#[holds gently] i love these dragons so goddamn much

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: L for Lactation

Summary: Pregnant with his child and in pain, Morpheus helps release some stress.

Notes: ~ 1.7k words, here it be upon ye thine unholy smut for thoust second week of thy Kinktober

Warnings/Tags: MDNI - 18+, heavily pregnant reader, nipple play, Morpheus drinks breast milk from the tits, fingering, orgasm denial, oral fem receiving, it's giving mommy issues

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

K for Kleptomaniac ⇆ M for Muzzle

“How are you today, beloved?” Morpheus breaks your silence in the spacious room. 

“Everything is horrible, Morpheus,” you whine, your body starfishing over the large and cooling bed. 

Your lover merely chuckles as he comes closer, the bed shifting under his weight as Morpheus sits by your side. His hand gently covers your round and growing stomach, a sight he will never tire of. Morpheus caresses the pregnant belly, even leaning his cheek to the skin to get as close as possible to the growing child. 

“You did this to me, you and your stupid dick,” you groan in annoyance, pushing him away with the back of your toe in defeat. 

You push yourself into a sitting position, your head hits the headboard with a soft thud, and your entire body pulses with subtle pain. You’re hot and cold at the same time, irritable to say the least, and craving dirt for some reason or another. 

“I want dirt,” you voice your thoughts aloud with another defeated sigh.

“To consume?” Morpheus asks as he watches you close your eyes with a frown digging into your forehead. 

“Get me dirt,” you demand, your hand shooing at the air.

“I am not allowing you to consume soil of all substances.”

“Then do something about this,” you growl out, your patience growing thin.

You gesture towards your general body, how the summer heat makes even the thin nightgown you wear sticks to your skin. The baby kicks you in your ribs and you groan out a whine, the little bastard is already as much of a pain in your ass as your husband. 

Well, that’s wrong to say. You love your husband, adore him, really. But why is his child so… fucking huge? You felt like a recently hatched baby dragon, stomping and huffing everywhere you went. Morpheus would say you were always hungry (for dirt is a new one, however) and that there were several times when he touched you and the Dream Lord swore you would start breathing fire down on him. 

“As you wish, dear wife,” Morpheus concedes, crawling slowly back over to you until he hovers just over you. “Hm, now this position is familiar.”

“It’s how this happened in the first place,” you say with a sharp breath out of your nose. Your swollen belly brushes against his navel even though he is holding himself up. 

Morpheus only smiles softly. Even when you’re at your worst, he can never find it in him to get angry at you. Not when you look so perfect like this, breast and belly swollen with what is his, your body taking his seed so beautifully as you grow his child. 

“Where does it hurt, love?” He asks instead when he pulls himself out of his thoughts. His hand caresses the side of your stomach and it seems like the baby could feel its father’s touch, relaxing inside your womb. 

“Everywhere,” you repeat, sighing and relaxing with the child. “My breasts are sore.”

“They are beautiful and swelling with milk,” Morpheus whispers reverently as he comes ever closer.

“I know why,” you groan out again, your annoyance spiking. “I just wish they weren’t.”

“Shall I relieve the pressure?” Morpheus chuckles, a deep rumbling sound in the back of his throat, like thunder along the horizon. “Shall I have you beg for it?” 

“Morpheus, I will kick you in the goddamn balls and you will never, never get—”

“Yes, yes, beloved,” Morpheus concedes, he knows you will do it, too. 

Morpheus doesn’t wait another moment, his hands pulling at the thin material that makes your nightgown. His fingers are cold against your heating skin, cooling the over sensitive swell of your breast. Your nipples perk against the cold feeling, a soft sigh leaving your lips at the touch. His larger hands cup your breast, his fingers moving to massage the tissue. The gasps you give him, the way you melt into his touch, it brings a smile onto his face. Morpheus would do anything to get you to make those sounds again. 

He works on the other breast, continuing his ministrations as his eyes never leave yours. Being mindful of your belly, he leans in, taking your lips in his in a soft but meaningful kiss. Morpheus can taste the indulgences you had last, some honey figs and jam, sweet and soft against his own tongue as he dives deeper. 

“Morpheus,” you murmur against his lips, licking his bottom one as you try to chase him. 

Your husband merely shushes you, pulling himself back down to your breasts. They no longer hurt, thankfully, the fluid movements of his hands working out just as he planned. Morpheus did not plan however, the way your milk started to leak out of your nipples, the whitish-yellow substance of colostrum dewing on your breast. 

Morpheus could smell it, the sweetness of your milk leaving you and his teeth ached with the undeniable want of something sweet on his tongue. You could feel his soft breath over the sensitive and perk nipple, your hand coming up to rake through his unruly hair. 

You’re about to ask him what he was thinking, why he is frozen, hovering a mere inch from your chest. Before you can, his lips latch around your nipple and your mouth drops open in a silent moan, your head tilting back to the headboard again. Morpheus groans, the vibration shooting through the sensitive bud as he drinks from you. 

His tongue laps at the nipple, sucking, licking, as he demanded your body to give him more. The sweet taste of your breast milk to coat his tongue. It is so warm, so sweet, so perfectly made by you and your body in response to the child that he gave you. 

Morpheus could feel himself harden at the mere prospect, but he needed more. “Sweetness,” he whispers as his lips cross over the valley of your breasts to take the other into his mouth. His fingers trail down the sides of your swollen stomach, taking a moment to swipe across the bottom of it, to feel his child kick against his palm, before continuing to the dripping cunt between your legs. 

“Give me more, beloved,” Morpheus demands gently, his fingers pushing aside the fabric of your underwear, bunching the fabric of your nightgown above your thighs. 

Morpheus didn’t want to push you too far, but he is indeed greedy for something more. His fingers probe at your entrance, until he sinks one inside. The gasps that he managed to elicit from your mouth is everything he needs. He pumps his finger softly, matching a rhythm to how he suckled on your breasts. 

“Just like that, Morpheus,” you whine into nothing, your fingers gripping at his hair, the other hand over his as he keeps himself from laying on your stomach. Gods, it felt so good. “More… I need more.”

Morpheus answers your pleas with another digit, pulling and pushing it back in a tantalizing slow pace. But it is perfect, so perfect against your over sensitive body. His thumb comes into play, circling tight circles around your engorged clit and your hips buck into his palm. His fingers press upwards, pushing into the sensitive spot that has you turning into putty in his expert, lithe, fingers. 

“Do you want to come for me?” Morpheus asks lowly, softly kissing his love across your large chest. 

“Yes, yes!” You chant with a whimper just as Morpheus presses the flat of his tongue over a nipple. 

“I wish to taste it,” he comments, and just as he knows you’re about to orgasm, just when you have reached the very edge of undeniable pleasure, he pulls his fingers away. 

“What is wrong with you,” you growl out, your breath panting and ragged as you watch him lick the glistening slickness that he had drawn from your body. 

“Patience,” Morpheus almost scolds you, but it held no real malice. “I will give you what you want, you must be patient.”

You watch Morpheus with lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean. He hums in thought, letting the taste of your arousal mix with the thickness of the milk that still lingered on his tongue. Morpheus never had to eat, he could never die from hunger or thirst, but now, after tasting this meal for the king of kings, he can’t deny himself any longer. 

Morpheus settles between your legs, wasting no time to press his tongue to your cunt, lapping at the arousal and leaving no drop behind. If your milk is sweet, then this is a tooth aching cavity with no cure. He could find himself stuck here, forever, suckling, licking, loving the taste of you on his tongue. 

“Morpheus…” you gasp out, your nails digging into the bedsheet beneath you. Your damn belly prevents you from reaching out to his hair. 

“Mhm…” he hums thickly, sticking his tongue into your weeping cunt. He loved the way you said his name, all needy and desperate—a mere mirror to how he felt now for you as well. 

Morpheus’ hands hold onto your thighs, steadying the way it trembles around his head. His tongue pursues, keeping a steady rhythm at your clit and before you could ask him, he inserts his fingers back in. 

“Oh, God,” you moan out, your eyes fluttering close. Your body starts to tense, the creeping feeling of your orgasm rising slowly like a simmer comes to a boil. Blink and you’ll miss it. 

“No, beloved,” Morpheus corrects you between your legs. 

“Right…” you breathe out in a chuckle, how could you forget? “Morpheus, Oneiros, Dream of the… Endless.”

“Much better,” he praises, his tongue still going for he knows your climax will come soon and he craves to taste it against his tongue. 

“Prince of Stories, Lord of the Dreaming,” you continue, his titles coming to your mind like a ramble. “Dearest husband.”

Morpheus hums in content, his fingers digging into your thighs as you softly scream out his name again, this time your orgasm crashing over your body. It coats his entire chin as he pulls you impossibly close, the sinful sound of him drinking from you is the only sound in the room besides your hazy panting. 

“Divine sweetness,” he groans against your thighs, wiping away the remnants against the soft skin. He leaves a few soft kisses against the skin, thanking you for his meal. 

Can't believe this fic happened because I learned that human breast milk is sweeter than cow's milk and now you know that.

♡ Yours, Layla

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

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K for Kleptomaniac ⇆ M for Muzzle

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Twenty-four is one year too young for a quarter-life crisis, but hey, Colin's always been an overachiever. He's got a degree in Sustainable Tourism, which his family says he's wasting as a barista, an annoying anxiety disorder, and no freaking idea what to do with his life.

The only thing going his way is the cute coffee shop regular, a homo draconis named Dav (who, in his humanshape, is a total hottie.) Still, it'd be easier if Dav didn't have a habit of accidentally setting things on fire when he's startled. Like the café kitchen.

When Dav breaks draconic taboo and volunteers as a replacement bean-roaster to apologize for the inferno meet-ugly, sparks really fly. Everything's finally happening for Colin, until he learns that hooking up with Dav means that under dragon law, Colin is absorbed into Dav's hoard.

Possession may be nine-tenths of the law, but becoming his boyfriend's property does not make this whole identity crisis thing easier. Especially now that Colin must navigate politics, paparazzi, and legal questions about his personhood. Colin's still angling for his Happily Ever After, but the growing scrutiny on his relationship with Dav threatens their budding romance.

And if he's not careful, Colin's fight for agency may just destroy symbiotic human/dragon relationships worldwide.

🐉☕❤️

A sassy, queer, alternate universe romance from Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2011 author J.M. Frey. Wrapped in discussions of autonomy and colonialism, Nine-Tenths meets in the middle between Red, White & Royal Blue and the Temeraire series.

🐉☕❤️

Part One

There's this thing in stories called the "inciting incident". 

And mine? It's a goddamn doozy.

It’s the part of the book, right at the start, where the lovers have their meet-cute, the farm boy leaves for the wider world, the Chosen One is attacked by her first evil monster, blah, blah, blah. You know what I mean. It's the place where everything opens up and you have no idea what you're in for—only that it'll be exciting.

I know all about Inciting Incidents because I was going to be a writer.

No, I thought I was going to be a writer. Historical romance, that’s my jam. Dukes, rakes, windblown-gowns, dropped handkerchiefs, cliffside confessions—I am a slut for that stuff. Forget real history (totally flunked ‘We’re-Feeding-You-Colonialist-Narratives-Disguised-As-Education’ 101). Give me made-up kingdoms and far-flung pirates. Give me the fantasy of a happily ever after that lasts beyond ‘the end’. Give coffee and stories, and I am a content boy.

But right before he got sick, in the summer between my first and second year of university, my Dad and I had a serious talk about writing. How much work it is. How long it takes to start paying off. Backup plans.

And then… after, I thought, well, he wasn’t wrong. If life was going to be pointlessly, stupidly, cruelly short, then I should spend my time trying to do something good, right? I switched majors. Science makes sense. Science is logical. Science creates vaccines and saves lives. Science can bring species back from the brink of extinction. Science doesn’t break your heart.

All of this is to say that I can—with complete and utter certainty—point to the exact moment when my life became a trash fire. It was my twenty-fourth birthday, and my big sister Gemma gave me the dumbest, but totally plot-inciting gift: a sunrise alarm clock.

The Incident starts like this, in Mum’s pokey poppies-and-roosters kitchen, with Gemma leaning on the back of my chair: 

"I have a perfectly good alarm clock." I hold up my phone, then let it slap back down onto the plastic tablecloth. "Goes ding when there's stuff."

My sister heaves the kind of sigh only eldest-born siblings make, indulgent and frustrated at the same time. I love making her make that noise. It's hilarious.

"It wakes you up gently," Gem says. "So you’re not cranky."

"I’m not cranky in the mornings."

Everyone laughs. I may have snapped at Stuart this morning when he shook my foot through my childhood bed sheets like an aggressive chihuahua. Okay. So I'm cranky in the mornings.

"I don't see how it's supposed to work." Stu grabs the clock. "How can you see the light if your eyes are closed?"

As the younger brother of twin siblings, I am used to having the toys I’m playing with pulled out of my hands. Instead of trying to snatch it back, I fiddle with the iridescent green bow that was on my present, then stick it to my ear. Mum smirks at my accessory, but otherwise her prim little 'all my babies are home to roost' face stays in place.

I'm the only one of us who went away to school, and stayed away. Gem came back to live with Mum straight after she finished her undergrad, so Mum wouldn't be alone in the house. Stuart never left the city, though he's got his own place now. But that's why I stayed away after I graduated last year. Mum and Gem don't need me, and if I came back, Stu would try to get me to join his crew.

I go weak in the knees for the kind of person jacked enough to pick me up and consensually throw me around. Standing on a roof next to a whole crew of pretty roughs trying to help them replace shingles? That's gonna lead to me swooning and dying of a broken neck. Stu doesn’t want that on his conscience.

Because she's a bossy know-it-all, Gem takes my present from Stu and opens it to show me how it works. She huffs. "You can see sunlight through your eyelids. It just works, okay?"

Stu helps himself to another piece of my birthday cake, licking the icing off his fingers and the serving knife. Mum slaps the hand holding the knife, and Stu flushes up and sets it down. He descends on his third piece like a wolf, but at least now he's watching his manners.

"There's an instruction manual," I point out as Gem tosses the booklet on the table.

"The day you read the instructions," Mum says, "is the day I'll know for sure the fairies really swapped you."

It's an old joke, being the Changeling child. I'm the only one of them with dark hair. The rest of my family are blond as heck.

Mum’s grinning into that little curl in the side of her mouth that holds secrets. Dad always called it Mum's 'Peter Pan Kiss’. He'd wrap his arms around her waist and kiss that corner, and Mum would swat at him for ruining her lipstick.

Thinking about Dad reminds me he's dead.

I hate the swoop-and-stab sensation in my chest that comes with remembering. Especially when there's a moment you want to share, and you turn your head to his chair and start composing the sentence in your head: "Hey, Mum's doing that—" and then you stop.

You stop composing. Stop turning. Stop thinking about sharing. Stop breathing.

Because that chair is empty.

Dad's dead.

And you'll never get the chance to point out the Peter Pan kiss again. Or watch Mum swat him. Or listen to him tease us for falling for Mum's Old World fairy stories. Or hear his stupid har-har-har donkey laugh, thick with his French accent.

It's my birthday. 

He's not here. 

I'll have another birthday, next year, and he won't be there for that one either.

I try to control my breathing, but Mum hears it hitching. I'm already staring at Dad's terrible empty chair, so it's not like I can hide what I'm thinking about. Mum curls her fingers over my knuckles.

"I wish he was here too, mo leanbh," she says softly. 

Stu and Gem go quiet.

"Sucks," I cough out, deciding to give no one the pleasure of watching me actually cry. I'll save it for later, when I'm back in my own apartment. Not because of any kind of 'real men don't' toxic masculinity bullshit, but because I hate the fuss. They take the shit my therapist tells them about being my support network too much to heart.

"More tea, Mummers?" I ask instead.

"Time for something stronger, don't you think?"

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Trailer Music: "A Thousand Years" by The Piano Guys Cover Art: @seancefemme

[teyvat-temptation]

⚙️ here yet again, with a marginally less horny ask

what are our beautiful genshin men's favourite (not immediately sexual - I don't want to make this too easy >:3) body parts of each other? (neuvillette/wriothesley, alhaitham/kaveh, zhongli/childe plus any other combination~)

Oh I love this so much. Mild NSFW but nothing super explicit.

Neuvillette Easy to see coming, it would have to be Wriothesley's hands. Large, calloused, battle warn, but oh so gentle and soft as they run along Neuvillette's body. He could spend hours gently tracing over the old scars, pressing kisses to his knuckles and simply holding the Duke's hands tightly in his own. Wriothesley It might sound a bit strange, but it would have to be Neuvillette's ears. Not because he finds them particularly sexy, but the way biting and sucking at them makes Neuvillette react- Really, it's impressive how nibbling at the old dragon's ears can reduce him to a mewling mess, but Wrio is here for it and will abuse this power fully. (I'm on team pointy-eared Neuvillette) Alhaitham Nothing is hotter to this man than Kaveh's back. The skin is so beautiful and smooth, almost as if he was made of porcelain. The slight glimpses he catches of Kaveh's lithe figure through that slit down the back of his shit always works the scribe up. Makes him want to drag Kaveh home and rack his nails along his back and mark him up for everyone to see- Kaveh It would have to be Alhaitham's arms. Sure, he might just be some "feeble scholar" but that doesn't mean he isn't in decently good shape from swinging that sword around all the time. Kaveh loves to spend after they have sex just tracing along the muscles in Alhaitham's arms, kissing over battle scars, and treasuring how safe and warm he feels wrapped up in them. Zhongli Legs. This man is all about legs. A good lean pair of legs with powerful calf muscles? Goddamn, this man will be on his knees. Childe is aware of this and loves to tease the Archon. Zhongli isn't the most openly expressive of men, but he will gladly get on his knees and worship his lover's long, powerful legs with a hunger in his eyes. Childe Gotta be Zhongli's voice. It's not a physical attribute, but nothing reduces Childe to a puddle faster than the Geo Archon mumbling sweet nothings into his ear. Call him a slut, call him an angel, tell him he's a whore, or praise the very ground he walks on, it matters not to him. As long as Zhongli is the one to say it, he will be putty in his hands. Cyno This one is a cop-out, but Tighnari's tail. It isn't that he finds the tail itself sexual or anything, but the way it alerts him to the forest watches moods. When Tighnari is getting worked up, all hot and bothered, his tail starts to sway quickly. When he's deep in the midst of passion, it slows to a gentle rocking motions. Cyno has learned what Tighnari likes and doesn't like based on his tail. Tighnari Cyno's neck. There's just something about that makes Tighnari's feral side act up. He wants to sink his teeth into the flesh so badly. Sometimes, he will wrap his hands around his neck, squeezing enough that he can feel the vibrations of Cyno's moans under his palms. Not to mention how hot it is to mark him up for everyone to see, and how proudly Cyno wears them.

[aura-bug]

favorite yo-kai from each tribe?

