#(its because his battle body and regular clothes are two different things)

[maxladcomics]

Still thinking about Papyrus calling his battle body his 'regular clothes'

Btw he changes his clothes

[reidyoulikeabook]

Personal Google

4 times Spencer knows the answer, and the 1 time he doesn’t.

Summary: Spencer is your own personal Google. He always knows the answer to anything you ask him.

Warnings: Pining, slow burn-ish (?), reader and Spencer are both idiots who aren’t acknowledging their feelings for each other. Some mentions of a case and case-typical violence. No references to the gender of the reader!

Word count: 2k (this ran away from me)

A/N: Part two to this is here!

Requests: open!!

“Hey Spence?” You call, barely looking up from your phone as you scroll through Twitter, “What’s a hedgefund?”

“Are you reading about the GameStop stock?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

He clears his throat, and you look up at him, “Okay. A hedgefund is a way for accredited investors to invest in a way that minimises the risk to their own assets. Without getting too complicated, because it can get really convoluted, it’s basically just a way for rich people to get richer a lot of the time because a prerequisite for investing in the majority is having a high net income or a high net worth to begin with.”  

You smile, “So basically rich people are getting screwed?”

“Something like that.”

“Good,” You respond, putting your phone away.

You swear you hear a little laugh escape his mouth as he turns back to the computer at his desk.

***

You’re sat on the jet, in your usual seat next to him, when everything starts to go pear-shaped. It jolts a little, sending you knocking into his side. You grimace.

“It’s just a little turbulence,” Hotch says, “Probably because of the storm coming from the East. We should be landing soon.”

Rationally, you realise there’s nothing to be afraid of. But it’s easier said than done to keep rational when the plane’s rattling like a pack of smarties and your head is bashing against Spencer’s bony shoulder every five seconds.

He senses your unease, tentatively reaching across to take hold of your hand. His instinct is to supply statistics about plane crashes but something in him tells him you won’t respond too well if he tells you the odds of getting in a small plane crash are higher than a regular commercial flight but still lower than the chances of being involved in a motor vehicle accident. Instead, he chooses a different tactic.

“It’ll be alright, we’ve been in the air for two hours and,” He squints at his watch, “Forty-three minutes. This flight’s two hours fifty-eight tops.”

You nod, “Hey Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember this morning when you were telling me about the French dancing plague and we got interrupted by the call about the case?”

You don’t have to say anything more, he immediately launches into a spiel about France in 1615: the death of crops, how the people felt they were being spited by God, the whole thing. He gestures wildly with his free hand, but the hand that lies atop of yours doesn’t budge an inch. You rub small circles on it with your thumb, which goes unacknowledged. Privately, you’re a little disappointed. Privately, he’s afraid you’ll stop if he points it out.

***

It’s been a long and fruitless day. The local PD had been worse than useless, they were so reluctant to accept that anybody from their town could possibly have been responsible for what was going on that it felt like a constant battle to get anything done. You’d been out interviewing possible witnesses from the local bar. Well, trying to, you would have been a lot more successful if the Sheriff hadn’t constantly been under your feet, undermining your questions and generally resulting in making you look like an idiot.

Hotch had chewed him out in the end, relinquishing you from interview duty to help Spencer with the geographical profile back at the station. He’s scribbling away on the map while you slump in the chair, a little defeated.

“Hey Spence?”

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not taking his eyes off the section he’s just crossed out.

“How come you’re ruling out that side of town?”

He flips the whiteboard pen in his hands, returning its cap before turning around to you, “A lot of the area over there is industrial. I’ve been combing through to get a closer look, but it doesn’t look like our unsub would have the kind of privacy he needs. There are a lot of factories, granted, but they’re pretty much all occupied. He’s meticulous, I don’t think he’d take the risk of working in an environment where he couldn’t control anything and risking getting himself caught. And from what we know about him he certainly isn’t affluent enough to rent property on that side of town. Rent is almost three times as expensive there,” he gestures with his hands, tapping the lid of the pen on the area he means, “I think he’s more likely to be from the northmost part of town.”

You smile, “I don’t know how you do that.”

He opens his mouth to respond before seeing the softness in your eyes, realising you’re not asking for an explanation. You’re giving him a compliment. His chest feels a little warm.

***

You can’t sleep that night, despite how exhausting your day has been. You’d think the physical and mental exhertion would knock you out but instead you’re sat on your bed, idly flipping through TV channels. Not much is on except some old NCIS re-runs, and oddly enough you don’t feel like watching a crime show.

You could text Spencer. The thought appears in your head of its own accord, without your consent.

You could though.

10:12pm - You

You’d think after a day like today I’d be able to get some rest

10:13pm - Spencer

You can’t sleep?

10:13pm - You

No, sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep

10:14pm - Spencer

I can’t sleep either, don’t worry. Do you want to come over to my room? I have a documentary about Pearl Harbour I was going to watch

10:14pm - Spencer

Or we could do something else. Not sure if Pearl Harbour is more fun for you than struggling to fall asleep

10:15pm - You

A Pearl Harbour documentary sounds great

Thankfully you’d had the forethought to bring nice sleeping attire rather than your old ratty ones. You’d learnt your lesson before, when your presence had been required in the middle of the night and you’d had to scramble down to team meetings in pyjama bottoms that had a hole in the right thigh.

You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror, some anxiety fluttering in your stomach for some reason.

It’s odd. It’s hardly the first time you’ve been over to Spencer’s room for crying out loud, I mean he’s the person you’re closest to on the team and your best friend and your private yearning for him is mostly   inconsequential. Mostly. Except you fix your hair and smooth down your top a little anyway.

He’s only three doors down and it’s easy enough to slip quietly into his room. He sits on the bed, two glasses of water resting on the bedside table, his laptop resting by his knees. He’s illuminated by the bedside lamp next to him, and his hair looks fluffy as hell. No doubt from him running his own hands through it in frustration today. He smiles at you, patting the space next to him.

You pad across and join him, “Hey Spence.”

“Hi.”

His laptop isn’t particularly loud, and the screen isn’t very big, so you end up sat quite close to him. The laptop rests on his lap. You hesitate before nuzzling in against him, feeling how his breath catches in his chest as your head rests against his on the bedframe.

“Is this okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” He answers, a small content smile playing on his lips, “Yeah this is okay.”

***

You’re not sure when or how you fell asleep but you wake up with a start to the sound of pounding on the door. And you’re not in your own bed. You briefly acknowledge the warmth next to you before it’s gone, Spencer leaping out of bed to answer the door.

“We’ve been-” Emily stands in the doorway, the bedroom lamp that you must have neglected to turn off allowing her to catch a glimpse of your dazed face, “Reid, why is ____ in your room?”

Spencer opens his mouth, flustered and unsure of what to say, floundering between looking at you both for a moment before  Emily rescues him. The digital clock obnoxiously blinks the time: 2:18am.

“Okay we’re definitely talking about this later but there’s another body, Hotch wants us all down at the station in 15.”

It occurs to you, as you rush embarassed from Spencer’s room, apologising to him at least five times on your way out, that the only thing standing between you and a million questions about your personal life is the focus on an unsub who you’ll hopefully catch today. You shrug your clothes over your head, replacing them with fresh ones and pulling on your shoes. The jet home is going to be fun.