Brave: Either Asura or Hovernyan, I fucking love Asura's designs/origins (<- nerd) and I am just VERY attached to hovernyan bc ykw2 is my favorite game

Tough: Toadal Dude. no contest. "surfer dude war general who is also a frog" is the funniest possible combination of character traits you could come up with. AND his name is TOADAL DUDE? thats peak. amazing. wonderful. Robonyan is very close in 2nd though

Mysterious: oughhhhh mysterious is one of those tribes where it's hard to pick a favorite bc there's so many I like 😭 if you held me to gunpoint and forced to me choose just one, though, I'd probably say Tengu. Neat design, I'm a folklore nerd, and he's just one of the guys I got weirdly attached to for no reason. idk. I liked his anime episode with Tenguriginal a lot omg

Charming: ouGGGGGHHHHHH another hard tribe,,,,, probably either Whirlweasel or Princess Pearl. Whirlweasel's anime episode was so fucking cute ??? like??? it had no right to be that adorable. what. also their design is just very gender

Princess Pearl bc I'm a sucker for all of ykw3's added legendaries asdfgh,, I like her little fish guy and the story of Otohime/Urashima Taro is just very iconic

Heartful: Predictabull. I can't explain this one. I just think he's a silly little guy. his folkloric origins are also very cool I like the kudan/other prophetic yokai a lot

Shady: Either Hidabat or Wobblewok. Hidabat's entire existence is just so insanely funny to me. Imagine allowing some loser recluse to live in your closet bc they're scared of the outdoors, then you slowly start finding out they're actually some sort of multi-millionaire that can just casually call up limousines and buy out entire houses and get in touch with extremely famous people n shit. headcanon: hidabat mines bitcoin

also wobblewok is just one of my favorite yo-kai in GENERAL. friend form AND boss form. people have died trying to confine this thing to the depths of hell and it looks like a big chocolate pudding cup with a dopey face. and its named WOBBLEWOK. thats a name that people were so afraid of that they DARED not to speak it out loud. WOBBLEWOK. its so silly I cant

I love its name I love its design I loved its goofy anime episode I love the way it goes "hiiiiii :)" when you fight it in blasters. everything abt wobblewok is perfect to me

Eerie: Arachnia!! Arachnia!!!!!!! also sort of Arachnus but I love Arachnia so goddamn much. I've talked at her before so I'll spare all the details but I want to *holds gently in hands* her. if you add a tsuchigumo/jorogumo character to your franchise they're basically guaranteed to be my favorite

Also Arachnus bc the donut war plot line is so fucking goofy I love it. It's one of the reasons why I'm biased towards 2. I was a bony spirits kid 💔

Slippery: OURGHHHHHHHHGHGH,,,,,,, dude this is the hardest,,,,,, there's so many slippery tribe yokai that I love to deathhhh 😭

Noko is so cute... I'm biased towards Venoct bc dragons...... I'm biased towards Draggie/Dragon Lord/Azure Dragon bc dragons.......... I'm biased towards Draaagin bc dragons................... I'm biased towards Mython bC DRAGONS.............................. I'M BIASED TOWARDS WHYVERN KING BC DRAGONS...................................... ARE YOU SENSING A PATTERN HERE

oh also whisper ig

If I HADDDDDD to choose, I guess I'd go with Whyvern King. Out of all the other dragons he has my favorite origins, being based on Nanda Ryuo, the most powerful of the 8 great dragon kings from folklore. and I was WAITING for SOMEONE to make that "nanda = why" pun eventually

Wicked: Unfairy, my favorite little piece of shit rat. their medallium entry literally calls them a pain in the ass. they're so goofy. sorry to all the unkeen fans out there ily all but UNFAIRY should've been the face of the wicked yokai. UNFAIRY shouldve been the main poster child for psychic specters. unfairy shouldve come in plushie form and I shouldve been able to bulk buy hundreds of them. I think it'd be funnier to have this little shit's face plastered on everything like some sort of parasite that'd be soooo funny

Enma: Lucas. "But aura, he's-" I don't care. Lucas.

[lichdragon-fortissax]

I've been wondering, Lansseax atacks us on outskirts of Layendel. Obviously protecting the city, but do you think she knew Morgott? After all he is king so he atleast had to know of her being in the city. It's just, how much interaction did Morgott actualy have with his subjects and where would Lansseax even reside then and know to ambush us there. She's the only dragon that actualy atacks us first if I remember correctly.

Honestly I don't think it's Morgott that she knew about- I think she protects Leyndell because she is the sister of Fortissax, who was a very close friend to Godwyn the Golden, and we have some means to think that the dragons within Elden Ring have a form of family system due to Greyoll's link with flying dragon Greyll, hinting that they are one of her ancestors. So it's not too hard to imagine that she and Fortissax often frequented the capital together, as 'it is said that she took the form of a human to commune with the knights as a priestess of the ancient dragon cult', and Vyke the Dragonspear was 'the one she loved the most' (which now has me wondering about the nature of Godwyn and Fortissax's relationship...hmmm). That means that she's directly connected with the Roundtable Hold via the whole interacting with Tarnished business, and has a vested interest in who becomes the next Elden Lord. If not Vyke, who inherited the Flame of Frenzy, then it must be someone that she next deems worthy.

The main reason why I'm not sure if she and Morgott interacted is bc of the whole 'dragon cult' and 'tarnished association' btw- he seems relatively tolerant to the whole dragon thing going on with some of the tree sentinals, but he most certainly draws the line at the Tarnished, while she clearly doesn't mind mingling with them. And even if she somehow knew about him via Fortissax's link to Godwyn, it's likely that she might not have felt the urge to seek him out afterwards, either because she wasn't familiar with him, or because him being of Godwyn's blood meant that she considered him the rightful lord of Leyndell.

Also, for her attacking us- I think it's a test! One thing that's unanimous with Fromsoft dragons is that they are keenly intelligent, noble, and somewhat battle-driven individuals, so it wouldn't surprise me at all if that was the case. For example, in the Ringed City DLC for Dark Souls 3, Darkeater Midir follows you around watching you from afar + forcing you through difficult puzzles by assailing you above narrow spaces, which is implied to test your merit so that you can fight him and give him a noble death rather than wasting away under the Abyss's corruption. While that's from a different game, I'd argue that we have far more examples of draconic intelligence and society in Elden Ring, given the fact that their race hadn't been brutally slaughtered to near-extinction like in Dark Souls. And what we DO have points to them being cunning, intelligent, honourable creatures in their own way, with Adula swearing an oath to knighthood after Ranni bested her + Fortissax's and Lansseax's love for Godwyn and Vyke, so it's not too unreasonable to think that's a possibility.

So with that in mind, the way I interpreted Lansseax attacking us just before the capital was to test our mettle in a similar way to Midir, which is why she never bothers us again after we prove ourselves to her. Glintstone Dragon Adula is a similar scenario, with the exception being that we're capable of killing her before marrying Ranni because she's aware that her lady just preformed a major sin by killing her Fingers, so she'll fight to the death to keep that a secret on the off chance that you'll betray her (though that's just a guess, I didn't kill any dragons but Magma Wyrm Makar on my first playthrough bc I was doing a no optional dragon-killing run + didn't know about the Dectus Medallions).

[rosze-v]

a glimpse of us

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

synopsis: Your daughter resembles you so much

tw: angst, Bakugou has a daughter, flashbacks, cursing

w.c : 1.8k

a/n: Halu! I'm not exactly sure on how to feel about this piece but I was heavily inspired by Joji's new song. I deadass hold off listening to it the first day it comes out but I was like fuck it and I listened to it, cried and here we are. What do you think? Do you like it? Enjoy!

“Papa! Come quick!! You’ll miss the movie!.” Bakugou Katsuki smiles gently at how eager his daughter is to watch How to Train Your Dragon, a movie she found after rummaging through your belongings.

“Yes Princess, I’m coming soon. Papa needs to take out the popcorn first. Why don’t you lay out the blankie?”. A yes and a giggle could be heard from the living room as he took out the popcorn from the microwave and place it in a tray. He then took out a bottle of apple juice and some glasses which later was placed on the same tray. Bakugou then pick the tray up and place it on the table in front of the tv.

Bakugou then turn around to look at his daughter and stare at her face, cheeks full, hair in twin tails, feet dangling off the end of the couch. He then cuddle up next to his daughter who quickly wrap her arms around him, in attempt to hug him.

“Princess, papa have to turn on the Tv!”. He said as she pout at the rejection yet Bakugou chuckles and pick up his daughter and place him on lap as he fish for the remote on the table. He starts the movie and his wriggling daughter stop and stay silent throughout the movie. He look down at his small daughter on his lap as he remembers.

“Katsuki hurry!! What the hell are you doing in the kitchen?”. Your voice could be heard from the living room as Bakugou grumbles. “Can’t your ass be patient! I’m trying to take out the goddamn popcorn!”. Rolling your eyes you shouted a yes and waited for him to come back with a tray of popcorn and your favourite apple juice.

Once he settles down on the sofa, your arms snaked around him and peck his cheek, a little way to show your appreciation of him. Bakugou stared down at you, admiring your beautiful smile and the beautiful twinkling of your eyes and the beautiful chuckle of yours. His heart warms at your every being, he swears there’s nothing in this world more beautiful than you are.

Bakugou who was in a trance from remembering your antics, realise the soft breath of his daughter on his chest. He smiled slightly, his heart string tugged at how soft and fragile his daughter is. He then reach out for a wet wipe and wipes her hands, dirtied by the caramel of the popcorn. After that, he gently scoop his daughter in his arms and bring her to her room. Bakugou place her gently and covers her with blanket and giver her a kiss goodnight before leaving for the living room to clean up the leftovers.

Then he walk back to his room, slowly and with dread. He opens the door and nothingness greeted him. Grey sheets and grey walls, a huge bed and not a single sign of you. He sigh and went over to his bed and lay down, trying not to think too much. Yet the body knows better, as he face to the left, and pulling up the sheets as if you were there. Realising what he have done, his face scrunched in pain as he pull the blanket up to his face, covering the half of it. He close his eyes, trying to greet sleep as quick as possible.

You were laying beside him, your eyes shone and peeking through, the only thing he could see was the sea of love, all for him. You were stroking his cheek, shamelessly admiring what’s yours. Your fingers touches his lips, the lip you have always crave. You touch his nose, the nose that you believe perfectly compliments his whole face. Then you touch the side of his eye.

Oh his eyes, the most alluring part of him. You swear you could burn in his fire and feel nothing but love and warmth. You could see blush creeping up his cheeks at your actions as he ask.

“What are you looking at weirdo…”. You chuckle at his flustered look and kisses his forehead.

“I’m crazy in love with you Katsuki. I’m not sure how I’ll live without your love, your touch, everything. I’m so fucking lucky”. Katsuki could only nod at your confession, as he pull you closer to his chest.

Because he knew, he’s not sure either how to live without you.

Yet he live. Is he alive? He’s not exactly sure, if he’s alive or living. His eyes shot open, wet tears passing down his cheeks and neck as he slowly sit up, wiping off his face. He could hear the pattering of his daughter feet and suddenly she burst through the door with a bright smile on her face.

“Papa!! Good morning!! Today’s beach day right? Is Uncle Kiri coming? I miss him so much already!!”. She crawled up to his lap and look up at Bakugou with huge eyes.

“Yes baby, today’s beach day! And yes Uncle Kiri is coming to, along with Aunty Mina, Uncle Sero and Uncle Kaminari”. Excitement was evident on her face as she jump down the bed and races to go to her bedroom, but suddenly halted before she reaches the door.

“What about Uncle Deku? And Aunty Ochako?”. At the sound of Midoriya’s name, he scowled a bit, a matter of habit, yet he nodded. His daughter squeal in happiness as she run to her bedroom to shower and pack up for the beach day. Thankfully, now that he’s an adult and a father, he have grown to become friends with Midoriya, though that was mostly by your scolding.

“I swear Bakugou Katsuki if I hear another bully bullshit out of your mouth we’re fucking done! How dare you do that to Midoriya? What if one day you have a kid and someone bully your kid the same way you did to Midoriya! What the fuck you’re gonna do you asshole!”.

He knew ever since the both of you got together, he’s going to marry you and have kids with you. Yet your words were like a slap from reality itself because he just now realise the consequences of his action. His heart squeeze at the thought of another kid hurling words he have hurled at Midoriya. He looked up at you, who’s eyes filled with tears, anger and disappointment visible.

Ever since that day, he tried his best to make it up with Midoriya and thankfully Midoriya being the sweetheart he is, accepted his apology and change. Though Bakugou is still a mean piece of shit, he have tame down words that could hurt and actually think before he speaks.

And you love him even more, and he love you even more.

“Yo Baku bro!”. Kirishima shouts gaining Bakugou’s attention as he trudge along to the crowd of his friends. Kirishima bump shoulders with Bakugou before picking up Bakugou’s daughter.

“Heya Princess! Wanna play with uncle today?”. She nodded eagerly as Kirishima went off to the crowd to introduce your daughter to the others.

“Don’t let her go into the water alone Kirishima!”. Kirishima shouts an okay as Bakugou went on to greet the others.

“Hey Kacchan, thank you for inviting us!”. Midoriya says with a huge grin on his face as Bakugou smirks.

“You wanna race Deku?!”. Like little kids, they went on and have a race along with Todoroki, though not before a warning from Iida on how they should race without using their quirks. The race was a close call but the proud Bakugou won.

Bakugou then went over to his daughter and told her that they should eat now before doing any other activity. He then went over to Sato’s place who was barbequing some meat and sausages. Sato place some of the meat and sausages on his and his daughter’s plate as they eat together with the others.

Though Bakugou doesn’t talk much, he was glad that he decided to do this. It was actually fun, though he won’t admit it, it actually felt good to catch up with the others. He then watch Midoriya with Uraraka being affectionate with each other and he his heart tugged. He remembers how much you love the beach and how often the both of you have dates at the beach.

You splashes him with sea water, giggling at his shocked face, because how dare you.

“Oh now you’re getting it!!”. He splashes you much more and you run away from him in attempt to not get caught. Bakugou catch up to you in an instant as he picks you up and throws you into the water. You screamed in delight but thankfully your reflexes was quick as you pull him down with you.

Now the both of you are drenched and you could taste the salty water on your tongue yet the both of you were laughing out loud, and Bakugou realised, he’s complete and happy. He’s in love and he wants to be in this bubble of love with you forever.

Bakugou and the others were packing up a little bit since its going to be night soon, and everyone was tired yet delight could be seen on each other’s faces. Everyone was happy that they could catch up with each other and have fun just like they did when they were younger. Now everyone is on their own road, and everyone is living their own life, moments like this is hard to come by.

The sun was setting when Bakugou was searching around for her daughter, panic budding in his chest yet he saw his daughter at the skirts of the beach. Bakugou approach his daughter and he feel as if he’s done this before. The sky was painted orange and blue, tinges of pink and the sound of the sea was calming.

“Princess, we have to get ready to go home now”. Your daughter turn around and with a gentle smile and a pointed finger towards the setting sun she said.

“Pretty”. Bakugou stopped on his tracks and could only stare at his daughter. Memories flashes through his mind.

“Babe we have to go now”. Bakugou walked up to you as your turn around and pointed at the setting sun.

“Pretty”. You said. Bakugou stopped on his tracks, his heart beating faster, his breath knocked out his lungs. He knew and have always praises your beauty yet when the sun is halfway through, the rays of light behind your back and the soft glow of your face and the gentle smile on your beautiful face.

You become the most mesmerising being in the whole world. He wished he could stop the time, just to admire you a bit longer. He wished he’s a painter, just so he could paint the masterpiece of God that you are. He wished he was the sun itself, to be able to shine down upon you and grace you with beauty the same way as right now.

 Bakugou smiled down at his daughter as he kneels down and hug her tight. His eyes tearing up a bit at the memory he just remembered.

And he thought that its okay. Though you’re not here anymore to tell him how pretty the sun is or to peppers him with kisses, its okay. Bakugou whispered to the sea, knowing that you could hear him.

“Love, I could still see a glimpse of us in her eyes”.

[tennessoui]

The divorced fic was so cute i want to scream. Does Obi have any time to be sad or are Anakin and his little demons always there to distract him from his infinite sadness

so i know most everyone wants to know what anakin does about The Kiss but here's a bit of light hearted angst a year before that (because humanity is inherently whatever but i am inherently evil)

aka

the immediate aftermath of the Router Incident (1.4k)

The night of the day of what will come to be known as The Router Incident starts off with a bang.

Obi-Wan gets home a bit later than normal. Not because his work drags on longer than usual, but because he is, on the subject of all things even passably related to his personal life, a coward.

It’s been at least ten hours since he left the house with the goddamn wifi router tucked under his arm because Anakin had said something about finding a new place.

As if this isn’t the twenty-first century. As if Anakin doesn’t have a phone with unlimited data. As if Anakin isn’t the sort of person to walk five miles to the nearest coffeeshop with his kids in their stroller, just to use their wifi to email Obi-Wan a series of italicized question marks.

Obi-Wan’s been practicing his apology ever since he got that email. I’m really sorry, I promise I’m not a controlling megalomaniac. I just panicked because I’m not that good at letting go of things. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but apparently I only know how to dig my heels in whenever I think people are starting to pull away. Apologies again, life is not a game of tug-of-war, and I promise I do know that.

He practices his apology, of course, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also try to put it off until the last possible moment. When he leaves the building, his car is the only one still in the lot.

I’m really sorry. Here’s the router back. I support your decision. Your kids will be great. I know you probably won’t let them see me, because that’s a bit weird if we don’t all live together, and you also don’t use social media, which is great because I also don’t use social media, but I would have made a Facebook account just to keep up with your family. It’s meant more than I can say to have something to come home to this past year, and I understand that you can’t put your life on hold for a lonely old man like me, and I will endeavor from now on to not impede your search for a new place to live.

No, too needy, he thinks at a red light, dragging his hand over his beard in defeat. He won’t beg Anakin to stay.

He would very much like to beg Anakin to stay, but he hadn’t even begged Satine to stay, and he had been in love with her.

He just enjoys Anakin’s company. His presence. Unwinding next to Anakin after a difficult day teaching is one of the things he looks forward to the most.

And this past holiday season, they’d had a big dinner at his house, filled to the brim with Anakin’s friends and his friends and some people from the local grocery store they’d met when out shopping together, and it had been so loud and so amazing. Nothing had been left untouched, there had been food on the ceiling (Obi-Wan suspects Leia to this day, but Luke had confessed), there had been leftovers for days.

You can’t just give me holidays like that and then take them away, Obi-Wan thinks angrily as he turns into his neighborhood. What will I do next winter, then?

He has to sit in his car for a second after parking, just to calm down. He’s the one in the wrong, he reminds himself. Anakin has all the right in the world to want to leave. It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

When he opens the door, he’s met with the sound of children screaming and crying.

Luke rushes at him and jumps on him with enough force that he reels backwards, almost out of the house. He drops his bag on the floor in order to steady the child.

Luke is bawling his head off right next to Obi-Wan’s ear so it’s very, very difficult to hear what a red-faced Anakin is trying to say.

And then Leia runs up to him, tugs at his free hand until he looks down at her, and then stomps her little foot with a scowl. “I hate you!” she declares just as loudly as Luke is crying, before her tiny face breaks into tears and she runs off.

“Oh, for the love of--” Anakin shouts, throwing his hands up in the air and chasing after his daughter.

Obi-Wan, ridiculously hurt beyond measure and without a clue about what’s happening, goes to sit down on the couch, still gently cradling Luke’s body to his as the boy continues to weep.

“Hush,” he says soothingly. “And, ah. Please tell me what’s gotten into the Skywalkers now.”

Luke only sniffles and rubs his snotty nose all over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Well. It’s laundry day tomorrow anyway.

“Daddy says you hate us,” Luke mumbles, just as Anakin comes back into the living room, notably sans Leia.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open in shock. “Daddy says what?” he asks, very slowly, making dangerous eye contact with Anakin over the top of Luke’s blond head.

Anakin flushes an even darker shade of red and looks around the room, as if that’ll save him.

“Daddy says we gotta go because this is your house and we don’t wanna stay over our, um. Welcome. We can’t reproach on your space, which means you hate us.”

“Encroach,” Anakin corrects, which Obi-Wan does not think is the thing that really needs to be corrected. When he tries to communicate this with his eyes, Anakin gulps and says quite quickly, “I’m gonna go check on Leia actually.”

Coward.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Your daddy is just being very, very dumb, a trait I pray with all my heart skips a generation.”

Luke blinks at him, his little eyebrows furrowed and his button nose bright red from all of his crying.

“I don’t hate you at all,” Obi-Wan says. “I love both you and your sister very much.”

“Then why do we gotta leave?” Luke complains. “I don’t want to go, we could never play Space Pirates and Lava Dragons at the old place, it was way too small.”

Obi-Wan thinks privately that his house, while certainly big enough, is by no means the proper size for how rambunctious the twins get when they’re playing Space Pirates and Lava Dragons.

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums consideringly. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?” Luke asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I really don’t. But it’s not my decision to make, Luke.”

“It’s Daddy’s,” Luke concludes, head hanging low. “And Daddy wants to go.”

Obi-Wan ignores the way that sentence drives what feels like a knife straight through his heart. “Yes, well,” he coughs. “Your daddy won’t do anything he knows you and your sister really don’t want.”

Luke looks contemplative. Obi-Wan wonders if he should feel really bad or downright awful for manipulating a child in this way. But needs must.

“And he won’t listen to me,” he continues gently, smoothing down the front ends of the boy’s soft hair. “Because your daddy can be very stubborn when he thinks he’s doing something right.”

“He’ll listen to me and Leia though?” Luke asks, head cocked and eyes bright.

Obi-Wan nods very seriously. “I think he would if you both asked very nicely and thought about a lot of good reasons why you should stay here.”

“I can think of loads! And Leia can think of a ton more probably!” Luke exclaims with renewed energy, launching himself off of Obi-Wan’s lap and up the stairs, ostensibly to their shared bedroom.

Obi-Wan leans back against the couch, equal parts amused, exhausted, and hurt. He’ll need to have a serious talk with Anakin soon. He’d thought the man knew that his home was his as well. Yes, Anakin still paid rent, an unfortunate but necessary sort of system, but they’ve never been normal roommates. And Anakin isn’t a guest who could overstay his welcome.