—-

You were right to be hopeful about today. The unsub is tracked down and arrested by the time night comes around. His arrest is clean, no hostages and no shots fired. Really, in your line of work, it was the best possible outcome.

Hotch made the call that you’d spend another night here, since there was paperwork that’d need to be taken care of in the morning and some final loose ends that required wrapping up. You suspected some small part of it was because J.J wanted to ensure you made nice and left things on good terms with the local PD before you left, since there’d been a lot of headbutting throughout the case. Spencer had also been completely right about the geographical profile, the unsub had been working and killing from a rundown ramshackle house in the northmost suburb.

Speaking of Spencer, you’d barely acknowledged each other since this morning. Sure, you’d shared rooms together before, even beds when the occasion had called for it, but you’d never been so intimate before.

Maybe it was best for you both if you just ignored the whole thing entirely, carried on as normal. Yeah. Yeah that’s what you’d do.

You worried about the meaning of anything you said being lost over text so you headed to his room, knocking on his door. It brought a small smile to your face to think how you’d been on the other side of it the last time someone knocked.

He opens it, just slightly, before relaxing when he sees it’s you, “Hey.”

“Hi,” You step past him into the room, watching him close the door and take a step towards you.

He waits for you to speak.

“So. We never finished that documentary.”

He laughs, soft, “We didn’t.”

“Do you want to finish it now?”

“Uh…”  He visibly pauses and you feel a small twinge in your chest. Maybe you’d made him uncomfortable, maybe you’d misread the whole thing, maybe you’d...

He interrupts your self-deprecating runaway train of thoughts with a simple, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As you settle down to watch the film, his laptop situated firmly in the middle of the bed this time, you feel the gulf between you. Empty space where his leg rested against yours yesterday. Still, that was what he wanted, right? His own space. Not to talk about it.

You don’t notice because you’re watching the documentary, but Spencer has to stop himself from reaching his arm out for you when he stretches. You didn’t want to talk about it, obviously. Meaning you probably wished it hadn’t happened. He tried to ignore the ache in his chest at that thought, the hollow feeling it left. Thankfully it wasn’t too long before you spoke again.

“Hey Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this historically accurate?”

And explaining the nuances of Japanese-American history is much easier for him.

[youbloodymadgenius]

What Could Have Been (Ivar x reader)

A/N: This piece wasn’t requested;  the idea just popped into my mind and I had to write it. I don’t write smut often - I find it very hard in a foreign language - and I know I’m not very good at it. I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.

@geekandbooknerd​ - thank you so much for beta reading this for me ♥️

@pomegranates-and-blood​ - I hope you don't mind that I borrowed the last sentence from you. It fit perfectly 😉

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: When Ivar calls for a healer, he does not expect you, his occasional lover, to enter his tent.

Warning: smut.

Words: 2385

"Go and fetch the healer!" Ivar commands, exploding as the guard outside the tent doesn't react quick enough. "YOU GO NOW OR I SWEAR I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD ON A STICK BEFORE NIGHTFALL!" His roar loud enough to be heard all over the camp, the frightened guard runs away while babbling apologies, his cheeks burning red.

 Sweating and in pain, Ivar enters the tent, heading slowly toward a straw mattress. Grunting, he flops down on the makeshift bed and closes his eyes briefly, trying to keep the agony in his legs at bay. The battle had been harsh on his twisted limbs, leaving him with stiff, aching muscles. 

 "You asked for a healer, Prince Ivar?" Your fresh and youthful voice startles him and he raises his head, furrowing his brow as he looks at you. "I was expecting Una." His dry, annoyed tone doesn't unsettle, nor surprise you. Prince Ivar is not exactly the most easygoing person. And you know he's very secretive when it comes to his pain. He trusts Una, the main healer, who has been taking care of his legs on a daily basis for many years.  

 "I'm sure you were." You just nod, undeterred. "We may have won the battle, Prince Ivar, but the wounded are countless. Una is taking care of Hrafn, whose arm had to be cut off. She's the one who sent me to you. So, sorry if it bothers you, my Prince, but I'm afraid you'll have to do with me. As for myself, rest assured that I know precisely what I must do. " 

The truth is, tending to Ivar's legs is nothing hard, nor complicated. A meadowsweet and nettle infusion to ease the pain, a salve made with a concoction of boiled blackcurrant and ash leaves collected on Midsummer Night to undo the knots in his thighs and calves, that's all you need, and both are in the small leather pouch you wear at your waist at all times. 

In addition, a hot bath of course wouldn't do any harm, but there's no such luxury while fighting a war.  

 Seemingly unconvinced, Ivar scowls and snorts, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he weighs pros and cons, longing for relief but at the same time reluctant because you're not his regular healer. And perhaps also because you're… you.

 Your suspicions are confirmed an instant later, as Ivar wearily rubs his face with a bloody hand. "No other healers were available? Surely there are not just the two of you, right?"

 You shrug, hardly suppressing a grin. He's right, of course. There are many of you here in Wessex, alongside the Great Heathen Army. However, you and Una are the only ones who are not terrified of Ragnar's unpredictable youngest son. Therefore, since Una was busy, you were the only one willing to go and take care of his legs. But telling him that wouldn't be very wise, right? So, you choose another way.

 "My Prince, if I may say so, don't make things harder. I'm already here, and I can tell you're in pain. So, please, let me do what I'm here for." Inhaling deeply, you give him a small smile. "If it's easier for you, let's say that what happened in the past stays in the past. I'm here as a healer, nothing more, I intend to do my job in the most efficient way and I know I can help you."

 Back in Kattegat, when Ivar was still a boy and not yet this bloodthirsty man obsessed with revenge, before Aslaug's and Ragnar's deaths, before all Hel breaks loose, you and he used to fuck from time to time. At first, you agreed to do it because you wanted to help him. Not because you were a healer, but because Hvitserk, your best friend, was worried about his baby brother after his tremendous failure with Margrethe. You taught Ivar how to please a woman and showed him that he was much more whole than he thought. You then kept sleeping with him because sex was great, Ivar a skilled and fast learner. Yet, there was no real bond, no love between the two of you; just some kind of mutual respect, tinged with an undeniable physical attraction. 

 "My Prince?" You ask softly, your hands ghosting over his thighs as you kneel down in front of him. "May I?" Remembering Una's words – this leg is so broken, so twisted, I do not know how the prince can manage walking, but I do know its iron equipment is like a torture device which causes him an unbearable amount of pain – you gesture first toward the metal armor encaging his right leg.

 Ivar barely nods, a long sigh escaping his lips as he closes his eyes shut. You never did it. Back then, you weren't allowed to. But today is different. Ivar is tired, in pain, and you're not his occasional lover, but a healer. There's no hesitation in your movements; your skillful hands undoing the loops of the brace, you're working fast. Soon, you're able to carefully remove the heavy contraption, and then give your full attention to his left leg. 

 When both his legs are free, you stand up, "Can you take off your pants, my Prince?" and step away, rummaging around the room for a water bucket and a cloth. Actually, you want to give him some privacy. You never really saw his legs and are aware it's a huge matter of concern for him. Once again, you remember what Una told you – I usually work under the furs – and add without turning around, "And please, cover your legs with as many furs as you can, we need to keep them warm." 

 ***

 After making sure his legs are well covered, you grab the cloth Ivar used to clean his hands and face, placing it on a nearby table, next to the water bucket. You then put your supplies in your pouch before turning towards the prince. Eyes closed, his head on a fluffy pillow – the perks of being a prince, you can't help but think, slightly jealous – Ivar seems completely relaxed. You're sure he's not sleeping, though, so you clear your throat while turning toward him. "If you don't need me anymore, my Prince, I'll go back to Una." 

 Ivar exhales slowly as his eyelids flutter open. He just looks at you without uttering a word for a long time, looking a little confused, as if he doesn't exactly remember your presence. He then gives you a small smile – his way of thanking you? – but shakes his head no. Something sparkles in his gaze and Ivar licks his bottom lip. You know him well enough to know that's the exact moment when his mood swings. He props himself up on one elbow, reaching out in an attempt to grab your hand, but to no avail. He lets out a frustrated groan, but his voice is soft, and so are his eyes. "Come closer." Yet, you know you don't have a choice. Denying a prince is anything but a wise option; denying Prince Ivar could be life-threatening. 

 Taking two steps forward, you join the bed and place a hand on Ivar's shoulder. "What else can I do for you, my Prince?" 

 Wrapping his arm around your waist, Ivar pulls you toward him, leaving you no choice but to sit next to him. "Kiss me." He breathes, his blue orbs never leaving your eyes. 

 "Your wish is my command." You whisper while leaning forward to close the gap between the two of you. Your lips find his and Ivar immediately takes charge, a hand behind your neck. His tongue invades your mouth while his free hand slips under your dress, his thick fingers finding the bare skin of your thighs. You let out a gasp, surprised, and delighted. 

 This is new. 

 Back in Kattegat, whenever it was just the two of you, Ivar was always this insecure, tentative boy, eager to learn but clearly grateful that you were willing to take the lead. 

 He's no longer the same. War changed him. The boy has grown into a resolute man, who knows what he wants and who doesn't wait to take it. You won't lie: if you found the boy alluring, this – the warlord look, the confidence, the straight-to-the-point thing – is a whole new level of attractiveness. And a major turn-on.

 When Ivar deepens the kiss, fierce and hungry at once, he pulls you closer, your breasts pressed against his chiseled chest, you cannot help but arch your back as a wave of heat spreads in your belly.

 "Ivar…" You moan and he captures the sound in his mouth, delving deeper again while slipping a rough knuckle against your clit. You nearly choke, almost missing his next words. "Scoot closer." He mumbles, his lips against yours and you don't have to think twice about his demand as you are all too happy to surrender. Straddling him, you push him down onto his back and drive your tongue into his ear. The feeling of his solid, muscular torso between your thighs consumes your senses, a blinding heat coursing from between your legs to fill your entire body. You can't wait any longer. You need him. The craving of being filled up is almost unbearable but when you move your hand downward, your fingers grazing his erected cock, he stops you, a wolfish grin on his face. "I want to taste you first." 

 When he runs his hands up the insides of your thighs after you had moved up to sit on his face, you practically die and clamp your legs around his face, shoving your wet pussy into his mouth. Rewarded with a slap on your ass, you gasp in excitement as he slides a knuckle along your lips. It drives you so wild that you can barely breathe, and Ivar keeps going, his mouth just inches from your clit, drawing shapes around your sensitive skin, teasing you, blowing air into you. Heat is slowly building in your core, burning you inside. You curl your toes and contract your lower belly, panting and moaning, and suddenly, Ivar touches your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue. You almost lose it. Your whole body is about to break into a thousand pieces and you struggle, sucking in several short breaths. 

 "Gods…" Eyes closed, you shiver as Ivar picks up a rhythm. He knows exactly what he's doing. Barely moving his skilled tongue, he applies a warm pressure, each tiny move bringing you to the edge. It doesn't take long for your stomach to be drenched in sweat, and as much as you want to make this last forever, your entire body is taken over by a wave of spasms and pleasure and you explode in orgasm, biting your lip to keep from screaming. 

 Ivar doesn't give you time to settle down or to come to your senses, lifting his head, a cocky grin playing on his glistening lips. 

 "Ride me." He commands, his voice hoarse and loud as he pulls the cover off his groin. A wild laugh escapes your lips when you scoot downward, still on top of him, kissing his nipples, then his toned stomach; you find his cock hard under your fingers, your other hand massaging his balls. Without a warning, you plunge him into yourself, gasping as you feel his cock slide deep inside you. Leaning forward until your head is just above his, you kiss him hard before grounding your hips against his. You then pull up, all the way to his tip, constricting the muscles in your lower belly, and then push back down as far as you can. It sends a rippling wave along your inside walls and Ivar moans, his hands grabbing your ass. 

 As you pump your hips up and down, Ivar squirms beneath you, meeting each one of your thrusts, pushing his hips up as you speed up the pace. Back and forth, back and forth… You move your hips faster and faster, a drop of sweat trickling down your back. The rhythm is frantic now and you almost black out as you suddenly climax once again, Ivar groaning loudly while spreading his hot seed inside you. 

 You fall heavily onto him, sated and exhausted. "Gods, that was amazing!" You finally say, and Ivar chuckles, a smirk on his face. "It was, indeed." Wrapping his hand around your waist, he then does something surprisingly sweet, kissing your forehead tenderly. With your head resting on his tattooed chest, you just hum, and since your eyelids are getting heavy, you close them, sated and exhausted.

 You're dozing off as Hvitserk's voice outside the tent, startles you awake. "Y/N, you're still in there?"

 Sitting up in bed, you give Ivar a confused look while stretching out your upper body. "Yes." You want to ask why but Hvitserk doesn't give you the time. "Hurry up then! Una is looking for you."

 Sighing, you give Ivar a quick peck on the cheek and stand up hastily. "You heard your brother; I have to go." You give him one last look and are about to get out of the tent when his voice stops you. "Wait, Y/N."

 You turn around, and to your surprise, there's no longer a bloodthirsty warlord in front of you, but a boy, shy and insecure, who bites his bottom lip and lowers his gaze. The new Ivar turns you on, there's no denying it, but this one, the timid one, is absolutely adorable, and your heart flutters. You flash him a reassuring smile. Ivar inhales deeply, blinking a few times. "Will you…" He starts but stops immediately. 

 You raise a brow questioningly, but the moment is gone, his face now expressionless. Ivar just nods at you, his gaze steady as he gestures to his legs. "Thank you."

 You're sure that's not what he was going to tell you; that's not what you could read in his eyes. Will you come back later?

 Stifling a sigh, you straighten your dress as best you can. Sadly, there's nothing you can do. "You're welcome, my Prince." You say softly; and with that, you walk away, your mind filled with regret.

 You would have said yes.

🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @inforapound​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @peachyboneless​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @ethereallysimple​ @destynelseclipsa​ @coco2315​ @mlchael-guerin​

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [7]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.4K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter because I think its my favorite chapter so far! FYI, if I don't update this series in a while, it'll be because I am working on an 18+ oneshot for a collab for Bakugou's birthday. So if that does happen, the regular uploads will happen after Bakugou's birthday. And let me tell you, its going to be S P I C Y~

But I can't express how surprised I am by all the love I'm receiving! I really wish I could respond to all your comments, but again, this is my side blog so I can't comment! If ya'll want to follow me on my main... please dont. LOL not to be mean or anything but I don't use my main at all and I don't post ever so there's no point in following me there :)

PLEASE ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG! JOIN THE FAMILY!

[previous]                                                                                               [next]

Your heart physically dropped when he said that. You felt sick. Your palms were sweating and shaking. The air around you grew dense and you felt like you couldn’t breath. You couldn’t move for that matter.

Ruin?

What would he do to you if he found out that you weren’t really a princess? That you were a fake lying to him this whole time. It made you sick, just imaging every cruel thing he could do once he found out. But then you remembered, he wasn’t like all the rumors you heard. He was different. He was kind and understanding. He wouldn’t really ruin you if he found out, would he? You shook away the thought. The more you think about it, the more you were likely to get caught.

You were completely exhausted from all that labor you produced in a week’s time. Town after town, you were able to help his people even if it was just a little bit. But it sure depleted a lot of energy out of you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this drained before in your entire life. It’s not like you had to do hard physical labor back at the palace. This experience was hard on you but also gave you insight on the prince and his kingdom.

Completely drained of your energy, you sat down on one of the tree trunks his soldiers brought for you at the camp not far away from the village you were at. The impoverished village didn’t have enough shelter as is, so you were left with no option but to set up your own shelter. It wasn’t a big deal to you anyway since that’s how you’ve been spending your nights so far.

All the soldiers had gathered around to take a breather for the night and drink away the stress. You weren’t a drinker, but enjoyed the atmosphere the soldiers created: fun and rowdy, like they didn’t give a care in the world. They were dancing on tables, clinking their drinks together, singing songs while hooking their arms around each other’s shoulders.

You laughed at the sight and stretched out your arms. How you wanted to continue the night away but your muscles were soar and aching. A physical exhaustion that you weren’t used to and didn’t want to get used to.

Bakugou was watching his crew from the door, arms crossed and enjoying his crew have fun. He was never the one to be center of attention, so he had his own fun from the back. He saw the way you extended your arms, faced wincing from how sore you were. Cute. It was your last night of volunteer work, why not end the night with something special?

You felt the Blood Prince’s breath sneak up behind your neck, sending chills down your spine.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Maybe just a little,” you admit. You look up at him and he’s giving you those soft yet piercing eyes. He goes to sit next to you and everything is just… peaceful. In that moment you felt content. You felt free. If this was how life was out of the palace, if this was more to life than just serving a spoiled princess, then you didn’t want to leave.

“I am impressed, princess,” Bakugou spoke. “This whole trip, you never, not once sat out. You helped the whole time. Are you sure you’re a princess?” he side eyed you.

“If I am not a princess, then what am I?” you asked back. (y/n), what are you doing? You could expose yourself and everything would be ruined! But for some reason, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to know his reaction and how he would respond. Maybe you would give up your whole mission for him.

“An innocent and hardworking beauty that is not a princess. She is my future queen who will help me restore this kingdom.” He came closer to you, meaning every single word. Your eyes softened and you got emotional, almost to the point of tears. He’s smiling at you, but suddenly gets up. But gestures for you to take his hand. Of course you did.

“I want to show you something,” he says and leads you away from the crowd of people and into the woods.

You two were walking for a while, your hand in his the whole way. He hadn’t told you where he was leading you to but it had to be something special if he was dragging you to what seemed like all across the country to get to your destination.

“Your highness, are we almost there yet?” you asked, fatigue hitting you once again.

“Almost,” he responds, continuing to look ahead. You huffed and held on tight to his hand so you didn’t get lost or left behind. After a few more minutes of walking, you felt the air get hotter and thinner. Bakugou smiles in front of you, looking excited.

“We’re here,” he announces. He pulls back these huge leaves, revealing a natural hot spring. The water was clear enough that you could see right through it, steam rising from the water, and rocks surrounding it, creating this gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere. Your eyes lit up and a loud gasp escaped your lips.

“How did you find this place?” you asked, getting closer to the hot spring.

“You like it? None of my men know about this place,” he says.

“It’s beautiful!” you continue to gasp, feeling the water with your hands. The heat of the water made you giddy and you couldn’t wait to hop in.

“You deserve it,” Bakugou comes up to, whispering in your ear. His statement made you blush, but this time, you didn’t hide it. He smirks behind you and you heard something falling to the floor. You dare turn around to see Bakugou shirtless, discarding his clothes one by one. As if your face wasn’t hot enough, steam was coming out of your ears with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” you freaked out, turning around immediately.

“Getting in,” he said in the most obvious tone of voice.

“Together?”

“You’ll be on one side and I’ll be on the other,” he points out a huge rock, separating the hot spring into two pools. That seems a little better, but the idea of soaking in a hot spring together with the prince was nerve wracking.

“Princess, you can enter first, if that makes you feel better,” he suggested. When you turn to look at him, he already had his back turn out of respect for you.

So you undress and enter the heated water, noticing that all your muscles relaxed and the aches started going away as soon as you hit the water. You lean the back of your head on the rock and allow yourself to fully relax and destress. You could hear water splashing from the other side of the rock, indicating that Bakugou had also entered the water. Humming in satisfaction. You grew deeper and deeper in the hot spring until your nose was sitting on top of the water.

“Princess, I realize that I don’t know your name,” Bakugou spoke. Your name? You stayed silent. Was it wise to use your own name or should you continue to play as the princess?

“(y/n).” you decided.

“(y/n),” Bakugou repeated, elongating your name as if he stopped saying it, it’d disappear from him forever. The way your name left his lips felt like butter to him. He couldn’t help himself from repeated your name over and over again in his mind. You giggled and looked over the rock, arms crossed and head resting over them.

“Your highness, allow me to scrub your back,” you offered. Bakugou waved his hand while shaking his head.

“Nonsense. You shall not attend to me. We’re here to relax,” he had to remind you. But you insisted.

“But I want to, Prince Bakugou,” you pouted, jutting out your bottom lip.

“The high and mighty princess wants to wash the blood Prince’s back?” he questions playfully. He glances back to see you resting on top of the rock, giving him your big doe eyes.

“If you insist,” he gave up. He turns his back again, making sure to give you the privacy you needed to be able to come over to his side. You make your way over to him, covering your breasts in case. When you got settled behind him, you started washing his back.

You expected Bakugou to have scars from his many battles he’s had, but you didn’t expect his back to be covered in decolored and deformed wounds. Unknowingly, your hands went up to caress each scar.

“Does that frighten you?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it makes you very brave.”

A comfortable silence fell upon you. Only the sound of water running and insects in the background could be heard. That was until you felt poke your butt. The hairs on your body hiked and you screamed as loud as you could, rising from the water in panic.