He’s. Well.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know exactly what Anakin is to him, but he had hoped it was obvious to Anakin at least that Obi-Wan would not ever grow tired of his presence in his life.

So they do have some things to talk about.

But hopefully this means that Obi-Wan won’t actually have to apologize for the router incident, seeing as Anakin’s fuck-up caused much larger waves.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 5- Be Wary Of Old Friends

Summary: Your boys may annoy you at times but you’ll protect them with your life, especially when an unexpected acquaintance makes themselves know.

Warning: monster hunting ensues, reader goes a little feral, a bard in danger

Masterlist

"Hey songbird!" You shout from across the small campsite to where Jaskier is, "You helping pack or are you going to finger that lute all day?" You add with an amused laugh as he throws you a half-hearted glare while you start to snicker at his almost grossed out face.

"Y/N, you are hilarious." Mutters the bard unenthusiastically as he places his prized lute in her travel case, suddenly you hear a stick snap to your left near the woods. Raising to your feet at the sudden noise, you sigh in relief once Geralt emerges from the forest.

"Ah, yes, there you are." Announces Jaskier as he gains Geralt's attention, "Your lady here has been harassing me for the past ten minutes that you've been out and about." He complains, Geralt turns to you with a raised eyebrow.

Scoffing you roll your eyes, "Oh please, I've been the only one doing anything helpful since you've miraculously disappeared, and Jask can't stop from fondling his lute in the meantime." Geralt's lips pull at the corners of his mouth as Jaskier lets out a gasp at your nonchalant explanation.

"I was not fondling anything Y/N! Maybe if I shoved a wooden stake through your chest you'd stop...uh, you'd stop....being mean to me...yeah." Exclaims Jaskier with a hand on his hip, lute strapped to his shoulder as Geralt looks from you to the bard. Oh, you are seriously enjoying this.

A smirk makes its way onto your face at his words, "I'd like to see you try, you pampered little princess." You sass with a raise of your eyebrow as he purses his lips together at your admittedly bland insult, you're just trying to rile him up for the fun of it.

"Maybe I can....be violent, you have yet to see what I can do with these hands." He boasts while Geralt packs a last bag onto Roach's back, doing his best to ignore yourself and Jaskier's back and forth comments.

"Oh right, besides gettin' it on with the ladies of the high court with those sneaky paws of yours...so we have to save your stupid ass when things go south." You chuckle while pulling on your cloak, Jaskier simply shakes his head at you as Geralt leads Roach over to where you're standing.

He gently nudges your arm affectionately, "Come on you two, time to go elsewhere before the sun goes down." Implores Geralt as he looks at your amused face, Roach letting out a snort of agreement.

Jaskier turns his head up towards the cloudy sky, "But it's not even seven in the morning yet." Protests the bard as you walk past him with a mischievous wink.

"You wanted to come remember. Get inspiration for your ballots and all the good shit." He shakes his head as a humored grin comes to his face, you got him there.

"Right. Right. You enjoy my company I know it." Calls after the bard while you continue up the woodland trail, trees and bushes to either side while he turns his attention back to Geralt, "I know it, she's fond of me I can just tell. Underneath all that mystery, satirical annoyance, unprecedented violent tendencies and whatnot. She thinks I'm interesting. Right?" Wonders Jaskier as Geralt leads Roach around him.

He glances at Jaskier for a moment to answer with a bit of wisdom, "Give it some time bard." He mutters, Jaskier jogs over to his side with a puzzled look upon his face implying that Geralt should continue, "It took me a while to gain her full trust and respect, she's just testing you Jask...it's in her nature or something of the like. It's how she shows her love, in her own way." The bard gives a thoughtful nod as he watches you walk down the trail.

"What do I have to do?" Wonders Jaskier with a shrug, "Kill a man with my bare hands...or..or perhaps I must tame a bear to juggle wild rabbit heads?" Inquirers Jaskier as he turns to look at you once again, his eyes going wide as he suddenly realizes you're nowhere to be found.

Jaskier nudges your Witcher who looks at him rather bored like, "Uh, Geralt...uh..wh-where has she gone. I don't happen to see Y/N anymore, I mean we haven't been walking that slow now have we?" He rambles nervously as his head turns from right to left and back down the trail again, "Geralt seriously, where the fuck did Y/N go....I'd really rather not have her scare me, again."

"Now watching you tame a bear..." Jaskier jumps while letting out a small yelp in surprise at the unexpected sound of your sly voice from behind him, "That would be interesting and very entertaining...but no, I just enjoy pushing your buttons cause let me be honest here, its too goddamn easy." Jaskier sends you a glare as you walk to his side while he tries to keep pace with you and Geralt.

"My gods Y/N you're such a...uh well...never mind it, I'm going to have to remind myself that you can hear incredibly well...and do," He points his fingers to your humored form, "That. Even traveling with you two for a whole year and all."

You slowly nod, a thoughtful expression on your face, "If I showed you what else I'm capable of, you'd probably shit yourself so don't fret, I'll save your eyes the horror." Jaskier glances at you with a wary doubtful look in his eyes as he hugs his lute closer in the cool morning breeze. Feeling his suspicious gaze upon you, a low chuckle escapes from your lips that sends mist into the crisp air like a dragon about to spit fire.

"Oh thanks I feel so much better now." Replies Jaskier, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

——

After a solid week of traveling through woodland trails, over bridges, and past rows of plowed fields. Your band of merry adventurers has made it to a small lakeside village overlooking magnificent mountains that tower high into the sky, ones that reflect beautifully off of the shimmering crystal blue lake below.

When you make it to the stables, the sky has turned into an exquisite mix of fiery oranges, reds, and purples that paint the sky and some of her wispy clouds overhead. A cool but refreshing breeze blows in your faces as it makes your cloaks flap in the wind with every new gust.

Once Roach has been fed and watered in her comfortable new temporary stall for the night, you and Geralt make your way to the only tavern in the village where Jaskier can be heard singing loudly his newest ballot. Something about how you and Geralt fought bravely back a pack of fierce shapeshifters on one hunt. The songs almost truthful, the exception being that the shapeshifters were actually old friends of Jaskier's who were pissed off cause he owed them money. In the end, they didn't get any money, mostly because they're not currently alive anymore to need it.

"I was hoping for a quiet evening, we could just drink our fill and then sleep in an actual bed for once....no one to bother us." Admits Geralt as he opens up the wooden door for you to walk inside the warm welcoming tavern.

Turning your face to look up at him you let out a yawn hidden behind your arm, "No one to bother us sounds very enticing." You muse while turning your attention back to the bustling tavern life.

The place is lit up with candles positioned at each table, a roaring fire casts shadows over the room from its prison in the hearth as you find an empty corner just perfect for yourself and Geralt. Taking the lead you walk past a couple drunken tavern goers on your way to the quiet corner of the place. Almost hidden from Jaskier's very loud singing that's taking place by the fire where a significant amount of women are sat, listening intently as they practically undress him with their eyes.

Sliding into the corner first, you lean yourself against the wall as Geralt sits down next to you, your legs touching even though there's enough room that you wouldn't have to be so close. You can tell how much he's been holding back since Jaskier has been around to ruin most of the fun.

Letting out a satisfied sigh as you close your eyes, your ears listen to the sounds of a woman's footsteps approaching your table, "Welcome travelers I'm Misha, what'll it be this even'n?" Announces a peppy teenager through a peculiar accent as she looks between the two of you with big curious brown eyes.

"Two ale's and whatever's on the menu for tonight." Mutters Geralt as you open your scarlet irises while holding your tired head up with the palm of your hand, a lazy smile painted onto your face. Her own eyes widen for a brief moment before she regains her bearings once again, flashing a nervous smile a she abruptly turns on her heel for the kitchens.

Looking over to the lively sight of the singing bard you smile, "Wonder who's going to keep Jask warm tonight, huh?" You chuckle as Geralt turns an amused smirk towards you while you shift your eyes back to the singing bard.

Geralt nudges his shoulder against yours, "Could be that blonde one in green or maybe the redhead to his left?" You find the ladies that he's referring to and watch as Jaskier gives the she-fox a charming wink.

Turning your attention back to Geralt, he looks down at you with a raise of his brow, "Oh it's definitely the redhead, she's already caught his eye so we needn't concern ourselves with him till morning, if all goes well for him that is." You muse as the tavern maid sets two ale's in front of you, a shy smile gracing her young face as she leaves.

Grasping your mug you take a hearty much needed chug before slamming it onto the table and wiping off your mouth, "Oh fuck yeah I've missed what real ale tastes like." You breath out happily as Geralt lightly sets his half empty mug onto the wooden table while you take another sip.

"It's not half bad." He admits with a shrug as you lean into his side.

You're about to comment on how lackluster his review was when your crimson eyes light up at the large single plate of trout and various steaming greens coming your way, "Ah yes our foods here."

After eating your meal and finishing off your glasses while forcing yourselves to listen to Jaskier's ballots that you've heard over a hundred times. You and Geralt get up and head to the bar for a key to a room upstairs. You watch as Jaskier disappears into a room with the redhead from earlier as you turn to face the young woman at the bar.

"Room for two....please." She gives you a quick nod before searching a drawer for the key to a room. Once she finds them you're able to take the rusted old key and walk over to the stairway as Geralt silently follows. The climb up is a short one, your quest taking you both to the end of the dimly lit hallway until you finally reach your room.

Stepping inside you look around the place and notice a small window, a decently large bed, and a fireplace next to it. The room isn't terrible if you're being honest and the bed looks incredibly inviting after sleeping on the ground for almost a month. Your face shifting into a pleasant grin as you drop your belongings and weapon onto the ground.

"Nice place." You add while turning around to give Geralt a knowing smirk, his face breaking out into a grin at your silent implications, "Guess we better test out the bed.." His golden eyes trail up your body as you continue, "make sure it's soft enough and..." You don't have time to finish as Geralt's soft lips have entrapped you into a heated embrace, his calloused hands snaking around you as yours does the same.

He gently leads you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed, your lips still locked with one another the whole time, even while he tenderly lays you onto your back. The mattress is soft and inviting as Geralt climbs over you, never once breaking the kiss to your great satisfaction.

——

Walking over to a table, three drinks in one hand and a plate of fresh bread and butter in the other. You watch in amusement at the morning faces of your Witcher and bard who look like they desperately need something to wake them up with.

"So Jask how was the redhead last night, was she all you'd dreamed of...did she fulfill every last perverted wish of yours?" You jest with a smirk as you set the drinks and plate of food onto the table, setting yourself down next to Geralt.

Jaskier shakes his head as a bashful smile appears onto his lips, "It was...very pleasant and uh...that's all the information I'll let you have." He retorts while taking a sip from one of the provided cups in an attempt at hiding behind the glass. Honestly you're kinda glad he has decided against spilling any private details, something he usually does much to yours and Geralt's disgust.

Geralt hums before adding in his two cents, "No one can quite resist your charms no matter where we seem to go." He deadpans while breaking off a warm piece of bread that he kindly hands to you before reaching over to break off a new chunk for himself.

Jaskier looks down with an almost shy smile before taking another sip, "Well, I try not to pride myself or anything, it's just a talent you see...which of course my voice and handiwork with my lute helps, also having you two as friends seems to peak some interest in the ladies now since I think of it." He replies as he stuffs a fluffy piece of bread into his mouth.

"Glad we could help then." You add with a cheerful raise of your mug before downing the rest of the liquid. The three of you taking a couple blissful minutes of peace to eat and wake up.

Glancing around the room you watch for any new tavern goers who may spark your interest as you suddenly decide to get on with your morning, "I'm going to pay, you two want anything while I'm up?"

"Um yeah, Valdo Marx's head on a shiny platter...that's all." Quips Jaskier with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"I'll see what I can do." You reply before turning around and walking over to the bar where the young brown eyed woman is tending to a customer.

Leaning your arms against the shiny wood of the counter you nod to the old man next to you who gives a cautious glare as you turn your head to the bartender, "Misha, right? Here's the coin for the room and the food. We'll be off soon enough."

She turns to you with a frown, "Just one night? That's too bad, we've actually been havin' some troubles 'round here recently and it would be wonderful if you and that Witcher could possibly help..."

"Will you shut it girl, we don't need no outsiders knowing of our business," Snaps the man from earlier as he sneers at her, "We got men handling it just fine." He adds with a gruff nod, his cold steely eyes intimidating to the innocent tavern maid.

Her once happy face goes sad as unshed tears form in her shimmering doe eyes while she ignores the grump, "Twenty are already dead miss, my poor brother included..."

"Shut your fucking mou.."

"If you interrupt her again I'll cut off your tongue and shove it up your ass." You threaten as your eyes glow bright red, the old greying man abruptly goes silent at your heated warning as you turn your cooler demeanor back to the young girl, "Tell me more about this...whatever the fuck that's slaughtering your village's men."

Her brows furrow in troubled thought as she looks back up to you, "Uh, they come back looking, well...mutilated, their throats practically torn out, their chests ripped open and their eyes gone, bodies pale as ghosts." A frightful expression flashes across her terrified face, "But it's not just the men.." She whispers while leaning her head in closer to yours, "The village women have gone missing, snatched from their beds in the middle of the night...never seen from again...no one knows who takes them but..."

"How long has this been going on for?" You quickly interrupt, wanting to find out if your growing suspicions are possibly correct.

"About five months now, it happens around the same time every month in fact, oh god...this night is when the beast usually strikes...", A single tear runs down the side of her face as she tries to control her trembling, "I don't want to be taken miss, but I must tell you....some have said that the creature walks like a man, is too swift to be truly seen, and can magically get into your house...no matter if its locked or not." Your eyebrows furrow in concern for the girl and this alarming news that's slowly starting to fit into place.

"You said tonight yes...hm alright, where have these bodies been found, I mean isn't there any tracks in the mud or sand, on trails?" Misha quickly shakes her head as the old man listens intently, thankfully minding his own.

Smirking at a new and appealing thought you find her wary eyes once again, "I've gotten an idea, would your village happen to have a carriage for long traveling, I think we may be able to lure the beast away from the village with the thing during the time that you claim it comes into town." She gives a hopeful smile as you return one just the same.

"Miss I can get that arranged for you in no time. Meet me by the stables, an hour before sunset and my father will have the carriage waiting....oh bless you, he'll be ever so grateful." She affirms happily with a beaming smile, though behind it all you can tell how truly terrified she really is. She hopes whatever plan you have works, you're hoping it will too.

Setting down your coin, she quickly takes it before tending to another tavern goer, but as you turn to leave the old man grasps your arm, "Do you really think its possible, that the man-beast can be killed?" He wonders in a hushed tone as he looks up with pleading eyes, they soon turn skeptical once again, "I don't believe a word anyone says until I see it with me own two eyes."

Removing his arm from your own you nod to him, "I'll gut the fucker and put its head on a spike, then you'll know for yourself." His face morphs into a troubled expression as you leave him doubting by the bar, your mind now set on how to handle the new problem hiding like a coward in the woods.

—-

Walking to the stables with Geralt by your side and Jaskier on your tail, you casually touch the side of your hip, making certain that your silver dagger is still in its place.

"So what...or I guess whom do you presume this monster is again Y/N?" Questions the bard as he falls in step with you.

"I'll be one hundred percent certain once I actually see it, Jask. So until then, no more questions or I'll shove that pretty jacket of yours down your throat." You muse as he gives a curt nod.

"Yes alright, noted Y/N. Noted." Mutters Jaskier as Geralt holds back a laugh.

Once the three of you make it to the stables, you're pleasantly surprised to find a black two horsed carriage awaiting you along with Misha and her father who appears to be rather glad that someone is finally here to put an end to the deaths and mystery. She instructs you three to trek on the northern trail, where the pine forest is located, same area that the man-beast has made its hunting grounds, or so its claimed.

With that in mind you direct Geralt to take the reigns and for Jaskier to hold a silver sword as he keeps himself in the actual carriage, while you keep close by in the woods for a better view of the beast and where it may be coming from. Then just like that you're off and into the crisp night air as a full moon graces you all with its brightness upon the land, you fly through the great pine trees as you follow Geralt who's leading the horses down the wide woodland trail. Luckily the woods seem mostly vacant of bushes and greenery of the like, only tall bristly pines tower over the ground as they leave the woods shadowed from the rising moon.

"Geralt. Heyyyyyy Geeeeraltttt." Whines Jaskier from within the small carriage as Geralt holds tightly onto the leather reigns, a soft cool breeze blowing his silver hair back.

"What?" Grumbles the Witcher with a sigh, eyes set to the path ahead.

Jaskier leans back into the velvety cushions as he crosses his arms over his chest, "You think I could have a peek, you know...sit up there with you? I mean come on, I'm not seeing shit back here and I think.."

"No."

Letting out a huff in annoyance, the bard knocks onto the back of the wall where Geralt is leaned against on the other side, "Y/N doesn't have to know. I'll be as still as a statue and quieter then a dormouse...she'll never even know." Exclaims Jaskier has he pauses for a second to see if Geralt gives a shit, not getting anything he continues, "Come on, this man-beast or whoever the fuck can't be that horrendous now can it right? Those villagers could have been pulling her leg for all we know, what if its just a werewolf, I mean seriously it is a full moon after all. Perfect scenario, the stars are quit literally aligning....hellooooo its gotta be a werewolf."

"It left bodies and has taken multiple women, this is something else. So I advise you to shut the fuck up." Growls Geralt over the clip clopping of the horses hooves against the hardened ground. Jaskier wisely decides to keep silent and instead look out the tiny window as a way to distract himself. He watches as a sea of trees pass by, the occasional fern cluster rising from the roots, and a reddish brown blur that goes from tree to tree.

Squinting he realizes that this mystery blur is most definitely not just a figment of his imagination and quit possibly hunting them from the tree tops. He stares on in confused bewilderment as the man like thing jumps from one branch to the next in rapid succession, although he's only able to catch a prominent glimpse of it as the moonlight catches it when it jumps. The creature looks black in the white light of the full moon, a large healthy mane of reddish brown hair flying as it lunges from tree to tree. Still too fast to fully make out.

He blinks and a second later the creature is gone, Jaskier lets out a whispered "oh shit" as he shuts the tiny window and grasps the hilt of his silver sword while hastily knocking on the carriage wall, "Geralt I saw it, I fucking saw it...Y/N wasn't lying this thing is most definitely not a werewolf."

Geralt's brows furrow in confusion as he listens to what Jaskier is rambling on about, "What did it look like?"

"Like a fucking pale monkey man wearing black with red hair or something. I don't know it happened so fast...sorry I was too busy getting my prized jewels fondled by the lovely elven lady in this carriage to notice anything else." He sasses from the back as Geralt rolls his eyes, suddenly the carriage jostles from the rear like something has angrily rammed into it.

"That wasn't me." Squeaks out Jaskier with wide eyes as he firmly clutches his sword with both hands. A moment later something fast with sharp talons whips past Geralt's head from the right as it leaves a clean slice on his cheek, and then its gone again like it never even happened. He snaps his head in the direction of the creature, too late to catch a glimpse.

Eyeing up the area around him, he braces for another unexpected assault, "Where are you?" Whispers Geralt to no one in particular as he holds onto the reigns with one hand and a sword in his other as he waits for the beast to make itself known. He can sense the nervousness radiating off of the galloping horses as he watches ahead of him, the pine trees swaying in the wind, making it increasingly more difficult to tell where the beast is coming from. On the inside of the carriage Jaskier braces for more trouble as a moment later, without warning the carriage lifts off of the ground before slamming into the dirt trail with a loud crack. The back wheels snapping off with the abrupt impact, he falls forward into the nearby cushions as the carriage skids in the dirt.

"Fuck." Mutters Geralt through clenched teeth as the horses race onward, then to his great astonishment, one of them lets out a horrific scream as a river of blood pours forth from its muscular neck by an unseen force that he must have missed when he was trying to regain his bearings after the back wheels collapsed.

He watches in confusion and slight fear as the bleeding horse clashes into the other, the both of them abruptly tripping over themselves in a screeching heap as they fall to the earth. Bringing the carriage down with them, the Witcher jumps for the safety of the ground as the vessel tips onto its side, the only live horse whining in pain as one of the broken wooden pieces lodges itself into the poor animals stomach.

Jumping to his feet, Geralt races over to the bent in door where he quickly pulls it open to reveal a bruised bard, Jaskier's sword stuck into the back wall. He smiles up to Geralt as a trail of blood seeps out of his nose, "I'm gonna be honest here, but that was not something I'd rather ever do again." He confesses as the Witcher pulls him out and onto his feet as they stand back and assess their woodland surroundings.

Suddenly they hear a branch snap from up above near the tree line where the edge of the trail begins, before a dreamy chuckle snaps their attention over to a stunning pale faced man approaching them from out of the woods. He looks at them curiously through fiery ember eyes, his long tousled reddish-brown hair hanging all about as it cascades down his muscular shoulders all the way to his lower back. On his lean slender body does he adorn himself with black attire under an equally as dark long-coat that just barely touches the frosting ground below. He's rather quite attractive all things considered, as he swaggers through the moonlight with not a weapon in sight, or anything for that matter in his gloveless hands, only but a few golden rings clinging to their master that shine in the moonlight.

He hands Geralt and Jaskier a sly grin, revealing sharp pearly white fangs as he stops a good couple yards away from them, "So you're the infamous White Wolf...and of course...his loyal bard." Inquires the mysterious vampire as he speaks in an entrancing velvety voice, his glowing irises watching their every move as he tilts his head to the side, "But alas, you lack one which I would love to grace my aged eyes upon once again." Reveals the enticing man as he looks dismally to the ground before he raises his head to smile again, his beautiful reddish hair parting perfectly onto either side of his sculpted marble face.

"Are you the one who's been killing men and taking the women?" Snaps Geralt as he points an accusing sword towards the smirking vampire.

The man merely shrugs, a single hair falling seductively over his eye as he peers through it at your Witcher, "The men are simply human cattle, barely worth the air they breath. The women on the other hand, came willingly into my open arms from their beds and rather dreary mundane lives. My compliant acquisitive lovers if you will." Assures the ember eyed vampire as he takes a step closer, Jaskier taking one back as he stands behind Geralt, the vampire smirking at him as Jaskier tries to hide.

"Don't touch the bard." Growls Geralt while holding up his silver sword defensively, "He's not worth your energy."

The vampires face changes to that of a fake pout, "Oh my dear Witcher, I admire your bravery and valor...but I'm hungry and I will get what I desire one way or another." The vampires fiery eyes darken as he races towards the two of them in a black and orange blur, Geralt and Jaskier falling helplessly onto the crunchy leaves just mere feet from one another as the vampire paces in front of them like a lion in a cage. The bloodsucker suddenly stops and watches in amusement as the two groan in pain while trying to sit up again. He tilts his head to the side like a curious wolf observing their prey, before deciding to take another step.

"Velkyn."

He halts all movement as his body goes tense for a split second before his otherworldly charming aurora surrounds him once more, with a fangy smile upon his dashing features he turns around to the low growl emitting from deep in your throat.

His orbs of hellfire trail you up and down as you glare at him, "Why don't you look stunning, my dear Y/N. How longs it been...ninety, one-hundred, two-hundred years my love?"

Your face turns into a pissed off scowl at his words, "You. Don't get to call me that, you fucking cocksucker." He unpretentiously lets out a mock gasp at your bold sharpness, amused that you're still as out-spoken and feisty as ever.

Setting a hand on his slender hip, Velkyn smiles an incredibly punchable grin, "Ouch. You haven't seen me in almost two-hundred years and the second those beautiful scarlet eyes of yours grace my body..."

"What are you doing away from Alkatraz?" You interrupt as your fists clench in agitation, "What, did they finally see how much of a piece of shit you actually are?" You snap as he sends you a nasty glare, the side of his nose scrunching up in displeasure.

"I chose to leave the coven, the Queen gave her blessing an..."

"Right. You mean she threatened you, giving yourself one chance to flee before her death-hounds tore you to shreds. Sounds more plausible." You impede as he squints at you menacingly.

Jutting out a hip, he eyes you up once again, "Very clever, princess. No matter....you will leave me alone and I will continue on my marry way as things have gone on, before you decided to ruin everything."

Letting out an amused chuckle, you slowly unsheathe your silver dagger, "You're nothing but a cantankerous infant, murdering innocents....seducing the women while having your fun and sucking them of their life force." He tilts his head up as his flaming irises never once leave your face, "I know they didn't go willingly you fucking diseased little cunt....I'm rather going to enjoy as I watch the lights go out, leaving you as nothing more then food for maggots." Velkyn hums in irritation before swiftly turning around and bolting for Geralt and Jaskier.

But before he's able to reach them you're at his side, throwing him into a tree as he smacks into the tough wood with a clash of bark and limbs. Once he's onto his two feet again, he looks up just as you violently grab his shoulders and in one fluid motion, throw him across the forest floor. Geralt and Jaskier watching on with wide eyes the whole time.

"Fuck me, you still have it." Sputters Velkyn as a single red streak of blood trails down the side of his mouth. You smirk at this pathetic excuse of a vampire as you race towards him in a blur, he tries to retreat but before he can even get up off of the ground you've already cracked your boot against his skull. He tumbles in the dirt with a pained grunt, suddenly flying up to his feet in an instant as he growls at you. Within seconds he's thrust you into the trunk of a tree as your dagger falls from your hand at the sudden impact, he tightly grasps onto your arms as he throws you harshly upon the trail, leaving you dazed and more furious then ever.

"Not as clever as you'd like to think you are Y/N, I drink human blood. You don't." He brashly affirms as he watches you pick yourself up from the ground, dirt and blood smeared against your face. Licking the bloody cut now adorning your bottom lip, you mockingly chuckle at him, earning a puzzled expression across his pale features while the slice in your skin heals.

"You can't kill me." The whites of your eyes begin shifting to an obsidian black as your skin turns a greyish blue color, "I am Y/N of Alkatraz, the Vampire Queens only daughter....do that again and I'll rip out your entrails while you scream for death."

Velkyn hisses before turning himself into a half man half bat-like creature, face a contortion of bat and human man, his skin a milky pale as a large pair of webbed wings emit from his back. He suddenly screeches at you before spreading out his wings, readying himself to take flight. Doing what you know must be done to prevent his escape you shift yourself into a similar form, a pair of greyish blue wings stretching out from your back muscles as you thrust yourself into the air, just as Velkyn reaches the tops of the tree branches.

Gaining on him in no time, you grasp his pale human sized bat leg, he snaps his grotesque bat-like face down to you while you growl at him from below, "Fuck do you think you're going?" You snap before pulling him down to the harsh forest floor, he lands roughly onto his back as your legs fall to either side of him.

Growling in fury he quickly shoots up his talons in an attempt at clawing at your chest and face, but before he's able to commit anymore damage. You've ripped open his exposed stomach with a single slash of your claws, a second later he lets out a blood curdling shriek as a hot river of red pours out of him, his insides beginning to seep out just the same.

In a desperate last attempt to injure you, his eyes go wide in raging madness as his free arm lunges for your neck, you see it coming a mile away. So in retaliation you quickly pin his arms to the ground as you sink your fangs deep into his pale neck as he cries out in agony at your vicious assault. You feed on him until he's gone limp, your more primal hunger taking over your vessel until you abruptly catch the familiar scent of your Witcher and fearful bard.

Releasing Velkyn's mutilated throat, you shift back into your normal self as blood drips down from your chin and neck, tiny red droplets plopping onto the frosty hardened earth below like warm raindrops on a spring afternoon. Breathing heavily you avoid their suffocating gazes that you're sure are terrified from what you've just done.

"Uh, Y/N. You alright?" Wonders Jaskier as you slowly trail your crimson eyes upon his concerned face. You're confident that you look like a wild animal right now, with your hair a mess, clothes dirty, and half your face covered in blood. But nonetheless they look at you kindly, their brows furrowing in worry for your well-being.

Geralt suddenly makes eye contact with you before reaching down to pick up your forgotten silver dagger, he takes a step forward as he reaches out the dagger in your direction.

On instinct you glide backwards, setting your boots upon the ground once more as your Witcher frowns, "Y/N I wouldn't dare lay a hand upon you.." He assures with sincere pleading eyes as you look down to the grass below. Slowly lifting your blood covered hands into your line of sight, you stare at them with wide saddened eyes as tiny beads of ruby falls to the ground.

"My hands, they're covered in..."

"I know," Your eyes trail up to find his golden irises, "come on there's a stream down the trail, we'll get you cleaned up. Then we can go to the tavern and sleep until the next evening if that's what you'd like" Assures Geralt with a gentle smile upon his handsome face, he understands how much of a monster you truly feel right now, so he's willing to do whatever he can to bring you a bit of comfort in this overwhelming moment.

You let out a tired huff of air as he slowly approaches you, his face so close to yours you could almost touch him, but you don't considering you're covered in blood, "I think I'll take you on that offer, but could you stop looking at me with those pretty eyes of yours before I lose my self control. You're doing it again." You muse with a small smile upon your blood stained face.

"And what would you do then?" He challenges in that lowly voice of his, those big amber eyes taking you all in no matter how grisly your state of being is.

Smiling up at him through your pearly white fangs you lean in close, "Then I would mark you as all mine, in my own way of course. You'd love it without a doubt in my mind." He blinks, a lovestruck expression crossing over his features with a brief flash of lust hidden in his golden eyes while he leans in a tad closer. Your faces so close that you can see every little beautiful blemish and scar adorning his skin as his eyes swallow you whole.

"Uh guys? Can we...you know....leave. I don't know if you've noticed but we have two dead horses and a bloody monster corpse within smelling distance. And wheew, it is not a pleasant scent." Interrupts Jaskier, breaking the intimate moment between you and Geralt as you take a step back to laugh. Geralt's loving gaze following you the whole time before he turns around to glare at the oblivious bard.

—-

Laying your tired head against the soft pillows of the warm tavern's bed, you look up to the wooden beamed ceiling as Geralt holds you close by his side, a protective muscly arm pinning you to the mattress. Not that you'd mind or anything, in fact it feels rather pleasant after your taxing encounter with an old acquaintance of yours just last night.

You sleepily close your eyelids as you listen to the soft snores emitting from your dreaming Witcher, a blissful smile forming onto your lips as he pulls you closer in his sleep. Maybe life in this mystery box of a Continent isn't so bad when you have someone like Geralt to take care of you when things get a bit out of hand.

And with you, that seems to happen a lot.

-

Tagged:  @notahappytree​ @ashleyforeverareject​ @sokkasdarling​ @kmuir1​​@haleypearce @diegos-butt​​ (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

[severetimetravelnerd]

I Don’t Know(13) (ft. G Dragon and MINO)

Part 13

You’ve had enough of this crap.

This series will be updated once a week, every Friday! No specific time though lol. It’s an AU where Jiyong has a younger sister and you’re her best friend! Featuring my OC Mirae as the Best friend. Just saying, it’s not related to any of the scenarios I’ve written so far. Please do leave me some comments or asks! I love receiving them! It’s also a bit of a love triangle situation, so yeah :)) There will be eventual smut in this series.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Taglist:

@kwonnansi​ ; @unabashedturkeytreeslime​ ; @happiestgirlontheeastcoast​; @yee-hawwwwwwww​ ; @slayergroupie0128​ ; @herewecomeitsjekki​ ; @happygirl327​ ; @to-all-the-stories-i-love​ ; @kankoshio​

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list:))

This is the second last part!!

Word Count: 2020

WARNINGS:  crying, drinking.

——————————————-

You tried to put up with it. You really did. For two weeks, you respected his wishes and put some distance between the two of you, no matter how much it hurt you to go back to being practically strangers with Jiyong. You didn’t message him. You passed on all messages for him via his manager. You didn’t try and acknowledge his existence at work, even though you were working on his comeback. It got tougher by the day, because his manager had given you printouts of the lyrics of the songs in his comeback for you and your team to have a better idea of what to do and after reading them, you were moments away from bursting into tears, because of the beautiful way in which he put down the feeling of longing he had for you. You knew that feeling. It was what you felt for him. For all those years, and somewhere deep down, you knew you still did. You also had to fight the urge to laugh, because when you read his lyrics about wanting to be close to you, all you wanted to do was shake him and ask him why he was pushing you away again. Yeah, maybe he wasn’t being mean to you this time, but it hurt. It hurt so goddamn much. You were so confused. But you tried. You really tried to maintain the distance. You tried even harder to pretend like it wasn’t affecting you. But you betrayed yourself in the small things. The hope in your eyes whenever you thought you heard his voice. The constant looks towards the door. The general air of weariness about you. The pained expression you got whenever someone spoke about him. Even so, you persevered for two weeks before a combination of things made you snap.

-two weeks later-

You were mid conversation with Hwiyoung when Jiyong’s manager walked in. He was smiling and looked very excited.

“Okay, you guys! I thought it might help with your work if you listened to Jiyong’s album, starting with the title track ‘I Don’t Know’. It’s the song for the music video you’ve been working on!”

And before you could make an excuse to get out of listening to something you knew would only cause you more pain, he started playing it. The moment you heard Jiyong’s voice reading out the message he sent you the night you confessed to him, you found yourself unable to move. You wanted to get up and walk away, but from the sound of his beautifully melodic voice and the things he was talking about, you were stuck in this flurry of memories. They all flashed before your eyes. The day you realised you liked him, the times you cried over him, the times he comforted you; everything took over in this wave of emotions and it proved to be too much for you to bare. The song had ended, but you were still stuck in your own world. You were only jolted out of it when Somin hesitantly wiped a tear off your face. Shocked at yourself, you looked upwards to find Hwiyoung, Lia, Somin and Jiyong’s manager staring at you, confused. You opened your mouth to make an excuse and laugh it off, but you couldn’t.

“I-I need to go.” Your voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

And you walked out of the room, tears streaming down your face.

What was going on? What was Jiyong playing at? You liked him and then he rejected you. You tried getting over him and more or less succeeded, but then he entered your life again. He told you he loved you, he acted like he cared. He drew you out of your walls, enough to trust him again and expect something from him, when he disappeared and ignored your existence. That song pushed you too far. You were just so confused. You walked down the hall, fully planning on crying until you calmed down and returning to work, when you heard his voice. At first, you thought it was just the song echoing in your head, when you heard it again. His laugh. Pausing, you looked around and realised you were near a practice room, with the door wide open. Against what your mind was telling you to do, you peeped in to see Jiyong doubled over with laughter and the actor blushing and hiding her face.

“Jiyong, stop laughing at me!”

“That is not what I meant when I said dance.”

“Well, I know that now.”

“Here, this is how you do it.”

He turned her to face him and guided her arms to wrap around his neck. Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaned her head against his chest and began swaying to the music. And that was it. You snapped. It wasn’t even seeing the way she looked at him or the way he touched her, though that didn’t help. It was the song he played while dancing with her. It was the same song that played for the first dance at Sohyun’s wedding. It was the same song the two of you danced to over and over again. You looked down at your phone, looking through the images and finding the picture from that night. It was one of the few good memories you had with him. Subconsciously, you always thought of that song as special to you and Jiyong. Seeing just how special it was to him, you felt betrayed. It wasn’t even noon, but you were done. You needed it to stop. You walked off, deciding to go to Mirae’s house and drink your ass off. Little did you know Jiyong heard your footsteps as you walked off. He wanted to run after you, hold you and erase every memory of him with that other girl, but he couldn’t. He knew he had to maintain the space. You were happier without him.

---

Mirae jumped up from the couch when she heard this continuous knocking on her door, almost annoyingly loud.

“Hold on, for fuck’s sake! I’ll be there in a minute.”

She flung open the door, fully prepared to scream at whoever was at the door when her jaw dropped. You were standing there, seriously dishevelled, in your work clothes. Your hair was pulled out of the neat arrangement it had been in in the morning, your make up was smudged from all the crying and you had tear marks running down your face. You had this painfully forced smile on your face and you held two bottles of wine in your hand.

“Mirae! Babe,” You threw your arms around her. “Let’s get drunk.”

“Y/N, what? It’s 11 am.”

“So what? Who cares? It’s just a little wine anyway.”

And before Mirae could stop and ask you what happened, you opened a bottle of wine and chugged.

Mirae gently coaxed the bottle, which was half empty, out of your hand and sat you down.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

You grabbed the bottle back. “Nope.”

Before you could drink again, Mirae snatched it away again.

“No, we’re not doing this. You’re going to get drunk and rant and then forget everything if you continue drinking. Not happening. We’re going to talk this out and deal with our problems, okay? We can take however long you want, and you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you’re not doing this thing again where you try to forget about them.”

You fell silent.

“You wanna take a shower and change into something comfy? I’ll fix you something to eat in the meantime.”

You slowly nodded and left. When you got back, you were decidedly calmer. Your skin was a little splotchy from having cried so much, but you weren’t near hysterical anymore, which is always a good thing. Mirae just quietly watched you and didn’t say a word until you had eaten. While handing you a glass of water, she sat down beside you and pulled you into a hug.

“Y/N, I don’t know what happened, but it’s okay. I’m here for you. We’re going to get through this.”

You couldn’t help it. You started crying again. She held you and let you cry it all out before finally asking you,

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah.”

You took a deep breath and started ranting about Jiyong. Mirae heard you out throughout and with each passing second, she got more annoyed at her brother.

“Good god, he is an idiot. I don’t know what he’s thinking. You know what he rants about when he’s drunk? About how he would do anything for your happiness. I didn’t realise he meant he wanted to pull this bullshit. He always talks about how he will wait for you, no matter how long it takes, if you’re unhappy. That idiot doesn’t realise that there is no need to wait for fuck’s sake. He even heard you tell him you love him. But no, that’s not enough. Why? “She won’t remember saying it.””

She paused when she noticed you staring at her.

“What?”

“I told him I love him?”

“Yeah, you did. You were drunk, which is probably why you don’t remember.”

But the moment she said that, hazy recollections of the night he sat with you in the park started to come back to you. Fuck. You told him you loved him. You told him you missed him. And as you sat there shocked over your words, you realised just how true they were. Shocked, you whispered to yourself,

“Then why is he doing this?”

Mirae sighed. “He’s an idiot, that’s why. Also, he thinks he’s never seen you smile as happily as you did when you were with Minho.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s only because I wasn’t with him!”

“I know that. You know that. The only problem is he doesn’t.”

You jumped up, determined to go and talk things out with Jiyong, when Mirae held your arm, stopping you.

“Look, I know you want to go talk to him now, but it’s only 2 in the afternoon. He’s still at work, with everyone else there. If someone records your conversation, it would be a huge scandal. You should talk to him after he goes home. Why don’t you nap for a while instead? I know you haven’t been sleeping all that well.”

Reluctantly, you followed her advice. She was right. You couldn’t afford to risk a scandal involving you, Jiyong, Yuna, Jae and Minho.

---

It was late when you woke up from your nap. Really late. You rubbed your eyes and reached across to check the time on your phone. 11pm. Wait. What. How on earth did you sleep for nine hours straight?! You doubled checked the alarms you set on your phone. Great. You managed to sleep through all of them. You looked around Mirae’s room and you saw a family photo. Jiyong. That was why you were exhausted in the first place. You couldn’t sleep thinking about him. Well, not anymore.

---

Jiyong was lazily watching some old reruns of a tv show, not able to bring himself to watch anything you liked, when he heard someone maniacally banging on his front door. Worried for a minute, his fear eased when he heard your voice.

“Kwon Jiyong, I know you’re in there! And if you don’t fucking open this door, I’ll stay here all night.”

Worried about you, he gently opened the door, prepared more for you coming in and sitting down. He was not prepared for you storming in with crazed eyes, kicking the door shut behind you, grabbing his collar and pushing him against a wall.

“Wh-what”-

“Enough. I’ve had enough of this Jiyong. Why? Why are we putting ourselves through this?! No. Why are you putting me through this?!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve had enough of you ignoring me.”

“Y/N, I had to-”

“Shut the fuck up and listen. I love you Jiyong.”

And you pulled him closer, sliding your arms around his neck before kissing him.

---

Copyright © 2020-2021 @severetimetravelnerd All rights reserved.

Any unlawful and unauthorized sharing of these works will result in legal action.

(Reblogs are good :) )

[hawksmagnolia]

Not My Name

Drunk Drabble prompt submitted to @HBC

Summary: Reader is tired of shitty sex and Clint’s constant teasing. Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands.

Who: Bucky/reader

Word count: 1,412

Warnings: It’s smut yo. And swearing. And more smut.

Authors Note: Thank you anon for the awesome prompt! I hope you enjoy it. -xo- Allie

“Hey little girl, you got eyes on them?”

“Call me little girl again and I’m going to kick your ass Barton.” I mumbled into the comm.

Clint scoffed. “As if.”

Rolling my eyes, I adjusted my binoculars. “Yeah, I got them. Does Steve know that he’s got a rip in his pants just south of his left ass cheek?”