“Princess!” Bakugou instinctively put protection mode on, shooting up from his place to see what the danger was. You immediately clung to him, Bakugou wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. What Bakugou saw wasn’t an enemy but rather, a wild Japanese macaque monkey poking his head out of the water.

“Shoo!” Bakugou scared the monkey out of the water and back into the forest. Bakugou grunted and relaxed his shoulders. “Damn monkeys. I thought they only came out during the winter season. Are you okay, prin…cess,” he looked down at you only for you to look up at him with your exposed chest fully pressed against his chest. Now this could easily be the most embarrassing moment of your entire life. Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out another scream, using all your force to slap him across the face. Bakugou wasn’t expecting such a reaction and it caught him off guard. You put for much force into the slap that Bakugou flew back and fell into the water. You ran out of the spring, covering up as fast as you could.

Bakugou had never been so flustered in his life. He was a blushing mess and now the image of your naked breasts on him could not escape his mind. He needed time to calm himself down and a certain friend from getting too excited.

When you both had returned back to the rest of the crew, everybody had been knocked out cold from the alcohol. Thank goodness, because they couldn’t see how awkward you two were at the moment. That night, you slept in the tent again while Bakugou camped outside.

But you couldn’t sleep. How could that situation happen to you, out of all people? You weren’t sure how much he saw of your naked body. Maybe he didn’t see anything at all. But you saw the expression on his face, he definitely saw something. You covered your chest and closed your eyes. To think that a man saw your body and it wasn’t even your wedding night.

You felt the wind enter your tent, the chill making you shiver. If it was cold inside the tent, it must be extra cold outside. Bakugou was sleeping outside. You bit your lip in confliction. You wanted him to be warm but that means you had to confront him. Ah, fuck it. You opened your tent and saw Bakugou resting on the grass with his cape wrapped around him. And it wasn’t doing a very good job because you could see him shivering. He couldn’t hide it no matter how hard he tried.

“Would you like to come inside?” you invite him in.

“It’s for you, princess,” he reminded you.

“I understand. But it’s too cold to be sleeping out here. Please. I insist,” you urged. He opens one eye and sighs.

“As you wish, princess,” Bakugou gave in. You scooted over to make room for the large man to sleep next to you. Bakugou made himself comfy but he was a tad too tall for the tent that he had to have his legs hanging out. The opening of the tent revealed the big, bright moon overhead.

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” you apologized. Bakugou just lets out a breath.

“It’s whatever. I didn’t see anything, by the way,” he reassures you. Embarrassed again, you unconsciously covered your chest.

“You sure?”

“Erased from my mind,” he says as he closes his eyes and moves his hands around his head, as if he was erasing his memory. You laugh at his antics, more comfortable with the mood that was created. Bakugou laughs with you and turns to you, meeting eyes. This is the nth time that his heart leapt when you stare at him with those innocent, childlike eyes. He clears his throat and all of a sudden, his ears got red.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Bakugou professed. You blinked in confusion. You weren’t sure why he said that. Glancing up at the moon, you guess you could say that it was beautiful. It was a full moon, and shone brightly above your heads. You weren’t versed in the poetics so you couldn’t comprehend the message the Blood Prince was trying to get at you.

“The moon is especially beautiful tonight. But isn’t the moon beautiful every night?” you responded.

Bakugou looks are you in mortification. Fuck, did he just get rejected? His ears got hot and he covered his mouth with his hands.

“Yeah… yeah it is,” he agreed, embarrassed. He took a deep breath in and back out again to calm his beating heart. You look over at him to see him a little distressed. You softly smiled, another side you got to see of him. It was cute. You could feel your heartbeat starting to pick its pace up and that’s when you realized. Gathering up all the courage you could muster, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek you slapped.

“Good night,” you quickly say, then turned over to face away from him. Bakugou stops everything in his tracks and is frozen. He couldn’t help but smile and fall asleep next to you.

The moment you made the decision to kiss him was when you knew that you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to become his queen and rule his kingdom together. You were going to forget your past life. You were going to forget this mission you were on. You were the princess now. That was his truth and you weren’t going to change it.

A/N: For those who don't know, the phrase "the moon is beautiful, isn't it" or 月が綺麗ですね is a more poetic way of saying "I love you" in olden Japanese. And then the response to that would be "I can die happy" or 死んでもいいわ. Just for reference.

As I said before, I absolutely love this chapter and I really really REALLY want to know your reactions and thoughts!

Spoiler: drama starts in the next chapter :)

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know in the comments or DM me! and if you'd like to be tagged when my 18+ oneshot comes out, let me know too! I love you all!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @briefhoundpartynickel @bnhahegao

[lavenderbexlatte]

a handful (or two)

stray kids 3.9k words female reader insert Thick/Chubby!Reader x Lee Felix  EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: DISCUSSIONS OF WEIGHT/BODY IMAGE/INSECURITY, unprotected sex 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

Sitting at your kitchen table in the early evening, you feel more like a soldier walking into battle than anything else.

You’ve got a list of your body measurements scrawled on a piece of paper beside you, as you scroll through an online shop on your phone. Ruffled blouses, wrap dresses, raw-hemmed jeans, tiered skirts, fitted cardigans. The clothes are cute, and your Likes list has no shortage of garments, but you’ve reached the worst part of clothes shopping:

Finding things that are actually in your size.

Korean online malls are not known for their variety of sizes, even though obviously, the people in any country who need to buy clothes have all different kinds of bodies. The cute clothes, the mainstream ones, the clothes that YouTubers and Instagram models promote, are mostly one-size. And that one size…is small.

Too small for you.

It’s a regular debate that you have with yourself. You shouldn’t even give your patronage to shops like these ones, where you have to filter through every single item and look at the detailed measurements to find the rare pair of pants that you could squeeze into. You shouldn’t play into a system that makes you hate yourself.

But you need new jeans. And in your heart, you want cute jeans from the online mall, like everyone else.

You pull up a pair of jeans in exactly the style that you want and scroll down to the measurements. You have to steel yourself as you look at the numbers.

Waist…hips…thigh…rise…length…

They’re too small.

You pull up another pair, and another, and another. They’re all too small.

“No,” says a small, dark voice in the back of your mind, “You’re just too big.”

You’re so caught up in this game of finding cute things to wear and discovering exactly how much the seller doesn’t want them to fit on people like you, that you don’t even hear your boyfriend until he’s right next to you.

“What are you doing?” comes a deep voice, right in your ear.

You jump in your seat, fumbling your phone for a second and catching it before it falls. Catching your breath, you look up at Felix, stood beside your chair gazing down at you.

“Jesus, when did you get here?” you ask, putting your phone down before anything else happens.

“Just got in,” he answers, nodding toward the door. “I called hello. You didn’t answer.”

Felix has a key to your place, free to come and go as he pleases, so it’s not exactly unusual for him to turn up like this. He’s dressed in a big t-shirt and joggers, practice clothes, obviously fresh from the studio with the rest of the guys.

“I was distracted,” you murmur.

“I guess so,” he grins at you.

You offer a halfhearted smile in return, feeling stupid for your bad mood, caused by something so out of your control. Shopping shouldn’t ruin your day. Felix pulls out your other dining chair to sit across from you at the small dining table, and you can’t help but stare at his body as he settles down. 