There was a choked sound and I smirked. Clint was to my left and three stories higher because he wasn’t happy unless there was nothing between him and the sky. Barnes was a building over, a lurking shadow at the steps to a nearby building. Barnes never joined in with Clint and I as we passed time on jobs like this. We had to do something, sometimes we were stuck in position for hours and too much time alone means you start talking to pigeons. Steve had made us stay on our own channel although Barnes could override it if shit went sideways. 

“So, how’d your date go last night?”

“Can you not Clint?”

“Hey, I’m your friend. And friends are allowed to ask why your date left looking well and truly fucked and you were a cranky bitch at breakfast this morning. Did he fail too?”

Groaning, I smacked the heel of my hand on my forehead. “I should have never told you that. Ever.”

“I’m just saying, I am totally willing to take a chance at making your dreams come true.”

“You’re a pig.”

Clint laughed. “I am, but you love me anyways. But seriously, this is what- guy number 4 who can’t fuck you to climax with just his cock? Your taste in men sucks.”

“Thanks ever so much Clint for reminding me of that.”

There was a quiet click and a hiss. “Do you two ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nope. What’s wrong Barnes? Feeling left out?”

“Someone has to actually pay attention, especially since we’re clear. But you two can hang out in the trees if you want to. Or maybe you should get a room.”

“Fuck off Barnes.” Clint answered cheerfully. “Race you to the truck. Loser buys Thai food on the way back to the hotel.”

========

I was standing in the bathroom in my favorite pjs (a worn hoodie from the soccer team I played on in college and a pair of boxers left behind from two boyfriends ago) towel drying my hair when someone knocked. 

Puzzled, I set my towel down on the counter and padded barefoot to open the door. I was expecting to see Clint or even Steve when it swung out, but I was way off.

I was absolutely not expecting to see James Buchanan “Call me Bucky” Barnes standing there in a pair of perfectly broken in jeans and a blue henley.

I’d heard women swoon about the henleys. Now I knew why, I’d never seen anyone fill out the sleeves of one like he did. It should be illegal for a prosthetic arm to make me want to throw my underwear at him like he was a rock star.

“Barnes. Is everything okay?” I couldn’t even think of a time he’d ever graced my doorstep.

He raised and brow and smirked. “I heard you and Barton earlier.”

“Ok…you always hear us?”

He glanced down the hallway before slipping into my room and shutting the door behind him and throwing the bolt. 

“Uh, Barnes? Is this some secret squirrel spy shit?”

“That’s not my name.”

“What?”

He grinned at me causing my belly to do a flip as he pushed my damp hair out of my face. “I said, that’s not my name. I’ll be damned if you’re going to yell that when I make you cum your brains out.”

Now it was my turn to swallow hard as he continued. “I said, I heard you and Barton. About how no man can get you off so I’m here to volunteer.”

Finally having recovered my wits, I was able to smirk. “Oh, how sweet. Coming to my rescue?”

“Hell no. I’m going to ruin you for any other guy.”

“Bring it Barnes.”

“I told you..” He crowded me until my knees hit the edge of the bed and I stumbled back onto it. “That’s not my name.” He brushed his jaw against mine and I was almost embarrassed how my body reacted to just him being close. Almost.

It had been way too long since a guy had made my body feel alive and being around Bucky was like touching a live wire. He caged my head with his arms and licked down the side of my neck before burying his fingers in my hair and kissing me in a smack of teeth, tongue and lips. I moaned into his mouth as he released my hair long enough to yank off my hoodie. 

“Look at you, nothing but that between your skin and me.” He drew a lazy fingertip down from my collarbone and over my nipples making me cry out as they tightened. “So goddamn pretty.” 

I felt like I was on fire, that my skin was too tight on my bones and could burst into flames any moment. His hands were everywhere, his mouth biting and sucking at my lips, my jaw. I finally managed to grab hold of the bottom of his henley and my fingertips brushed over his cobbled abdomen. He yanked it off in one fast motion, not wanting to leave my mouth for too long. His thigh was pressed between my thighs and I groaned at the friction, twisting as I tried to press harder against the denim.

“Not yet doll. Not yet.” I whined as he moved away from me. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of the boxers he drew them down over my legs and they joined the hoodie and henley on the floor. I stared up at him, half drowning in lust as he picked up my foot and pressed a kiss to the ankle. I whimpered as he knelt between my knees and, with no warning, buried his face into me. His nose bumped my clit as his tongue swirled over the delicate flesh. I felt him press a single finger deep into me, felt the delicious scrape of it as he curled it slightly. I was so lost in his actions that when he stopped, I immediately cried his name and he smiled.

“Oh baby, you’re going to thank me for stopping there.”

“No I won’t- dammit Bucky! Why would…oh!”

He cut me off by thrusting hard and bottoming out in me. There was nothing soft or sweet but he’d made sure I was more than ready for his cock. It burned but it was the best kind, that ache of finally having a tight muscle release and the sharp relief that comes from it. He snapped his hips, my body relishing every violent moment of it.

He shifted, propping himself up on a hand, the metal fingers of his left securing my hips in place when I tried to wiggle.

“Oh no doll. Just you and me.” 

I felt like every muscle in my body was straining as I climbed, higher than I ever had before. Bucky’s cock grazed over my clit with each stroke but not enough to give me any relief. He ground his hips into mine as I fisted my hands in the sheets, my body finally releasing, soaking both of us as I flooded out weeks of sexual frustration. He grinned but didn’t relent until he started to grow sloppy and he groaned, collapsing onto me as he splashed my walls.

We laid like that for a while. I’m not sure how long. Long enough my heart to stop pounding in my ears and for our breathing to even out. He was heavy but not enough to make it uncomfortable. His head was on my chest, his eyes closed and I gently swept my finger over the dark curve of his lashes. 

“You dead?”

“Mm, little bit. Need water and fifteen minutes and we can go for round two.”

“What?”

He peeked up at me and laughed. “Doll, I told you. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. Besides, can’t have you being cranky in the mornings now can we?”

I carded my fingers through his dark hair. “Absolutely not. Also Clint’s room is next door and I don’t think he heard me this time.”

“Mmm, bet he will next time.”

@the-ss-horniest-book-club​

@nano--raptor @cchellacat @eurynome827 @jobean12-blog @book-dragon-13 @aesthetical-bucky @marvelgirl7 @sallycanwait68 @buckys-broody-muffin @softpeachbarnes @godofplumsandthunder @azurika-writes @ikaris-whore @this-kitten-is-smitten @randomfandompenguin @bucky-plums-barnes​ @bugsbucky​ @littleredstarfish​ @emilylyoness​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @daughterofsteven​ @ballyhoobarnes​

[giorno-plays-piano]

Treasure hunt Part 3

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, forced pregnancy.

Words: 1884.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

Part 1

Part 2

_____________

"Don't you dare hurt her!" The boy's desperate voice cut through the heavy silence, and Steve saw his long scaled tail with a razor-edged tip just like his own. "Step away, or I will burn you to ashes!"

Steve's son had his face, child's light blue eyes burning with hatred and pure savagery at the sight of his father, the one who had been chasing him before he was even born. The boy had his golden hair, too, shining in the sun. Everything in his look reminded Steve of himself when he was younger, but he could see your features in the boy's face, and the way he moved, talked and thought was yours, undoubtedly.

"You are my flesh and blood." The man whispered, amazed, confused. "Your fire can't hurt me."

His son sent him a triumphant smile, baring his sharp teeth, and reached out to his pocket to grab an odd small bottle. Oh, Steve didn't like it.

"We'll see about that."

Once the boy opened the bottle, Steve felt a repulsive scent filling his nostrils. It was the goddamn pyrite potion. Once consumed, it would give his son the power to burn both Heaven and Hell. Gods, how did he learn about the potion? Where did he find it? What did he give in return?

"Run." Your weak voice made the boy look at you with both fear and sadness, but then Steve saw determination in his face. "I'll hold him! RUN!"

Your grip on his shoulder became harder, but both of you knew no one could detain Steve here longer - except for his son and the pyrite potion in his clawed hands. His little child was only ten by now, yet he had eyes of a grown man, tired, anxious, desperate. He was well prepared to fight for you, the mother that kept him hidden when Steve roamed the earth, searching for you two for more than a decade.

The deep hatred in his child's eyes made the man shook.

"You can burn half of your face with that." The dragon said, pointing to the little bottle carefully with his human finger.

"If it means the world will get rid of you, I'm ready to burn myself, too."

_______________

Steve woke up with you hovering above him and shaking him by the shoulders in distress. His face was wet - apparently, he had been crying in his sleep, horrified by the pure nightmare he saw, the image of his son drinking the pyrite potion in front of him forever captured in his memory. Looking at your face pale with worry, the dragon wept and snuggled against your round belly. It was all a dream. It did not happen. Yet.

He let out a loud cry and kept his eyes shut while you were caressing his soft hair, afraid to  ask for an explanation as he was shaking against your body. You didn't understand what was happening to him, but he felt too weak to talk.

His own son was ready to kill himself if it meant Steve would stop following him and his mother. His dear little child became so hateful and bitter he wanted nothing else than to see his father's death.

What had Steve done? How much did he hurt his boy and you to make the both of you hate him to such extent?

He couldn't bear to think of it.

"It is alright." You cooed lovingly and pressed his blond head to your bulging belly. "It is alright, dear. You're safe. I'm here with you."

Steve felt deeply disgusted at himself, listening to your lovely voice: he was the one whose rile was to keep you safe and sound, and yet he abused you instead, locking you inside his cave, making you do what you were told, forcing you to bear his child. He believed you grew to love him, but was it true? What choice did you have rather than submitting to him?

He had been blind, thinking he could make you love him. Love couldn't be forced. He had to earn it.

"I'm sorry." He uttered, afraid to look at you and keeping his eyes shut. "I'm sorry!"

You froze on the spot, unsure of what you just heard. Did he apologize? Why? For what? What did he had to do to apologize for it? You couldn't remember the last time he said sorry to you, regardless of what he did. He thought he had always been right, always. To think of it, he hadn't been too cruel to you, but you had never pushed him to. As soon as you realized his power was absolute, you gave up, not willing to risk it. Your first attempt to flee failed because of the dragon fruit you'd eaten the day you met Steve, and all other attempts were worthless as you couldn't leave the cave without his permission. What else could you do? No magic treasure of his was able to kill him, his scales and ancient dragon charms protecting him fully.

You had to live with it. Thankfully, Steve had treated you kindly once you stopped rebuffing him, even taking you outside with him when he deemed it useful to keep you healthy and content.

What was he saying sorry for, though? You didn't believe he had finally felt remorse after many months of keeping you with him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sor..." He kept whispering feverishly until you bended over and kissed the top of his head, concerned with his state. "What have I done? What have I done?"

You didn't know what dark thoughts he harboured, but you were frightened. You had never seen him like that. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

"It's alright, darling. You're going to get better."

"No, no!" He cried softly, kissing your belly over and over again. "It's all my fault. If it's going to happen, it's all my fault."

Ah, he probably saw something terrible in his sleep. That was it, you thought. Of course, what else did you expect from Steve? He wasn't human. You doubted he knew what it was like to be trapped against your will, even if you had feelings for him. He had never obeyed anyone and lived free as a jaybird. Steve was the one and only King who ruled over these lands, what could he know about your fears and pain?

"It wasn't right. What I've done... it wasn't right. I'm sorry, my love, I'm sorry, for I have hurt you."

Your eyes flew open at his words when you stared at his soft golden hair, running your hand over his lovely locks. Gods, what did he see in that nightmare of his? What had forced these words out of his mouth?

"I should have never made you to stay against your will..." Steve's cries had finally ceased and he lifted his head, his face red and puffy, blue eyes glowing in the dark. "I have been blind. I... I give you my word, I will not make you stay here any longer."

"W-what are you saying, Steve?"

Would he let you go? Would he let you return back to people instead of locking you in his dungeon? For the moment you forgot how to breath, watching the dragon with both fear and an odd excitement.

"You said you were travelling before the villagers took you away, didn't you?" He sounded calmer, but his heated gaze showed he was still agitated as his palms gently brushed against your belly. "Do you want to travel again? Do you want to see the world?"

"Yes!" Your answer was immediate, your eyes sparkling with happiness - he hadn't seen you so joyful for a long time.

"Then we will leave tomorrow morning." He whispered and moved up, sitting close to you on your spacious bed high above the ground, furs and blankets all over the bedsheets. "I will take you to the East to show you the most attractable secrets of the Orient. Or would you like to fly up to the South to see the Great Ocean? The Sacred Mountains of the Northen island? Would you want to see the waterfalls of the Acient?"

"Yes! I want to see them all!" Tears of joy filled your eyes, and Steve smiled at you, cupping your face with his hot hands. "Let's do it, my love! Let's leave this place for good!"

Then he leaned forward to you and left a tender kiss on your forehead, brushing away your hair. You looked so cheerful, contented, extremely pleased with him like never before. It was so easy to make you happy, yet he had always thought you were happy enough with him in that cave of his, stuffed with all those things you cared little for. Why was he so stuborn? Why had he forgotten what his own mother had taught him when he was a boy? He had forgotten what the true kindness meant.

"'Tomorrow morning we will leave." The dragon assured you, leaving little kisses on your face here and there, his eyes welling up. "Don't worry, you won't have to ride me as you did when I brought you here, I will make you... a rickshaw! A cart of some kind where you'll be safe and sound."

Amazed at his enthusiasm, you burst out laughing and shook your head, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. You didn't know what he saw in his dream, but you were ready to keep thanking the gods for eternity for sending the dragon this nightmare. You were free to leave. You could see the world as you had always dreamed, a dragon at your side to protect you and the child growing fast in your belly. You couldn't pretend you wanted to abandon your own child and the man who, aside from keeping you captive, loved you like no one else did. If only Steve was more perceptive of what he was doing, realizing he might be wrong instead of claiming he always knew what was better for your and the child...

But maybe you had a chance to make him understand now. Maybe from now on everything would be different.

"We need to sleep, sweetheart." Steve whispered gently, helping you to lay down on the side - your big belly didn't let you to sleep on your back. "We'll have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Yes." You answered and snuggled closer to him, his breath tickling the top of your head. "Yes, my love. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams."

Watching you close to him, Steve let out a loud breath, finally calming down. Yes, it was right. He needed to take you away from this place. He needed to give you the life you always wanted and make you happy so you would never leave his side. He needed to raise his child with affection and care, watching him grow as a boy loved deeply by his parents, not a little fugitive with a heart full of hatred and desire to kill. The boy didn't deserve a future like this. No one did.

"I will never let it happen." The dragon whispered after making sure you fell asleep. "The stars of heaven shall fall, but I will never make you suffer this fate."

_______________

Tags: @finleyjayne  @alexakeyloveloki ​ @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin​ @lovelydarkdaydream

[yan-twst]

hello! can I request a fluff dorm leaders reaction to the Yuu/reader proposing to them

tfw you were gonna use the word "fiancé(e)" but it's a goddamn french word so it's gendered and the parenthesis looks ugly as hell and isn't even a gender neutral alternative ヽ(；▽；)ノ

riddle rosehearts

he'd immediately go cherry red and be at a loss for words

he'd be internally scrambling to respond, knowing that he has to say something, but his mind is drawing blanks. is this- this is happening. oh god it's happening

he'd barely choke out a "yes" before taking his darling into a tight hug; he's overwhelmed with emotion. he loves them more than anything: to know they want to spend the rest of their life with him, even with all his oddities and habits...

he wouldn't cry, but he'd get teary eyed in the hug, telling his darling how much he loves them. he'd spent so much of his life under his mother's thumb, being shaped into the "perfect son"- but now, he had found someone who wanted to share a future with him as he was, without making him change

leona kingscholar

the prince would freeze for a second, then quickly react with a fond laugh- of course he wants to marry his darling! duh. he'd say yes and immediately sweep his darling off their feet

he'd immediately smother them with kisses- he actually doesn't know exactly how to react, but he's so happy and full of love that his instincts tell him to kiss his darling.

for a long time, leona had never thought anyone would want to be with him- leave alone marry; he was known as a grumpy, violent and useless second prince, and he'd assumed that his brother, farena, would end up arranging some marriage to get him out of the palace. but it won't be that way- now he has his darling, and they're the ones telling him they wish to spend their life with him

he usually tries to downplay his excitement and emotions, but he can't for this particular ocasion. of course he can't: his darling is once again showing him how much they love him- he hasn't felt so happy and excited for the futufe in a long time

azul ashengrotto

he'd immediately gasp and cover his mouth in shock. did he- did he hear right?! a proposal, coming from his darling- to him...?!

he cries from joy. absolutely reduced to tears, his usual cool and sly act completely gone as the wave of emotions hits him. he's crying and trying to speak at the same time, barely even making a coherent "yes" as he wraps his darling into a hug

he always thought his future was lonely; part from how insecure he felt of himself due to his childhood bullying, and part because he knew his business was shady and nobody trusted him. so to be there, holding his beloved in his arms, accepting their proposal- it's better than a dream

for once, all his insecurities melt away for a second- his darling chose him, they popped the question to him. they love him and want to spend their life with him- the happy tears don't stop flowing, even if he's wetting his darling's shoulder with them

kalim al-asim

he's on the moon and almost jumping when his darling pops the question. is it even a question?! of course he wants to marry them! he's the luckiest man in the world!!

despite growing up seeing his father be rather dismissive of some of his wives, kalim deeply believes in love and marriage from fairytales and legends. his darling wants to marry him; that's the ultimate expression of love! oh, he loves them so much!!

he cries a little from the excitement, but he's mostly just full of energy. he's bouncing all over, hugging and kissing his darling, twirling them around- he's overjoyed and it shows

he'll immediately want to inform everyone he cares for of the good news- his darling might have been the first to propose, but now kalim gets to throw a big parade for his now bethroted! he ha to show the world his joy and love!

vil schoenheit

for such a dramatic man, vil is rendered speechless when his darling proposes to him on a date night. his eyes are wide and his cheeks go red- for a second, there's silence. he seems to be getting teary-eyed, but holds back the tears; he cannot have his mascara running while he's being proposed to!

he'll say yes in the most flowery, poetic way he can while holding back tears and practically shaking from how excited and happy he is. he can't believe his darling was the first to propose; however, the amount of joy he feels more than makes up for the fact they caught him off guard

he'd take them into his arms and kiss them- for today, he won't fuss about ruining his lipstick. there's much more important matters- of course they are! he was just proposed to by the love of his life!

he'll feel the urge to slow dance with hus darling. he just wants to hold them close, and gently sway with them for a while; he wishes he could say more, but the only words he seems to be able to muster from his love-overdriven heart are variations of "i love you" at the moment

idia shroud

he's shaking a bit when his darling begins to ask the fateful question. could it be- is he dreaming? he has to be dreaming, right...? could it truly be someone as amazing and beautiful as his darling is asking to spend the rest of their life with someone like him...?

he'll ask them if they're sure- to propose to him?! truly?! his darling probably already knows idia is quite peculiar in this sense; he's reassured by their gentle explanations. yes, they love him, yes, they want to share their future with him- and once he's convinced, he basically cries out yes

he feels like he just got the maximum achievement in life- the cutscenes from games where you can propose to characters absolutely do not compare to the real thing, he concludes. he's flustered and overjoyed- he doesn't even notice he's instinctively hugged his darling thight, or that there's tears in his eyes

he cannot comprehend how such an amazing person like his darling would want to stay by his side and love him for the rest of their lives; however, he can't think of a happier future

malleus draconia

he remembers his darling had once asked what dragon fae like him did when proposing and marrying- what were their traditions? did they do anything different from humans? at the time, malleus had assumed that his darling was merely curious

but when his darling surprises him with a traditional fae proposal from his land (well, as good as one that a magicless, non-fae could make), he realizes how foolish he was: of course his darling would go the extra mile. and it worked- he couldn't even begin to express how touched he was

a promise to spend the rest of their time together... for humans with such short lives, the promise meant a lot; and to malleus, it meant even more. that his darling loved him so much, that they saw a future with him when everyone else in his life seemed to flee in terror from him- it brings a tear to his eye

he'd immediately take his darling's hand into his, and then gently pull them close, touching his forehead to theirs. they were truly a special, beautiful person, weren't they? of course he'd accept their proposal- he couldn't see any better way to spend the upcoming years

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Partners in Crime

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment over on Ao3!

Just a silly little scenario I had rattling around in my head! Huge thanks to @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short for always being amazing betas!

tw: mentions of drinking, hangovers

Juno Steel opened his eye and immediately wanted to strangle the person who had designed this hotel room. Any interior decorator who knew they were putting together a hotel room in Nueva Vegas, the prime place on Neptune where people went to get blackout drunk and collect the finest hangover symptoms in the galaxy, yet still insisted on neon wallpaper deserved death.