He’s so…skinny.

You’re envious. You shouldn’t be, because your body is plenty good enough as it is. But you are. With a body like that, you could wear anything.

“What are you doing?” he asks you.

You hesitate, but Felix pays no mind to your internal struggle, reaching across the table to pick up the scrap of paper covered in your measurements. You want to snatch the paper out of his hands, which is ridiculous. He knows what your body looks like. Seeing the numbers that describe it isn’t going to scare him off.

But still, you feel that sick self-consciousness rising up as he glances over the paper, and sets it back down.

“I’m trying to buy jeans,” you say weakly.

“Trying?” Felix prods.

“Trying and failing.”

You pick up your phone, unlock it, and shove it at him, the screen still open to the last pair of too-small jeans. He peers at the listing, at the chart full of centimeters, and then down at your measurements scrawled out in your handwriting.

“They call that a large?” Felix says, amazed, and you cringe. “It’s like a half-centimeter difference.”

You know he’s just surprised since shopping for women’s clothes isn’t something he does often, and you’re sure he doesn’t know how common this problem is for you. But his words still sting a little.

“Yeah,” you say, “I think I’m done for tonight.”

You try not to let your deep-seated disappointment in the situation, and in yourself, show too much. Felix watches as you stand up and stretch. You can tell he’s thinking hard, can see that he wants to say something. But you really don’t need his commentary on this. You spend enough time thinking about your body, wanting to change your body, hating that you want to change your body…

“Do you want dinner? I went to the store earlier,” you say, determined to change the subject.

“Sure,” Felix agrees easily.

You cross your little kitchen and fling open the cupboard to dig out groceries for your meal. At least this is a task to take your mind off everything.

You don’t even notice as Felix takes the slip of paper from the table and folds it into his pocket.

--------------- Some days later, you all but trip into your bedroom after work, exhausted but hopeful.

Felix’s shoes and jacket were both waiting by the front door when you came in, which means he’s here waiting for you. He was nowhere to be seen in the rest of your small apartment, so that leaves this.

Of course, you’re not disappointed; Felix is lounging on your bed, playing on his phone and looking like the epitome of comfort in lounge pants and messy blonde hair. He smiles like the sunrise when he sees you.

“Hi, angel,” he says, as you drop your bag on the floor.

Instead of replying, you let yourself fall onto the bed beside him, flat on your back, and stretch out your poor sore limbs like a starfish.

“Long day?” he asks.

“The longest,” you agree.

“You’re in luck, though,” he says, “I have a surprise for you.”

You turn your head to look at him. “Really?”

He nods.

“Then gimme!” you quip.

Felix laughs brightly, and unfolds himself to retrieve a small gift bag from the side of the bed, tucked out of view. He hands it to you, and it’s surprisingly heavy and dense for its size. Today isn’t a special day by any means. Just a weekday, a work day, and you wrack your brain to figure out exactly why your boyfriend decided tonight was the night for presents.

“Can I open it?” you ask.

“You’d better,” says Felix, settling back down to watch you.

So you unceremoniously rip out the tissue paper packing, and when you’re met with a small pile of folded fabric, you upend the whole bag onto your bed.

There are four things inside.

A soft, oversized t-shirt, loose and comfortable and your favorite color, to boot.

A pair of thigh-high stockings.

A single thigh garter, in bright white.

And a pair of panties, also white. You unfold the underwear, to reveal a heart-shaped cutout on the back, and at the bottom…

“Crotchless?!” you ask, flustered.

Felix shrugs, his expression mischievous, “I thought they suited you.”

“What’s all this about?” you ask.

“I wanted to prove a point,” he says.

“What point can you prove with lingerie?”

“I’m proving pretty clearly that plenty of stores sell things to your measurements,” he says cheekily, “Just not that one store you were on the other day.”

Oh, my God.

You’re equal parts mortified and absolutely melting with the sweetness at the heart of this gesture. You didn’t realize that he was paying this much attention to you that day. You didn’t realize he knew how frustrated you were, how discouraged.

“They’re pretty,” you admit, turning the panties over in your hands.

“Then try them on for me.”

Felix’s tone is suggestive and low, lower than usual, and you know for certain that he didn’t just buy these things to cheer you up. He’s got an ulterior motive here.

“What’s in it for me?” you tease.

“Dress up for me and find out,” Felix replies.

Never one to turn down the prospect of some fun, you gather up the clothes and dart across the hall into your tiny bathroom. If Felix wants you to dress up for him, you need to do that alone and make a spectacle of it.

You dump the armful of clothing onto the counter. There’s no bra or anything, so you assume that Felix means for you to wear only the t-shirt. And that’s exactly what you do, stripping out of your work clothes and pulling the shirt over your head. You put on the panties, noting exactly how well they fit. The elastic doesn’t dig, and they don’t ride up, just smooth fabric and lace against your skin, hugging the curve of your ass. You try to forget about the opening at the bottom, baring you to the world; you already know Felix fully intends to use it, but you can’t believe he’s done this. It’s bold, even for him.

The thigh-highs come next, and while these also fit more nicely than any pair of tights you’ve ever owned, you have thick thighs, and the soft skin dimples around the top elastic band. You slide the thigh garter onto one leg, settling it at the top of the stocking. It only makes that indent more pronounced, soft flesh giving way under the thick white band. But you try your hardest not to feel self-conscious about it.

Felix picked these things for you. That means he wants to see you like this.

You pluck up all your courage, and walk back into your bedroom. Felix is waiting eagerly, and when you come into view, lingering shyly at the doorway, he smirks. 

Honest-to-God smirks.

“Oh, angel,” he says, his deep voice nearly breaking over the syllables, “Oh, yes.”

You can see plainly on his face how much this little outfit is affecting him, and it sends a little thrill down your spine. Because truly, these clothes aren’t too out of the ordinary. The thigh-highs are new, and the panties aren’t something you would have picked for yourself, but it’s hard not to feel like you’re just wearing…a t-shirt and underwear.

It’s the intimacy, you decide. The fact that Felix carefully chose items in your most precise, comfortable sizes, and built you a sexy little dress-up kit that makes you feel as good as you look…God. Overwhelmingly intimate, you realize, and hot as hell.

“Let me see you, come here and give me a little spin,” Felix teases, twirling his finger in the air to mimic the model turn he’s demanding.

Smiling, squashing down a touch of embarrassment, you comply, coming to stand before Felix and turning around slowly on the spot. You can feel his eyes on you, and as you turn your back on him completely, you hear your bed creak.

Hands land on your waist as Felix pulls you flush against his front, and you can feel how hard he is already, filling out the front of his sweatpants. He’s always eager, always relishes the time you get to spend lost in each other, but he seems especially brazen tonight, as he grinds his clothed cock against your ass and slides his hands under the t-shirt to cup your bare breasts.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmurs.

You turn around in his arms, letting his hands drop back to your waist. He’s grinning at you with no small amount of lust in his eyes. You’re sure that you look similarly affected; you can already feel wetness gathering between your legs. His undivided attention, especially when you’re dressed up like this just for him, has you going out of your mind with want.

“Then show me,” you say.

He huffs out a laugh before diving in to kiss you, his pouty bow-shaped lips moving against yours roughly. Felix kisses like he’s starving and you’re one of the desserts that he loves to bake, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he stops ravishing you. His hands wander down to your ass, pinching hard enough that you squeak.

“Easy on the goods!” you chastise, as the spot aches deliciously.

Felix just pinches you again, harder, and guides you back toward your bed. You lay back on the mattress with Felix right behind you, settling between your spread legs. He sits back on his heels, just looking down at you beneath him in your skimpy panties and stockings. He runs his hands down your thighs indulgently, sliding a finger under the garter on one side and pulling it back so that it snaps against your skin.

“Angel, I should’ve thought of this a long time ago,” he says.

There’s no time for you to tease him, because Felix pulls his shirt over his head and discards it over the side of the bed, and you’re taken in by his gorgeous lithe body, his tiny waist and the rippling lines of his abs. No matter how many times you see him like this, it’s still exciting, that you can have someone so beautiful. He takes hold of the hem of your t-shirt next, and coaxes you upright so that he can take that off, too.

Your body is the exact opposite of his, soft where his is hard, sloping curves instead of the sharp cut of his ribs and hips and shoulders. But he leans right down over you and begins to kiss and nibble his way down your body, starting at the juncture of your collarbone. He trails his mouth over your chest, down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasp as he grazes his teeth over the bud, and he laughs gently.

Felix continues his slow ascent as you grasp at the sheets, mouthing over your stomach, soft like the rest of you. His hands hold your legs open wide for him as he moves down your body. He skips over your core entirely, choosing instead to bite sharply into the exposed skin of your upper thigh, above the band of the stockings.

“Lix!” you gasp, unable to help how your hips twitch forward at the sensation of his teeth.

He hums in response, leisurely delving forward to press a single lingering kiss to your folds, on full display in these deceptively pure white panties that hide absolutely nothing.

“Fucking love your legs,” Felix all but growls against the soft skin of your inner thigh, “Fucking love-”

Your hand flies down to grip at Felix’s hair as he bites a second bruise, this one on the tender inside of your leg. He’s never been this singularly-focused before, and you marvel at the way he’s worshipping your thighs, your waist, his hands roaming your ass and tweaking the fabric of the thigh-highs. You’ve always known that Felix liked your body – he’s your fucking boyfriend, after all. But this…

“Felix, I can’t,” you whine, “I need you, I need…”

“Oh, believe me,” Felix says, “I need it more.”

He draws away from you to push and kick his sweats and underwear off, and you watch hungrily as his cock bobs free, painfully hard and already leaking precome.

“You want – like this?” you ask, as Felix drops back on top of you, the head of his cock already nudging up against your pussy.

Felix likes it from behind, likes being able to grab your ass and watch your back arch as he drives into you. He likes you on top, so he can watch you bring yourself to orgasm using him. This is uncommon for you, missionary, you sprawled underneath Felix as he bends your knees up for better access and strokes his fingers down the length of your legs.

He nods, breathless. “Wanna see your face.”

His soft, honest admission makes your heart flutter even as you swear you can feel the arousal thrumming in your veins. You need him, need him so badly you could cry –

With a shift of his hips, Felix lines himself up and pushes into you. He’s agonizingly slow with it, just letting the head split your walls before he drags back out. He’s teasing you, absolutely doing this on purpose, and you can’t handle it. You untangle one hand from the sheets to cling to him, as he just dips the head of his cock in and out of you.

You whimper your frustration, and Felix leans in to kiss your cheeks, your nose, before pushing back in deeper, and deeper again, and finally he’s buried in you to the hilt.

“So gorgeous,” he groans, his deep voice reverbing in his chest, “You’re so good, angel, so good.”

He has one hand gripping your thigh tightly, holding your leg up beside your torso in a position that tests your flexibility more than a little bit. The other hand is digging into the curve of your hip, hard enough that you think there will be bruises.

Felix has those dancers’ hips, and core strength that lets him drive into you like he’s doing now, smooth long strokes that you arch up to meet as well as you can in his grip. He’s holding you at an angle that lets his pelvis grind against your clit every time he bottoms out. It’s not enough stimulation to let you finish, but it’s more than enough to drive you out of your mind.

“Lix, Lix, please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for.

He says something, quiet enough that you can’t really pick it up, and when you move your hand from his dip of his spine to the back of his head, Felix fixes his gaze right on you. He’s still speaking, rambling in his deep voice.  

“-Let a fucking app make you think you’re not perfect cuz their fucking jeans don’t fit you,” he’s saying, “So soft, so pretty, like fuckin’ heaven, look at you.”

You can’t look at yourself all that well, but you can look at Felix, glance down to see the way he’s burying his cock in you again and again, holding himself up to look you in the eye as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Perfect,” he swears, “Taking me like a dream, angel…”

He’s never this vocal, either, and the talk has your head spinning almost as much as the brutal pace he’s maintaining. You can hear the obscene sound of your wetness around him. The desperate, weak first stirrings of an orgasm are starting to creep up on you, but you know yourself. You’re going to need more than this to finish.

Even so, you clench around Felix as he works himself into you again, and again, and he laughs breathlessly at the feeling of it.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” Felix asks, low and sweet.

You shake your head desperately, “Not enough – Lix, please, I need-”

“Not enough?” he echoes, amused, as his hips snap against yours in perfect time, “What, is this not good enough for you, angel?”

“So good, so good, just, please,” you whine.

Felix doesn’t answer you, but he does let go of your leg to bring his fingers up to your face. You’re so far gone, so hazy with lust and the orgasm that’s building but just isn’t close enough, that you barely notice him until his fingers are pressing at your lips.

He has small, beautiful hands, and you open your mouth to let him slip two dainty fingers into your mouth. You suck on the digits, knowing how much Felix likes having your mouth on him, or his on you. He’s not picky, as long as someone is licking, biting, sucking…

“So dirty,” he sighs.

Only for him, you think to yourself. You can’t summon the words to say to him out loud, but you certainly think them. Only for him.

“Don’t hold back on me now, angel,” Felix says.

He retrieves his fingers from your mouth, and snakes his hand down between your bodies to press them feather-light to your clit. You can’t help the gasp that escapes from you as he touches you, gentle and precise. The slide would have been wet and easy enough even without the extra help, but the combination of your saliva and your wetness as it seeps out around Felix’s thick cock makes his fingers glide over your clit with friction so good it’s almost painful.

Under your breath, almost like a prayer, you’re murmuring, chanting, “Please, please, please, please, oh-”

“You first,” he says, “Come on, are you gonna give me one?”

You want to, God, do you want to. You writhe in his hold, torn between rocking away from the steady delicious pressure on your clit and into the press of his cock splitting you open. Felix throws his head back as you tremble around him - your peak is so close you can fucking taste it - and groans.

“Love you,” Felix gasps, “Shit, love you, love your body-”

That’s what does it.

That view, Felix above you, so fucked out, working so hard to make you feel good. Physically and mentally, that’s what he’s trying to do. He saw you being upset for like fifteen minutes the other day and he’s putting in all this effort to build you up. He just wants you to feel good –

“Felix!”