He inhaled, feeling an ache in his ribs that came from too much raucous laughter and tasting stale alcohol, taking a mental catalogue of his body as his nerves came back online. His eyelashes felt heavy with mascara that had curdled overnight, his throat felt rough with overuse, his stomach only had a slight roil to it, a sea on a choppy day rather than in the middle of a storm. He was wearing the pyjama bottoms he’d actually packed but he couldn’t speak for the shirt- his top half was still wearing last night’s spangled bralet.

And he had Nureyev’s arm thrown bonelessly over his chest, his sharp chin digging a little painfully into his shoulder, his soft snores in one ear and his dark flyaways ticking his nose. His breath smelled pretty strongly of gin but Juno could put up with that, he wasn’t one to throw stones.

Overall, Juno Steel had suffered far worse mornings. In fact, this one would probably still make it into the top twenty.

Smiling, he gently nudged Nureyev to one side, making sure he fell back against the lavish pillows and settled again before sliding out from under the silky sheets. The hotel room’s crisp air conditioning raised goosebumps across his skin as he padded across the room, stockinged feet sinking considerably into the thick, bright pink carpets. They really had made an ungodly mess of one of the most expensive hotel rooms on Neptune, he was pretty impressed with just how many empty plastic glasses, dregs of champagne clinging to their sides, were scattered around the hot tub, just how much glitter had shed from their clothes onto the floor, the probably very incriminating blueprints and files and notes that were scattered like confetti. Not incriminating for the job they’d just pulled off, of course, just several they were considering in the future.

There was no sign of the rest of their family, no Rita singing almost incomprehensible karaoke into a can of chips, no Jet sitting in a chair by the window with his arms folded and head nodding as he slept like an old dad though a whisper of any threat would snap him up and ready. No Buddy and Vespa slow dancing to music only they seemed able to hear while the neon flashes from the signs outside the window bathed them in candy coloured light.

They must have staggered back to their own rooms, just before the celebrations of a job well done would have wound down into a sleepover. Juno frowned as he scratched tiredly at where his hair was matted down, trying to remember. Buddy’s usual habit of making them all drink as much water before bed as she could had saved him from vomiting and a splitting head but memories were still fuzzy. Very fuzzy actually, now he tried to grab hold of them. No wonder his tongue tasted of about half the bottles behind the bar and his bladder felt fit to burst.

By the time he’d gone into the bathroom, wincing at the colour of lime green it had all been done up in, and dealt with that problem he could hear Nureyev stirring.

Coming back into the room, now dressed a little more appropriately in a soft bathrobe, he saw him stretching like a cat, his own wince playing across his sleepy face.

“Good morning,” he rasped, “Feeling rough too, huh?”

“Fairly,” Nureyev croaked, not making it very far before slumping back against the pillows, “What time did Buddy say we had to be back on board?”

“Not till three. It’s only eleven right now.”

“Ugh...I might not make it.”

Juno snorted, rolling his eye, “God, you’re such a lightweight, you whine so much when you’re hungover. Look, I’ll pack the bags, you focus on getting your shoes on. I think one of them’s in the hot tub.”

Nureyev groaned, bringing his hands up to bury his face in them as Juno pulled the curtains wide and flooded the room with pale sunlight. So little actual sunlight could reach this distant gas giant, what fell across Nureyev’s face was actually simulated from a massive rig of translucent spotlights that covered the city much like Mars’ domes. Rita had told him all about it around their third glasses of champagne, before her speech started collapsing into inhuman giggles and nonesene and his memories got cloudy.

He certainly couldn’t remember quite how they’d gotten the room into such a state. It hadn’t even really been that big of a job, a fairly run of the mill casino heist to fund some bigger projects that Buddy had percolating in her brain. But, from the lingering carnage of their celebration, you’d think they’d stolen a goddamn planet rather than a few measly hundred thousands of creds.

And there was a lot of confetti. All over the damn place, where had that all come from?

“Babe?” Juno frowned as he started pulling their papers together, “Do you remember much about last night?”

Nureyev gave a sleep mumble and Juno heard the sound of the silken sheets running over each other as he turned, “I remember us pulling off a job so seamless it deserves to be in some kind of textbook on thieving. I remember everyone coming into our room. I remember Buddy ordering champagne...and that’s it.”

Juno suppressed a snort of amusement. He was sure if it was his husband’s small frame or his lack of experience with the stuff but about two swallows of anything alcoholic had him absolutely useless. Adorable but useless.

“Just seems like we really tore it up for some reason,” Juno shrugged as he moved further along, now gathering up scraps of their disguises- the velour blazer he’d been wearing over that bralet, the other one of Nureyev’s stiletto heels, a diamond ring he couldn’t remember which one of them had worn.

He paused, something about that ring making him stop. It was lying in the midst of some other jewels he’d been wearing yesterday in his role as a ridiculously wealthy outer rim socialite. So it must have been his, he didn’t exactly need his years of experience as a detective to realise that. So why didn’t he remember it? Why did it look so brand new, so out of place with everything else lying in that modest dragon’s horde of luxury?

“My love?”

Juno turned, taking the ring with him, “Yeah?”

Nureyev was still lying in bed, though he was holding his left hand a little ways from his face, frowning curiously up at it as he turned it this way and that. As he watched the fake morning sun catch in the gem on a ring that sat there, a ring identical to the one Juno held.

“Did...did we get married?” Nureyev said slowly, an expression on his face not dissimilar to the one he wore when he was doing one of the many puzzle boxes Juno got him as gifts, after he’d realised a year ago that he loved them.

“Yes, about a year and a half ago. You were there, remember?”

Nureyev shot him a look across the room, “I mean last night, my love.”

Juno sucked in a long, slow breath before answering, throwing the ring up in the air and catching it, “Yeah, that would really explain a lot, huh?”

They caught each other’s eye then and after that there was nothing they could do but laugh, hard and helpless until Juno was having to brace himself on his knees to stay upright and Nureyev was curled on one side and trembling.

Once he could see and breathe clearly again, Juno found it, lying amongst a sheaf of floor plans for the casino they’d robbed yesterday. A wedding certificate, one corner of it crinkled and soaked where some spilled champagne had caught it, a little rumbled from being shoved into the pocket of a velour blazer on the car ride back to the hotel but fairly unmistakeable. The signatures were certainly theirs, even if the names weren’t.

“Yep,” Juno’s face still ached from grinning as he climbed back into bed next to his husband-twice-over, “Apparently once Rigel Fortescue and Jack Antares were done being complete strangers while the Orion’s Palace Casino had half it’s funds drained, they went off and got married.”

“Congratulations to us, I suppose,” Nureyev wiped his streaming eyes, giggles still pressing up against his words, “Oh god help us, is there any way we can keep this from the rest of the crew?”

“Well, looks like they all signed as our witnesses so I don’t think that’s an option, babe,” Juno snorted, showing him the band of signatures clustered along the bottom of the certificate, each one a ridiculous pseudonym but the handwriting was all familiar, even with how drunk their friends had clearly been.

Nureyev gave a groan of dismay that he didn’t really seem to feel, cuddling up against Juno, “Does this make us a little trashy?”

“Yeah well, you knew who I was when you married me,” Juno nudged him teasingly, “Both times.”

“Hush!” Nureyev kissed his shoulder, moving slightly so he could hitch one leg over Juno’s hip. He was still wearing his suit trousers from last night, Juno noticed, if last night really had been their wedding night then they’d neglected a pretty significant part of it.

So he turned to meet Nureyev’s body with his own, wrapping an arm around his slim waist to close what little gap there still was between them, “Maybe this could be our thing? We wear a new name pretty much every week anyhow, why don’t we get married as many times as we feel like? I know personally I’d be willing to go...well, at least another three times. Maybe four, for the money.”

He felt a light nip through the shoulder of the robe as Nureyev admonished him with his teeth. Though his hands were saying something different as they slid down Juno’s back, squeezing lightly.

“I suppose it could be quite a fun tradition…” he murmured softly, “But I would like to remember the next one. Perhaps a beach wedding on Saturn…”

Juno grinned and kissed the top of his head, “Whatever you want, babe. I’ll make sure the next one is perfect.”

“Our first one already was. But there were parts of my moodboards I didn’t get to use…”

Juno nudged him lightly until he was on his back, starting to kiss his way down his neck, tasting his perfume on his lips, “And?”

“And I love you,” Nureyev amended, smiling as innocently as someone very obviously moving his wife’s legs apart with his own could, “And marrying you a thousand times wouldn’t be enough to show you how much.”

“I love you too,” Juno murmured against his collarbone, “Happy honeymoon, baby.”

And, as much of a surprise as it had been, as much as their heads still ached and they could still taste cocktails on each other’s tongues, as much as they had a ship to catch in a few hours, it was. It really, really was.

[owlespresso]

Mechanist’s Machinations/Stephanivien

Warrior of Light/Stephanivien Spice below the cut! If you like what I do, consider supporting me via ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/owlespresso

Twice a year, during each solstice, the high clans of Ishgard held a ball of changing seasons. Being new to the civilization, you had yet to experience one fully. Stephanivien both waxed poetic to you about the glimmering atmosphere and fully admitted to the stuffiness of that came with the formality, but even he could not deny the fairytale-esque nature of such events. The ballroom opened wide. Paintings depicting legends of eld spanned across the domed ceiling, prompting you to crane your neck as you stared up in abject awe.

Perhaps you could have committed more of the stunning view to memory had the toy nestled between your legs not twitched and buzzed. Your thighs squeezed and tightened inside of your grandiose dress, gaze snapping back down to earth as you sought your mischievous partner. 

“Keep your eyes ahead of you,” Stephanivien’s heavy palm pressed to your lower back. Amusement was all too obvious, primely displayed in the curl of his lips and the low set of his eyelids. “Lest you bump into Archombadin de Dzemael a second time.”

“The first was your fault,” you hissed under your breath, gently elbowing him as the two of you made your way into the gathering proper. The rich sound of the orchestra bounced off the rounded walls, filling the room with beautiful music. Nearly every one of your senses was accosted by the pure majesty of the scene… except for touch. The presence of the toy between your legs was painfully obvious to you. Your pussy walls clenched desperately around it, your stance stiff as you accompanied your lover into the incredible ballroom. 

You have to pat yourself on the back for deciding not to wear heels to this occasion. If you had, you would be on the floor in mere moments with the stunted penguin steps you’re taking.

“That much I will concede,” Stephanivien replied, a glimmer of fondness in his gaze. His hand spanned across the small of your back, never once leaving your body lest he lose you in the crowd. You fancied yourself a woman who could take care of herself, but if you were to become separated from him whilst this goddamn thing was in between your legs, you would lose your mind. “My deepest apologies, love. Allow me to make it up to you.”

“Oh, you’ll be making it up to me plenty later,” you scoff at him with a small scowl, a pout turning the corners of your lips softly downwards. If he feels any semblance of sympathy he’ll have no problem with you shoving his face in place of the goddamned toy when you get him alone. 

Simply accompanying him to the ball had been enough of a favor, but going along with his hare-brained sex play was another thing entirely. You feel unnaturally naked and exposed despite the lengthy dress you’ve picked out for tonight. It’s a stunning number that hovers just above the floor, the corset laced firmly yet not uncomfortably, supporting your bust without breathing your back. 

Sharply dressed waiters and waitresses wove through the thinning crowds as the guests spread to different areas of the room, carrying platters of hors d’oeurvres and flutes of golden pink champagne.

You plucked one of the slender glasses as one passed by, giving the waiter a kind smile and a thankful nod. Goddess only knew you couldn’t make it through the night sober. You lifted it to your lips, wincing ever so slightly as the cool taste doused your tongue and slid down your throat, the alcohol melting into a slight, sanguine burn. 

The vibration between your legs spiked at that very moment, causing you to gasp and splutter. Your grip on your glass tightened, the back of your throat itching as you worked the liquid down the correct pipe. 

Several passerby jolted at your sudden fit, causing your cheeks to grow warm. 

“I’m fine,” you assured them with a strained smile.

“Are you sure?” At your side, Stephanivien cooed. He looked to you tenderly, sympathetically. His lips curled into a concerned frown. He played the role of the caring spouse to a picture perfect level, from his dewey sweet tone of voice to the strikingly genuine expression he sported. The large hand on your back brought you close, leaving merely an ilm between you… but it also allowed you to see the mischievous glint in his eyes. The smug bastard was shameless, and the need to retaliate in some way gripped you so thoroughly that your jaw clenched.

“One-hundred percent,” you gritted out. One of your gloved hands perched on his upper arm, giving a squeeze. What could be taken as a reassuring squeeze soon turned into a vice-like grip that had him reeling in place, eyes widening as you held him tighter—a silent threat. His partner or not, you were still the Warrior of Light and you could still kick his ass six ways to Sunday. He paled considerably and nodded.

“...So glad to hear that, my dear. Shall we head closer to the dancefloor? I think I see my father entangled in deep conversation with count Fortemps,” he inquired, motioning in the direction of the aforementioned individuals with his shoulder. The sight of Edmont was a welcome one, but speaking to anyone whilst this damned toy is busy tormenting you sounded like a terrible idea. It was practically asking to be humiliated. 

“And let you make me look a fool in front of my adoptive father and future father-in-law?” you inquire, making sure to sound as incredulous as possible. “I think not, Stephanivien!”

 “I think it would help my father grow accustomed to the idea of you as my wife if he were to see you at one of our formal events.” Stephanivien coaxed, gently nudging you with his shoulder. “Taking part in Ishgardian tradition is a sure way to secure a stronger bond with him. And maybe it would help the both of you get along better. If I remember correctly, you described him as ‘stuck in his ways’?”

You gave an exasperated sigh, leaning into his side. As much as you hated to risk it, you had to admit Stephanivien was correct. There wasn’t anything his father could do to separate the two of you, but having his blessing would make the relationship easier. Ishgardians, despite the way their culture preached modesty, were unabashedly nosy when it came to their family members and said family members’ love lives.

Getting close to his father would make the process of courting seem less taboo. The man had already struggled with accepting you, a foreigner, as a proper bride for his son. If there was to be an official wedding in the coming days, having the current count’s approval was key.

“Alright,” you acquiesce (as though you could ever refuse him in the first place). Before he could take the initiative, you pointedly grasp his hand and lead him in the direction of the two. “Come along, then.” They chatter busily near one of the many buffet tables, both wearing relaxed expressions, a good sign at the very least. House Fortemps and Haillenarte have always been close, so you’ve been counting on Edmont putting in a good word for you.

Edmont greeted you with a wide, welcoming smile—the kind that made you feel like you belonged.

The conversation lasts no more than five minutes before the bastard subtly raises the intensity of the toy. You gasp mid-sentence, barely managing to cover your ass with a half-hearted excuse before you scurry towards the refreshment table, readying a slew of insults to sling Stephanivien’s way as soon as the two of you reach private quarters. 

He follows you seamlessly. A few of the noble folk recognize and greet him, whilst others have certainly noticed your presence and make haste in your direction. It’s not everyday you make yourself available to Ishgard’s upper class (with the exception of the Fortemps), so the party’s other attendants are more than likely to interact with you whilst they can. The very idea of entertaining the uppity rich folk nearly sends a rickety shiver down your spine.

Still, you do your best to make a good impression. The steady buzz between your legs only climbs in severity and to your relief, Stephanivien steps in sooner rather than later. He must have noticed your growing fatigue. When he steps forward to brush away the enthusiastic trio of bouncy noblewomen who have done nothing but cling and fawn over you for the past fifteen minutes, he sends you a knowing and apologetic look.

“My deepest apologies, ladies, but I promised the Warrior a dance and I must deliver it to her. I’m sure you understand,” he says with a teasing smile. The women giggle as they bustle away, doubtlessly eager to gossip about the relationship between yourself and the Haillenarte heir.

The vibrant chandelier light catches on his blond locks. His head is absent of his trademark bandana and goggles, hair done in an elegant braid. 

“Couldn’t have stepped in sooner?” you jibe at him a little bit, reaching up and tugging lightly on the aforementioned length of hair. He winches, but you hold no sympathy for him. He’s earned it, after the hell he’s put you through.

“Why? You seemed to be enjoying yourself… and if you’re going to be living here, then you’ll need to grow accustomed to the people,” he says, a palm pressing to the small of your back. He leads you seamlessly through the crowd, heading at last for the exit. You’ve only been here for a little more than an hour, but you’re already exhausted. You only have so much energy to spend talking to the rich and privileged before your brain starts giving out on itself. 

“Regardless, I’m proud of you for lasting as long as you did,” he admits with a small laugh, “Even I grow weary of all the posturing and negotiating and gossiping. The nobility lacks most of the problems that plague the lower class, so they invent their own. Lady Dzemael has been fitting about her supposedly stolen croquettes as of late.”

“I suppose the impending threat of a dragon attack was second to that on her list of concerns,” you remark wryly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the melodrama.

The ballroom, in all its incredible extravagance, disappears behind you. Stephanivien continues to idly banter with you, distracting you from both conversations held inside the ballroom and the toy incessantly teasing your pussy.

The orchestra becomes vague background noise as you head down the winding corridors, too focused on the lone task of returning to the Haillenarte manor to pay much attention to your surroundings. Your panties are near soaked through, cunt throbbing around the intrusive toy nestled inside.

You tense and rub your thighs together every chance you get. If he notices, he does not say anything.

-

Your little secret makes you feel giddy as you scurry down the hallowed halls of the mansion, pressed against him, as close as you can get. His hand is perched on the small of your back, his voice jovial as he shepherds you to his room with tantamount urgency. None of the staff dare interrupt your rushed journey, all likely knowing what you’re about to do. Normally you might muster up some sense of sheepishness, but you’re too hot and bothered now.

Only when the door of his room shuts behind you are you able to feel at ease. A weight lifts off your shoulders… as do the straps of your dress. 

“Eager, are we?” Stephanivien inquires with no small amount of smugness, as though he isn’t also feverishly disrobing. He has an easier time of it. No zippers to fiddle with, no corsets to unlace. 

“Again, that’s your fault,” you accuse with no venom in your voice, beginning to shimmy out of your formal attire. The dress, as lovely and comfortable as it is, has got to go… though you’ll most likely need his help to untie it.

“As humorous as it is to watch you wiggle around like a mermaid on land, I must offer you my humble assistance. It is the least I can do after all I have put you through, tonight,” he offers. When you glance back at him again, he’s disrobed down to his boxers. His suit and pants have been haphazardly tossed to the side of the room. He’s seated on the edge of the mattress, looking up to you with imploring eyes. His arms are open, elbows resting on his knees.

“It really is the very least you can do,” you remark. Even while sitting, he’s your same height, if not a tad taller. It’s enough to send a flush of heat to your already aching cunt. 

You go quiet as you shimmy over to him. As soon as you’re able to, you rest your hands upon his shoulders and make a small jump to stand in between his legs, using him as a baseboard. The force of you pushing down on him makes him give a small ‘oof’, but he’s otherwise unbothered, too large and well-muscled to be bothered by someone of your size. 

His countless hours at the workshop have served him well. There’s definition to his shoulders and arms, to his abdomen that might lead you to believe he’s been training on the side. Your absentminded gaze reaches it to the v of his hips before he grabs you by your own and abruptly turns you around.

The suddenness makes you squawk.

“Hush. You will have plenty of time to ogle me in just a few moments, I assure you,” Stephanivien says. His nimble fingers dance up and down the back of your dress, expertly untying and unlacing the top garment with practiced dexterity. Mere moments later, it crumples to the polished wooden floor at your feet.

Unabashedly, suddenly, he manhandles you to face him again. You prepare another teasing barb to throw his way, but the words fall from your tongue the moment you see his face. He looks to you with unspoken ardence, a worshipful admiration decidedly different from the way anyone else has seen you with. It quiets and humbles you, to the point where you don’t speak even as he hooks his thumbs underneath the sides of your panties.

“Utterly divine, my love,” he coos. He pulls you forward by your hips, gaze slowly traversing down your body. He starts at your chest, admiring the curve of your bust before reaching your stomach. It’s as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, leaving you feeling more exposed and overanalysed than ever… and that’s before he pauses as he reaches your sodden panties. His head ducks, his lips curled into a torrid smirk. His left hand releases your hip and slides across your thigh, long fingers reaching up to caress a single stripe down your still clothes cunt, gently jostling the toy.

The sudden movement inside your already oversensitive cunt makes you jump and gasp, fingers curling tight around his broad shoulders. The shock is instantly replaced with irritation borne of his insufferable teasing.

“Gods, just fuck me already,” you grumble, thoroughly vexed by his sluggish examination.

“Forgive me,” he beseeches, eyes glimmering with untold mischief. “I was so taken by your beauty that I lost myself for a moment. Will you indulge me for the final time tonight, my love?”

“Depends. You’re already on thin ice,” you reply, tilting your head to the side. The hand that teased your cunt navigates around your body, his palm settling over one of your cheeks. His long fingers span over it entirely, giving you a loving squeeze. Your eyes screw shut as you hold in a moan, your cheeks growing even hotter as you realize what he’s asking of you. 

“As rapturous as you are from the front, I believe I can get a better grasp of the toy’s overall performance from the back? Are you feeling up to that, tonight?” The low buzzing in between your thighs is deriving you to the point of incoherence. In the midst of your frustration, you agree with a wordless nod.

“As long as you hurry up and fuck me already,” you try to put extra bite in your words, but any and all threat in your tone is dulled by your currently nude state. 

“Splendid.” Those long fingers tap against your hip, and he gently urges you to the side. “On the bed, my dear. The sooner you get into position, the sooner I can give you what you want.”

You need no further encouragement to scramble atop the blankets, coming to rest upon your hands and knees, sopping cunt and ass presented for his use. A brief sequence of noises behind you, namely the sound of a drawer opening and shutting, let you know he’s suspiciously prepared for this. 

“Lovely. You’re doing so well for me.” There’s jolly humor in his voice and it nearly makes you roll your eyes. He makes quick work of your panties, sliding them down your thighs until they rest in the crook of your knees. Slicked, chilled fingers lightly work their way to your bottom hole, your voice choking around a gasp as he teases it. The toy still buzzes eagerly between your legs, even the slightest bit of stimulation enough to make you push back into his touch. 

“Fuck,” you curse, face pressed to the sheets as he works a single, nimble digit inside of you, working you open. The series of gentle thrusts in and out make you begin to melt, body desperate for any attention he’ll give it. You relax for him, you loosen, gasping and whining, melting into little more than a puddle beneath him. The slicked lubricant chills against your exposed skin, sending goosebumps sprawling over your legs. 

You pay it no mind as you work a hand underneath you, beginning to tease your clit with practiced strokes. Your growing noises of pleasure pitch higher and higher… and then turn into grievous whines as he pulls his fingers away.

“Hush,” Stephanivien soothes, lips brushing the back of your neck. He adorns your unmarked flesh with kisses and nips, occasionally stopping to suck a deeper mark. “I’ll give you what you so desperately crave, I promise. Just be patient. Intricate processes like these require proper preparation.”

The hot press of his cock makes a sudden breath rattle harshly from your lungs as he nears your twitching hole. The tip presses gently to it, beginning a slow slide inside. His fingers are long and practiced, but his cock is decidedly girthier. You don’t realize you’re shaking until he begins to murmur sweet nothings to you, a warm hand stroking up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. The sudden nerves settle gradually, every muscle relaxing around him as he pushes deeper, deeper until his pelvis presses firm against your ass. 

“You are a wonder,” he says into your hair, his shaking voice betraying his rattled composure. Even the scion of an Ishgardian noble house cannot remain unflinching in the throes of pleasure. The thought somehow soothes you as he pulls back… and thrusts in again. The pace he sets is slow and measured, yet deep and thorough. It’s the kind of mind-melting measure that frustrates and defeats you, the kind that makes your fingers tremble on your clit as you struggle to cling to coherent thought. 

The constant, unrelenting pressure he applies is enough to keep you pinned entirely to the sheets. 

“You’re excellent,” he moans and growls his praise, voice muffled against your shoulder. His words are spaced between frantic, wet kisses. “Truly. Taking me so well after all you’ve been through, tonight. Can you cum for me, darling? I think you can. I know so.”

The raw satisfaction the praise pushes through your worn mind is somehow enough to undo the coil between your legs that’s been wound so tight. The constant teasing has had you dangling on the precipice from the very start, so it should be no surprise when you finally cum, howling your bliss into the sheets as your body jerks and writhes. The toy relentlessly vibrates through it, devastating your plush walls until you at last reach to wrench it out. 

Your entire body shakes as he fucks you throughout, pushing you so far into bliss that you begin to squirm away. His fingers curl tight around your hips, pulling you tight to him. His rhythm falters and his words fail him. You only realize these tell-tale signs of his approaching orgasm moments before it crashes into him. His hips still as he spills inside you. His teeth find purchase on your shoulder as he bites, sucking a brutal mark onto the blank patch of skin.

The blankets pull and nearly tear as you grip them, shaking like a leaf in his grasp. The strength has been all but sapped from your body by the physical and emotional strain of the night. Who knew talking to so many of Ishgard’s most powerful people could exhaust you so much? In the stillness and clarity of your post-orgasm, you can’t help but feel immensely grateful that you’re not in that stuffy ballroom, anymore.

“Forgive me,” Stephanivien says against your shoulder. His soft lips press up against the spot he had just bitten, and his grip on you loosens. There will be bruises where he held you tomorrow, but you can’t find it in yourself to be upset about that. Knowing that proof of tonight will still linger beyond this encounter is satisfying in a strange and animal way. “I was too… ahem, drawn into the moment. I should not have been so brusque with you.”

“No, it’s alright.” Your voice is hoarse as you assure him. “It was good. Really nice.” You grasp for more sophisticated words, but your head throbs the moment you do.  

What you will have to do is see how obvious the hickies he left are going to be. As proud as you are to be involved with him, you can’t waltz into your workplace looking like you’ve just been near choked to death. Heavens could only imagine the way Tataru would tease and badger you for the dirty details. Not to mention Stephanivien’s father… though you’re quite sure he already knows the details of your relationship with his son. 

Being the Warrior of Light has its perks, one of which being that not even the staunchly traditional nobility of Ishgard can take issue with you marrying one of their own. Not after all you’ve done for them.

“Ah. Full glad am I to hear that, my dear.” He raises from his close position, gently shifting you to lay on your back. The toy lays abandoned only a few ilms away, and you wince at the sight of it coated in your juices. He’ll be the one to clean that up, you decide. It’s the least he can do after all of tonight’s shenanigans. His little invention causes you more trouble than you surely deserved. He reaps what he sows, as far as you are concerned.

You allow yourself brief smugness, knowing he’ll be helpless to refuse. For as dominant as he can be, there’s very little he will deny you. Whilst you strive to not take advantage of that good nature, there are times where you think it’s only appropriate to seize what you’ve so painstakingly earned.

Perhaps you should take a shower, you muse to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. The warmth of the afterglow settles over your tired body. The day’s anxieties are done and over with, put behind you. There are no balls to dread attending, no high social interaction for you to worry about. Perhaps you should have something to drink, too. It wouldn’t do for you to go to bed dehydrated—

Something hard and hot presses ever so gently against the outer lips of your cunt, causing your gaze to snap downwards. Stephanivien at least has the good sense to look sheepish after his unabashed ravishing of you, his lips curled in a decidedly boyish smile. His cock, however, is not nearly as shy. 

“What.” You say, doubtlessly looking as incredulous as you feel.

“I cannot help my hopeless attraction to you, my dear. I think you should know that by now,” he wheedles, batting his eyelashes. “You’re up for another round, aren’t you? The night is only so young, as are we, and we should enjoy ourselves while we have the chance—”

Your face warms as his gaze roves up and down your body, worshipful and lustful all at the same time. Whilst he rants about the finer details of your physical form and soul, those large palms and long fingers come to cup your hips, thumbs rolling slow circles into your cooling skin. Like this, both bared to each other, you’re hard pressed to say no. The simplest of touches sends another spark through you, your already overstimulated cunt throbbing. 

He’s impossible to resist. Utterly, irritatingly impossible. 

So, you make a show of throwing your head back and sighing, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“If we must,” you say, but the upturned curl to your lips betrays you.

“What would I ever do without you?” he says. Those clever hands have already drawn you closer, the tip of his girthy cock kissing your entrance. You’re already plenty slick from the toy’s… loving ministrations. He slides inside easily, yet slowly, still careful to give you time to properly adjust. The toy’s size pales in comparison to his, but the preparation and lubrication are more than enough. You keen as he presses close, hips canting in a desperate attempt for more of that blessed, sanguine contact. “So receptive, as well.” 

Your back arches, your eyes flutter shut as your walls clench and loosen around him. He presses up against every special little spot, touches everywhere you want him. His very presence is toe-curling, mind-melting in a way you have trouble describing. 

“With an attitude like that, we’ll put an heir in you yet.” he teases, voice lapsing into a playful little lilt. “Would you like that, my dear? Would you like to be bred and round with child?” His jesting tone of voice is at odds with the fire that gleams openly in his gaze. A million thoughts and possibilities seize you at once.

Your answer is lost in a jumbled gasp as he sets a faster, rougher pace. You are sent mindless into a sea of bliss, wave after wave knocking the breath and coherency out of you.

The very idea of his proposal, however, sends a very raw abet confusing wave of heat straight down to your cunt. The logical part of you halts completely at the suggestion, any rational thought shut down by the swift gyration of his hips. Your hands grip the sheets for dear life. Your walls clench around him. Your eyes squeeze shut. 

This will be a long night.

[funkyhanji]

Nuvole Bianche [English | BNHA]

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia (@Horikoshi Kohei) Character(s): Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Pairing(s): BakuDeku Rating: E Word count: 3298 CWs: Fantasy AU, Established Relationship, Snowed In, Fluff and Smut, Sex, Quirks as Magic, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Barebacking, Dorks in Love, Bottom Izuku

Summary: - «Can't help it, Deku,» Katsuki says. There's the hint of a teasing tone in his voice, as if to prove the statement. «You're stupidly cute.» His spouse-to-be blushes yet his lips give way to the small grin he'd been fighting back. «… And you're stupidly handsome, Kacchan,» he whispers like it's a secret he's kept hidden all this time. -

Katsuki wills a shiver down as he steps past the cave's open entrance, tracking snow at his heels. The magic barrier they put up is thankfully holding steady to keep the cold outside; it's a flimsy solace though. His boots, socks and heavy breeches are completely soaked through; his double wool-lined, crimson cloak drags at his shoulders with the added weight of melting water. His hair sags, the blond spikes limp and frosted over.

He fucking hates winter.

He throws a glare at the inky darkness that's crept upon the mountainside in the last hour; it's barely sunset, technically, but it might as well be the dead of night already with how pitch black the world outside is. If only the weather hadn't gotten so bad so quickly, they would've been home by now. In front of a nice hearth — but alas, after so many months away from Musutafu, it seems Katsuki had forgotten how swiftly a cold but pleasant winter day could turn into a nightmarish snowstorm.

Why did we even decide to come up here?! Katsuki gripes internally, fumbling to take off his frozen leather gloves with numb hands. Right. To get away from annoying people.

He shouldn't have sent Zero up ahead to the castle in favor of hiking back down the mountain by foot. He sighs, curses as his grip on the gloves slips. Then again, the cave isn't big enough for a full grown dragon and two people, so maybe it's better this way.

A faint giggle reaches his ears, compelling Katsuki to look up and pause his struggle.

Green eyes, bright with flames gently dancing in their depths, meet his from across the stone floor. Izuku's covering his mouth with his fist, but Katsuki knows he's smiling by the way his cheeks are raised. The smattering of freckles decorating Izuku's face appear and disappear with the flickering of the fire, almost as if they're playing hide and seek — they'd never win: Katsuki has memorized each and every one —.

«How's it looking out there, Kacchan?» Izuku asks, lowering his hand so Katsuki can see the curve of his lips. He waves Katsuki over; a silent offer to help him remove his uncomfortable gear. «The wind is really strong. I can hear it through the barrier...»

Katsuki scoffs. «No shit,» he says, nearing the fire. «A gust of that motherfucking wind almost threw me off the cliff-side.» Izuku gasps, immediately launching into a worried rant; wide-eyed stare flying over Katsuki's form for any possible injury. «'M fine, Deku. Takes more than this to do me in.»

«Oh, I know, Kacchan,» Izuku laughs, at ease when Katsuki smirks his way.

Katsuki takes a seat next to Izuku, their shoulders and knees brushing as they stare into the flames in silence for a heartbeat. Then Izuku shifts, reaching out to take a hold of his hands and carefully pulling on the iced-over gloves. Katsuki turns to face him, letting the other slip the leather off one finger at a time, ever-so mindful of not using too much strength, as though Katsuki would care if he ripped the gloves.

«Whatever,» he mutters under his breath. He doesn't miss the grin on Izuku's face at that. «And the snow blocked the pass, so we're stuck in here 'till tomorrow anyway.»

«That's too bad.» Izuku looks up at him after removing the gloves and placing them near the fire to defrost. «Everyone was so excited about the pre-wedding feast! We're going to miss it...»

«That was the whole point of hiking the mountain, Deku.»

«Oh, come on, Kacchan! They're here for us, you know…!»

Katsuki rolls his eyes, idly rubbing his stiff hands together to rid them of the chill. «Doesn't mean I have to suffer through it-» he flexes his fingers, cringing when his knuckles pop with a loud crack- «not tonight at least. Tomorrow I'll have no goddamn choice.»

Wordlessly, Izuku grasps his left hand in his. He caresses his thumbs along the cold skin, slow and meticulous. He kneads the pads of his fingers into Katsuki's palm, then moves to Katsuki's own digits, massaging them from knuckle to nail; he does it once, twice, three times, over and over, until the numbness is replaced by pins and needles. Until feeling returns and Katsuki's hand is warm again. Izuku repeats the same process with his right hand.

«How's that? Better?» Izuku asks with a smile which looks even softer than usual. It makes Katsuki's heart speed up.

With the regained sensitivity, Katsuki switches now to grasp the wrist of his consort-to-be, tugging him forward. The surprised sound Izuku makes is cut off as their mouths meet in a kiss; the touch is firm but chaste, purely motivated by a simple need, a subconscious call resonating deep within Katsuki's bones telling him to be closer to Izuku. He feels a hand glide up his other arm, up, up to his neck and his jaw before it buries itself into his hair.

Or tries to.

Green eyes blink open, and in the next second Izuku's pulling back with a crease between his brows. His hand flexes a little, where it rests near Katsuki's ear, and a faint crunching can be heard coming from the hair.

«Storm froze it,» Katsuki supplies with a shrug.

«Oh...»

Izuku takes a better look at him then.

Katsuki can see that attentive gaze picking up on the slight tremble in his frame; the hunch to his shoulders and the way he's leaning toward the fire more than he would usually do — with Katsuki's temperature always running higher than most people's due to his fire-related magic, he's not one to crowd in front of direct heat sources —. He can see the furrow deepen when shining emeralds take notice of the layer of frost whitening and weighing down his clothes.

«Oh, Kacchan, sorry!» Izuku says, now concerned. Katsuki's about to retort that he's fine, but the other keeps going. «You walked around in the snow longer than me, you must be freezing! And here I was, warming up in front of the fire…! I should've went with you after all... we need to, ah, get you out of these icy clothes! Yeah!»

Izuku is fussing over Katsuki as soon as he stops talking.

He makes quick work of taking off the soaked boots and socks, placing them behind him in front of the fire pit. He hovers in Katsuki's personal space, un-clasping his cloak and sliding it off, casting a spell to have it float near the flames to dry — it's a simple incantation he'd been taught by his friend, Ochako, a gravity-specialized mage —. Izuku's scarred hands move from Katsuki's shoulders to his arms, struggling to tug the stiff leather braces down. He almost falls back on his ass when the first one dislodges from his elbow; the squeak he makes too endearing for Katsuki to repress a chuckle.

«Mean,» Izuku mutters, retaking his previous position just within the circle of Katsuki's legs.

There's a wee frown wrinkling his dark green eyebrows.

Katsuki lets Izuku take off his heavy woolen shirt, complying to the silent request to lift his arms. He waits for the other to lay it down on the stone next to the boots; he waits for Izuku to face him again. He's stubbornly trying to keep up his upset demeanor, but it's obvious he's failing from the twitch in the corner of his mouth.

«Can't help it, Deku,» Katsuki says. There's the hint of a teasing tone in his voice, as if to prove the statement. «You're stupidly cute.»

His spouse-to-be blushes yet his lips give way to the small grin he'd been fighting back. «… And you're stupidly handsome, Kacchan,» he whispers like it's a secret he's kept hidden all this time.

Katsuki finds warmth creeping onto his ears and high cheekbones. He's by no means unused to such compliments — he's been showered in praise since a young age, whether he worked hard to deserve it or not —, though he's discovered, with the passing of the years, that receiving them from Izuku never stopped his stomach from somersaulting.

He wonders if the Paladin-in-training is aware of the effect he has on him.

Izuku's palm comes to rest on his chest, above his heart, and Katsuki thinks, maybe he does know.

There's a certain reverence in the way Izuku brushes his hand over his skin, in the way he leans forward to place a kiss in that same spot. Soft, gentle. Katsuki pretends for a moment that the shiver running up his spine is the cold seeped into his limbs from his soaked clothes.

He blinks, and it feels like he's five again.

The first time he lay eyes on Izuku, his whole world had tilted on its axis the second those forest-green irises met his, full of wonder and awe. Katsuki remembers the wide-eyed stare and the cautious steps the shorter boy had taken, getting closer to him with a trembling hand extended toward his newly-pierced ears.

«Do they hurt…?» Izuku had asked, not quite touching him but hovering near one of the ruby studs.

Katsuki had been taken aback by the ethereal beauty of the creature before him; had been rendered speechless, forgetting every lecture on etiquette his parents had been trying to drill into his skull.

He'd shaken his head, grumbling. «Of course not, stupid! I'm the future King, this 's nothin'!»

Izuku had «oooh»ed and smiled, bright and full of admiration. «You're really amazing!» he'd said, cheeks flushed. «I'm Izuku! My mom and I will be living here from now on, I hope we'll be friends!»

Katsuki blinks again, coming back to the present to Izuku moving to press a peck a little higher—his green curls tickling Katsuki's chin—and higher still, one over his jaw, one below his ear.

«Kacchan,» he whispers, no more than a breath exhaled by unconscious reflex. «Kacchan.»

He doesn't have to repeat it a third time.

Katsuki's cups Izuku's face in his hands, brushes their noses together, their lips. The contact is lighter than before yet the sparks it creates are stronger, the intent behind it clear. He bridges the non-existent gap a second time, their mouths parting at the same time; tongues sliding together, slow and passionate, the kiss gaining a more intense quality.

The heat between them gradually growing with it.

Katsuki's free arm wraps around Izuku's waist, bringing him flush to his body. His palm skims the warm skin under his consort-to-be's shirt, settling at the hip and starting up a leisurely rocking. Izuku gasps into his mouth, a short moan breathed in and licked up by Katsuki's tongue. Green eyes crack open a slit to stare into crimson ones, the embers of desire coming to life inside both of them.

«Deku,» Katsuki grunts, husky and hungry.

Izuku racks his blunt nails over his nipples, breaking the kiss to bow his head and run his tongue over them, one at a time; he nips and suckles at them, teases the hardened nubs with his teeth. Izuku spurs himself on with his own whines. His hands squeeze and grope Katsuki's biceps, his shoulders, his nape; they successfully bury in blond hair. Izuku's neck bares for Katsuki — a clear invite to claim —, his jugular jumping with the wild rhythm of his heartbeat under Katsuki's kiss-swollen lips. Izuku's sighs reverberating deep within his bones as Katsuki licks a wet strip up the unblemished skin to his ears.

Izuku's hips jerk sharply when he bites the lobe, the movement slotting their erections together just right, both groaning at the friction. The flimsy barrier of their undergarments and breeches doing little to hide the growing need between them.

«Wanna fuck you so bad, Deku,» Katsuki says, voice gravely and fingers digging into the meat of his consort-to-be's rear. He knows they can't; not right now, without the necessary equipment. It doesn't stop him from craving though. «Wanna feel you around my cock.»

«Yes, Kacchan,» Izuku answers. He arches against his broader chest, his scarred hands quiver slightly as they snake down Katsuki's stomach, fumbling blindingly to undo the belt and string of the damp cotton bottoms. «Please.»

Katsuki's about to tell him it won't be doable tonight, then he notices Izuku gesturing vaguely, feels the faint hum of his innate magic at work. From the corner of his vision, he sees a small terracotta vase teetering in the air toward them. A blond eyebrow quirks in question; his stare lifts from where he's been busy playfully gnawing at a collarbone, until it meets Izuku's blushing face and hazy eyes.

He laughs, delighted and cocky.

«Someone was expecting something ta happen tonight, mh?» he teases, slapping an ass-cheek and enjoying the squeak he gets in return. «Didn't look too sad to be snowed-in-» he snatches the pot before Izuku's control slips and makes it crash on the stone floor- «this why?»

Izuku mumbles, embarrassed and unintelligible.

«Hey, I'm not complaining Deku,» Katsuki reassures, planting a chaste kiss on the other's pouting lips.

«Kacchan, please...»

«Yeah...»

Together, they shift, raising on their knees so both Katsuki's breeches and Izuku's shirt can be discarded. Katsuki then guides Izuku backward, to lay onto the dried, forgotten, forest-green cape — a match to his own crimson one, the Bakugou family crest emblazoned on it in gold; a gift he'd given the other two years prior, when he'd officially proposed to him —. He takes care to cushion Izuku's head against the fur collar and crawls into his space.

He kisses him again, tongue slipping past willing lips to wetly glide alongside Izuku's own. Katsuki moves down the pliant body beneath him, nipping and sucking marks into creamy skin dotted with dark chocolate-brown freckles; tugging and flicking dusky-pink nipples.

Izuku's undergarments are slipped off with deft fingers while Katsuki distracts him with his mouth, blowing raspberries into his stomach and grinning as his breathless pants turn into breathless laughter. A shiver runs up Izuku's spine as the colder air hits his heated skin, and Katsuki's warm hands are there to chase it away. He smooths his palms down along toned legs as far as he can reach without moving from his spot, kneads his fingers into Izuku's thighs and sides, and up his torso.

Only when the bewitching body underneath him is quaking in need, does Katsuki finally pay attention to Izuku's cock. He's hard, flushed an inviting shade of dark pink and already leaking.

«Ya look delicious Deku,» he says, smirking as he lowers himself to lewdly lick a strip of saliva over the underside of Izuku's cock. One hand around the base, the other cupping his balls gently.

«Ka— Kacch… aahn…!»

Katsuki hums, lips enclosing the head, the tip of his tongue pressing into the slit and under the foreskin. He sucks lightly, pleased to hear the choked off gasp from Izuku. Katsuki swallows him down painstakingly slow, with almost-lazy bobs of his head and flicks of his tongue, barely-there strokes and caresses with his hands — he loves torturing the other like this, the sounds he can pry out of Izuku music to his ears —. He loves feeling him squirm and cry out.

Katsuki pulls off to take a breath, snatching the vase with the lotion in the meantime, popping the cork off and settling it next to them.

«H-hurry, Kacchan…» Izuku says, staring up at him with glazed eyes, the green overshadowed by dilated pupils.

Katsuki huffs, pretending to be irritated. «Impatient, are we?» He can't blame him though, his own dick is stiff and throbbing in his undergarments, longing to feel the other's heat surround him.

He dips two fingers into the pot; the transparent, viscous lotion coats his hand when he takes them out and spreads it over his palm. Soon after, he's teasing a circle around Izuku's entrance with a slick finger. Izuku whines, writhing on the cape as he tries to make the digit slip inside; when it does, he sighs such a delighted «yesss», it resounds even inside Katsuki's chest.

«Fuck, Izuku...» he groans, leaning in to sloppily kiss him while he works his finger deeper. «'S been a while, huh.»

«Yeah… ah!» Izuku nods, his hips rocking onto the hand between his thighs.

The wedding preparations have kept them both busy for the better part of last month — the constant ebb and flow of people coming in, to teach Izuku to dance; to choose decorations and food and music. Court meetings for foreign dignitaries, training —, leaving too little time and energy to enjoy their hard-earned intimacy with nothing but cuddling and simply sleeping together.

This snowstorm has been a nice opportunity to… catch up on that.

Katsuki is as quick yet thorough as he dares. Neither of them wants to cum without being connected, but they're also coiled too tight after so long; this round isn't going to last.

He's scissoring and spreading and curling three fingers inside Izuku for what feels like hours, rubbing grounding circles on his hip with his free hand. He kisses, sucks and nips at the expanse of skin at his disposal to add sensations at odd times. He brings Izuku to a dry orgasm; he's sobbing and quaking, straining to stroke his dripping cock but Katsuki restrains his wrists with his hand.

Only then does he take out his fingers.

«Ah… haa, Ka… Kacchan— shit, please— need you in-inside...»

Katsuki's answer is a low groan. His undergarments are tossed to the side hastily; he slicks up his cock, lotion mixing with his copious precum, and lines up to Izuku's ass. He drapes the other's legs around his waist, Izuku understanding the implicit prompt to link his ankles behind his back.

Katsuki pushes in, the glide easy and painless after the generous preparation and the slackness from Izuku's previous orgasm. He bottoms out with a rasping breath, his nerves aflame.

«F-fuck,» he stutters, biting his lower lip and scrunching eyes closed in concentration. «Won't last… long, De-Deku… Fuck— ya feel so good...»

«Y-you t-too Ka— nnh!— Kacchan!»

«Shit— 'm movin'...»

Katsuki takes a breath, bracing himself as he pulls out halfway before pressing back in. The pace he sets is swift; thrusts inelegant but precise, the angle good enough for him to brush Izuku's sweet spot just right. His hips snap back and forth. Izuku arches under him, meets his thrusts with his own wild ones, bucking onto the cock pounding into him with shudders and moans and calls of Katsuki's name.

The wet slap of skin on skin is loud and lewd, a perfect counterpoint to their mingled sounds and the crackling of the fire.

«S-shit— Izu… ku— nngh!»

Katsuki's movements falter. He throws his head back with a groan, eyes squeezed tight as he buries himself deep inside Izuku, filling him up spurt after spurt. In the haze of his climax, Katsuki languidly strokes Izuku to orgasm. He grins smugly through the rush of endorphin when the other cums without even trying to take matters into his own hand.

«Kacchan...» Izuku says a minute later, breath almost back to normal and snuggled into Katsuki's chest.

«Mmh?»

«You were really pent up, a lot came out… how am I going to clean up? We don't have enough water for a bath and-and you know it gets, uhm, uncomfortable to have se-semen up there for too long so— waah!»

Katsuki cuts him off by abruptly flipping him over, hands grabbing Izuku's sides and bending down to bite at a round ass cheek.

«I'll just eat my cum and your ass out then.»

«Wha— Kacchan, no! Wait a— ah!— Kacch… oh! Oh!»

Katsuki laughs a little meanly. «You're gonna walk up the throne room and get married with a fucking limp tomorrow, Deku— 'm gonna fuck you so good.»

[btsslowburnfic]

BTBY Chapter 7

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that." Chapter Summary It's award show night! Also, your secret comes out.

  Previous Chapter found here

The group gathers around and watches their red carpet interviews which they react to with a mix of pride and cringe at different moments. The BTS production team shoots footage of them doing this and getting their hair and make-up done and then stops rolling. You are still scrolling through your phone over on the end of the styling counter when you hear the door open and close and a voice cut through the air.

“What the fuck [Y/N]?” You know who it is but you are absolutely shocked that these words are being directed at you. You turn to see Xavier coming over towards you with a look of rage on his face. Ice runs through your veins. He has never yelled at you like this. You guys have had disagreements over the years but nothing like this. In fact no one has ever yelled at you like this before. “Did you just turn down a summer tour with Imagine Dragons?”

You sit your phone on the counter and try to swallow even though our mouth has gone completely dry. “I did. I don’t get why it’s such a big deal though. Other offers are going to come along. Calm down.” you try to get him to chill out even though he is absolutely livid.

“They’re my favorite band. Did you even look at the tour schedule? They’re actually going to Hawaii. HAWAII.” he emphasizes. You notice that everyone in the greenroom has gotten quiet and they are all trying to be polite and not stare, but it’s a small room.

“Dude. I hear that you are upset, but it’s not a big deal ok. Other bands travel. We have a show to get through tonight.”

“Why did you say ‘No’? Especially without asking ME first? Why do you think you can just make all these decisions without me!” Xavier is so angry he doesn’t even look like himself. You want to tell him why you turned it down but you don’t want to make him feel bad. This is all spiraling out of control. You take a deep breath.

“I don’t have to check with you before making a decision about who I work with, ok? Can we please just get the band we ARE working with ready for the stage and move on with our evening. Please?” you are trying to keep your calm but you are starting to shake from having your best friend scream at you at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,[Y/N]? I thought we were a team.”

Namjoon couldn’t take it anymore. Taehyung tries to keep him from getting up but he throws his hands to the side and marches up, inserting himself between you and Xavier. “The deal from that manager was for her. Only her. They didn’t want a choreographer. That’s why she turned it down. She’s trying to be a good friend to you so stop yelling at her.” his voice boomed over the room.

Xavier stood there for a moment, taking everything in. His best friend being upset, the performer he looked up to admonishing him, and then turned and realized the whole room was looking at them.

You hold your hand in front of your mouth, surprised at how the past five minutes has gone by. You are still in shock that the whole thing has happened. “RM,” you gently touch his back. He turns his head and looks down at you, “Thanks.” You move so you’re next to him, facing Xavier. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. Can we please just get back to focusing on the job we are supposed to be doing right now? Other offers will come our way for both of us. Ok?” you pat Xavier on his arm to comfort him. He’s been your best friend for five years and you’re sure this has to be super embarrassing for him.

“Yeah, ok,” he says, you can see the tears in his eyes that he’s trying to not let fall. “Just uh, give me a minute, yeah? Excuse me,” he says more to RM than you and he exits the green room.

You are still shaking a little. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Hey” you hear Namjoon’s deep voice quietly behind you and feel him gently touch your shoulder. It suddenly feels like your entire body is being wrapped in a giant warm blanket. “Are you ok?”

You turn towards his voice. “Not really.” you sigh deeply. “But, we have a show to put on and I hear you guys are supposed to win tonight. So let’s put this stupid shit behind us and move on with the evening.” you plaster a smile on your face and gently shake his hand off you. “Thanks again. I do appreciate it. Can you please apologize to the group? This whole thing is so embarrassing.”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go take a walk?”

You avoid eye contact with the rest of the room as you head out towards the hallway. You decide to go sneak a peek at whoever is rehearsing right now. You’re glad your group went earlier in the day. Still, it was the least they could do since they had fucked up your rehearsal times yesterday.

To your surprise you turn to see JHope standing to your left. “Holy shit!” you yell. He scared you. He shrieks back at you and then laughs. “Sorry,” he holds up his hands.

“JHope. Need anything?” you smile at him.

He looks at you thoughtfully. “Just one thing.” he says and before you can even guess or ask what it might be, he grabs your arm and pushes up your dress sleeve, to look at the glowing mark on your wrist. You instinctively pull it back and up to your chest. He smiles at you and raises his eyebrows. “Yep.” He turns and walks back towards the green room. That little shit.

Tonight is not going how you planned it. These past 2 days are not going how you planned. And while it was nice that RM stood up for you back there you can’t help but wonder why. Probably because he was the leader of the group and things were getting out of hand. You think back to his hand on your shoulder and the way he stood up for you and feel tingly. Nope. Nope! You shake your head as though you can physically get the thoughts out of your head. Ugh. You really need to find Xavier to check on him. ----------- JHope walks back into the greenroom with a huge smile plastered on his face. He had suspected since yesterday afternoon that something was going on and now he had confirmed it. He goes over and whispers to Taehyung who smirks at this news. They had stayed up last night talking about this possibility and were feeling very proud of their deductive reasoning skills right now.

Jimin and Jungkook were having their hair touched up at the moment while Namjoon was scrolling through his phone. Jin was on facetime with his girlfriend over in the corner, occasionally turning the phone around to show her the organized chaos of the greenroom. Her group hadn’t broken out on the international level yet

Yoongi walks over to Namjoon, “So you’re sure our choreographer and Director are coming back, right?”

Namjoon scoffed, “Of course they’ll be back. Well, [Y/N] will be. She’s a professional.” Yoongi eyes him suspiciously. They hear a knock at the door. Without [Y/N] there to liaison, the task falls to Namjoon to go answer it. He rolls his eyes a bit, can’t they just get ready for the show??? And goes to answer it.

“Yes?” he asks, a man standing at the door with a few legal size envelopes.

“Oh, sorry to bother you. Just dropping these off for [Y/N] to look over. Is she here?”

“She stepped out for a moment, I’ll take them for her,” he responds and lets the man hand him the envelopes.

“Thanks. Good luck tonight. My daughter is a huge fan,” the man says.

“We’ll do our best,” Namjoon flashes his trademark dimples, closes the door, and takes the envelopes and thoughtfully sits them down under your clutch.

He looks over to see Yoongi smiling with Taehyung and JHope like they are plotting something. Which is never a good thing for him. Why can’t this show just be over? He sits down in his chair as a make-up artist comes over and starts to do some touch ups.

You come back to the room. No luck finding Xavier so far. You shoot JHope a glare causing him to laugh and hide behind Taehyung who flashes you a boxy smile. Oh God. Do they all know? Just get through tonight. You make your way to the back of the room to your purse so you can text Xavier and Joe.

“A courier stopped by for you,” Namjoon mentions from the chair in the space next to your stuff. “I put the envelopes under your purse.”

Apparently you should hang out with him when there are crowds of people around because he’s actually nice to you then. “Great, thanks so much.” you respond while digging your phone out. “Did Xavier come back here?”

“Nope.” Namjoon responds with an edge to his voice. Now that you think of it, he probably won’t because in addition to being embarrassed, he’s probably afraid of RM. You sigh. This goddamn day. You send off some messages to him and Joe telling them if you don’t see them before the show you will meet them at your seats. In the nosebleed section. Where they keep the staff.

You feel eyes on you and you see three of the members staring at the two of you interact but trying not to stare. You don’t dare say anything to him right now with so many hair and make-up artists surrounding you. You type into your phone, “BTW JHope knows. He came up and saw my soulmark. I’m guessing he also told the others since they look like a bunch of high school girls right about now.” “Hey, can you look at something for me?” you ask him as you hand him your phone. He gives you a confused look but takes it anyway. He reads the message, looks over at your wrist which is currently covered by your long sleeves. He starts to run a hand through his hair but stops himself since it was just styled. He types something in and hands it back to you.

“How? Your wrist is covered. Also Maybe you should get some concealer. Hasn’t your boyfriend noticed?”

You roll your eyes and type “He literally walked up, pushed my sleeve out of the way, laughed at me like a schoolgirl, and left. I haven’t seen my boyfriend since this happened. In case you haven’t noticed, IVE BEEN WORKING :/ “ you thrust the phone back into his hands as you begin to tear open the envelopes.

He reads the message and then turns to glare at the three gossips who make eye contact with him and scatter. “Sorry. I literally have 6 children. Well 5. Jin takes care of himself.” he hands you your phone back and continues to scroll through his.

You look over the contents of the first envelope and smile. As predicted, these are formal bids for summer tours. And this one is for a director and a choreographer. The tour doesn’t go to Hawaii, but you can always save up and just go with Xavier and Joe for fun. You open the other two proposals and look over the salaries, hours, and cities.

“What are those?” RM asks casually.

“These are formal bids for summer tours. This awards show is kind of known for where people look for summer work, so a lot of Producers come with bid sheets. I usually only accept written bids. Mr. Salontes caught me off guard earlier because we ran into each other. I hate networking and verbal offers; It’s too much work to keep track of all the ass kissing so I just send out my resume ahead of time and receive written bids on awards night.” You put the documents back into the folder.

“Anything good?”

“Yeah. They’re all good groups. I’ll let Xavier pick. He has to work around Joe’s schedule and cares more. I just love traveling so I’ll go wherever.”

“You aren’t going to check with your boyfriend?” He raises his eyebrows. Why does he care so much about your boyfriend?

“No. Not really. I mean, I had this job when we started dating. He knows I go on tour in the summer so it’s not like it should be a surprise to him, you know? It’s my job and it’s literally my favorite part about it.” you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t suppose you have a girlfriend?” you ask.

He scoffs,” Definitely not.”

“Well if you did, would you stop touring or ask her where you were allowed to perform?”

“Definitely not.” he repeats.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I didn’t think so. It’s the same thing.” you start scrolling through your phone to see who else you know that posted they were here tonight. An alarm goes off. “Alright guys, 10 minutes. 10 minutes until you’ll be seated. At 6:45 I will come get you and you will come change and be on stage at 7:15. One of your categories is next so you won’t come back and change until after the announcement. I’m sure you will do great!”

You look in the mirror and touch up your own make-up a bit.

“So pretty,” you hear RM say under his breath as you catch him staring at you. You’re not sure if you were meant to hear it and try your best to keep your face neutral. You put your make-up bag into the company box along with your clutch and lock it up.

“Do you guys still get nervous at these things or is it just like a normal day for you?” you ask RM, relaxing with your back against the wall.

He smiles, “We definitely still get nervous. Even if we think we are going to win and even if we have performed a song hundreds of times. We want to do well for our fans and for each other.”

“Well if practice was any indication I’m sure you guys will do great.” you say as you check your watch. “5 minutes” you yell into the green room. “When do you guys fly out?”

“We’ll leave for New York tomorrow morning, stay for two days and then back to Seoul.”

“Cool cool.” you say as your small talk ability is starting to wear out.

The time has finally come and you gather the group together to escort to their seats. They randomly get distracted by saying their “hellos” to other artists but you have worked in enough time that you should still be good. You show them to their seats in the second row, left side.

You pull RM over a bit so he can hear you over the guys being all excited and taking pictures of them in front of the stage. “Ok, do not leave the seats until I come get you. The show runs over some times so don’t assume that because it’s the original time I told you that we will actually go at that time, ok? If I had to guess, we will already be ten minutes behind when I come get you and 20 minutes by your performance time.”

“Got it.” he looks over to the other guys who are goofing off and taking a bunch of selfies.

“Good luck!” you tell him as you turn to grab an earpiece from the sound booth and get to your seat.

“Hey! [Y/N]” you hear someone say to you. You turn back and it’s Jimin. “Take our picture?”

“Sure,” you respond, walking over and getting his phone. “Alright guys, together.” You take several photos as they keep switching positions every few seconds. What a bunch of pros.

“You guys make that look easy,” you say as you hand the phone back to Jimin. “Alright, see you soon!”

You start to once again make your way to the sound booth when you hear another voice calling your name, “Hey!” you look over and see Seth Ayers, another Director. He has just got his artist escorted to her seat.

“Hey!” you lean in for a polite hug. “How are you?”

“Good, good. You look nice.”

“Thanks. You too. It’s always so fun seeing everyone in their fancy clothes,” you laugh. You suddenly feel rage in the pit of your stomach. What the hell? You take a few deep breaths.

“Who’s your date tonight? Xavier?” he asks

“No, Good guess though,” you smile, “Xavier brought his boyfriend. I’m flying solo this evening.”

“Oh. Well, if you need an escort to any of the after parties just let me know.” Oh God, was Seth hitting on you!? Ughhhh. Awkward. Time to mention your boyfriend. All of a sudden you feel breathing on your neck. “Ahhh. Hey there.” you say as you turn and see RM lurking.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt. I forget, what time are you coming to get us?”

You smirk at him. Jealous. He was Jealous. “No problem. 6:45.” you turn back to Seth. “I’m not going to any after parties this year. We’re having a small gathering at the studio afterwards. Good luck tonight! It was nice to see you” you flash a smile and start walking with RM back to the front of the theater.

“You forgot what time?” you whisper.

“Yep.” he says cooly.

You roll your eyes. “Huh. Ok. Well You.” you take him by the shoulders “Stay. Staaaaay. I will be back sometime later this evening.” You jokingly move him and place him right in front of his seat. “Got it?”

“Yes, I think I understand.” he smiles. Ahhh Dimples. Staaaahp.

Will you ever get to your earpiece? Make it to your seats? There is half an hour until the show gets started and they are setting up for the opening act. You massage your temples. Let this day end.

“Picture?” you hear JHope ask as he walks over with his camera. “Ok!” you put back on your enthusiastic facade.

“Selfie?”

“Oh ok sure.” you stand next to him and take a few pictures. Once again that low lying rage fills your stomach. Jesus. How can a person who doesn’t even want a soul mate get so damn jealous?

“Stop it.” you say to him.

“Stop what?” he responds. You give him a hardcore mom look.

“Yeah ok. Whatever,” you say.

“Now, you two?” JHope asks and you almost object but you don’t want to be rude. You stand next to RM and give a half-ass smile. More of a smirk really.

“Ok. For real. I am Going now. Good luck.” you say as you turn and finally get your hands on the damn earpiece. NEXT CHAPTER