His name passes your lips, just once, before you’re cumming hard with a strangled moan. Felix fucks into you hard once, twice, and then thrusts into you fully with a cry of his own as he cums against your walls. He’s quick to drop down and meet your lips in a messy kiss, pressing your bodies together, skin on skin.

The two of you shudder and murmur your way through your orgasms, as you marvel at how quickly he was able to bring you crashing right over the peak with him.

Once your voice comes back to you, all your can manage is another squeaking, “Felix.”

“Yeah,” he answers, decisive, like you’ve just revealed the secrets of the universe to him. “Yeah.”

He pulls out and gingerly moves off of you, but not without stroking his hands from your waist all the way down your thighs as he goes. You laugh quietly as Felix collapses onto his back beside you, wiping his brow dramatically like he’s just gotten off a hard day at work. His cum begins to drip back out of you as you sit up, which is gross, but you just want to be close to him. You curl against his side, head on his chest, and Felix accommodates you easily, cuddling into you just as eagerly.

As you readjust on the bed, settle into a more comfortable position, you notice the bruises. Tender new bruises on your hip, and along the side of your thigh where Felix had held you so tightly. It’s the perfect shape of his fingertips, fanning out along your skin.

“Jeez,” you murmur, touching the spots and secretly relishing the way they hurt.

“Sorry,” Felix grins, though he doesn’t look very sorry at all. “Just…your thighs. Your body. Love it.”

[lefinohohohohon]

DCKZ (Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli) Idol!AU Genshin Impact

DCKZ HOW THE GROUP WAS FORMED:

DCKZ is a fanmade k-pop group based on Genshin Impacts's character " Diluc, Childe. Kaeya, and Zhongli as an idol group in an Idol AU.

Character design belongs to @veechu (please check it out and give them love)

Some of the headcanons I used for references came from Erica's comment on "ventiffin"'s youtube video: 

Link: (195) Pov: 4NEMO & DCKZ are having a rap battle | a playlist - YouTube

and Yajle Gaite on riko's youtube playlist: (196) attending a dckz concert – a genshin playlist - YouTube

P.S Diluc & Kaeya's part is longer since their together.

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Childe:

Ajax or as he was known currently with his fans because of his various song covers "Tartaglia" had just finished tidying up his recording room to attend his practice session at the gym for MMA, as he was placing his spare clothes on his duffle bag, he took a quick swipe at his phone buzzing with notification at his latest cover.

A sweet genuine smile carved at Childe's face as he reads a thousand messages on his post as he was savoring the joyful and thirsty comments as well as memes about him a message from an unknown sender appeared on his screen curious, Childe tap on the email sent to him when he reads who was the sender he was both thrilled at the same time skeptical. 

'This couldn't possibly be true, can't it? No way?'

he thought to himself, eyes wide open, body shaking of nervousness and excitement. He took the hand that had covered his mouth in a shock away and took a deep breath gulping down a breath he had not noticed he was holding

"Okay, Ajax just chill. .  . just chill man, you still don't know what the message is about don't get ahead, Oh Tsaritsa what should I do?" he told himself and slowly exhaled before continuing to read the rest of the content

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"Greetings, Tartaglia!

On behalf of Geo Ent. we would like to express our desire to have you as one of our new talents. Currently, Geo Ent. has been looking for new trainees for a new idol group, your recent crack cover had made the Geo ent. scout you, the company believes that with your talents and charisma you will be a great asset to Geo ent as one of its rising stars.

If you have any clarifications regarding our offer, you may call us at XXXX- XXX-XXXX  or email us with this email address at any given time and if you prefer to personally talk you may visit us at "Golden Pavilion, Liyue" we will cover your travel expense and accommodation for the duration of your stay regarding our offer. 

Thank you and we hope your decision will be in our favor. We are looking forward to hearing from you soon!

Sincerely,

Katherine

Geo Ent.

Talent Scout Manager

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A scream from his room interrupted Ajax's family, everyone looked atop the stairs as heavy footsteps hastily descend upon the living room where everyone was eating snacks, Ajax who was still ecstatic at the email he had received hugged his siblings tightly and kissed his mother on the cheek before taking Teucer his younger brother and tossing him gleefully in the air  the younger boy happily cried "higher brother, higher!" Teucer said

"Hahaha, of course, anything for my little brother" he laughed while catching Teucer.

"Hahaha, You're beaming, there must be something good, да?" Ajax's father commented as he chuckled at his son's antics when he gets excited

"My, my you seemed to be happy Ajax, did something happen?" Ajax's mother commented as she continued to watch the brothers lovingly, upon hearing his mother he threw Teucer one more time in the air before catching him and placing him down safely on the floor with their other siblings, Ajax smiled toothly at his mother before nestling down between his mother and father who sat on the sofa clasping each of their hands on his as he breathed steadying his excited heart.

"I received an email from a company" he started trying to assess his parents 

"Oh? From who? Is it a sponsorship from that brand you want?" His mother inquired knowing too well that his son was already famous to have some sponsorship from different companies.

Ajax chuckled, he knew his family will be shocked at the news he was about to tell them "Hmm, better" he teased eyeing his father this time to see his reaction

"Better, huh?" His dad started then a twinkle of surprise resurfaced on his father's eyes as he made a deduction "Don't tell me? Are you serious Ajax?" His father continued as he assumed what could be better than having sponsorship from a company

"They're hiring you? What company? No! wait! don't tell me it wouldn't be any regular company who will message you especially with what you often do. . . so it has to be-"

Before his father could even continue Ajax, answered for him "Geo Ent. invited me to be one of their new talents for an idol g-"

Before he could even say everything else, Ajax was clamored down by his siblings who were listening and his father on the sofa congratulating him.

"Congratulations son! I know you had it in you, especially since you have my face, hahaha!"

"Congratulations! Big brother!"

"Big brother will be famous soon! Will you be cosplaying as Mr. Cyclops too?"

"Big brother is talented so of course they want you to be their talent!"

"Now, now I haven't given them their answer which reminds me I have to call them now to-  uh, mom?" Ajax called after noticing that his mother standing on the other side of their house pulling what seemed to be a bunch of large travel luggage.

"Ajax, dear, do you think these pieces of luggage will be enough for your things while you stay in Liyue, or do we need to buy more?" Her mother probed and all he could Ajax do was laughed at his excited family.

"Let me call them first"

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Diluc & Kaeya:

A selca here, a selca there, and of course a selca of his favorite brother should also be included in his latest insta, though Kaeya wished that Diluc would smile more at his pictures of him, he always looked aloof

"Can you please try to smile at least once, when I take your picture?" Kaeya whined mumbling that his brother's good looks are wasted with his unchanging face

"I would if you stopped placing unnecessary caption on my pictures and for the last time Kaeya, stop drinking! It's the middle of the day" Diluc retorted eyeing his brother's various drinks placed neatly all at once on the VIP lounge they are currently staying at in "Cat's tail".

'He's not going to drink all of this, is he?'

Diluc thought to himself innocently before his brows started scrunching a moment later at the possibility of it happening, after all this is Kaeya he was talking about, his self-proclaimed wine/alcohol-connoisseur brother Kaeya.

He sighed exasperatedly plopping his head on the velvet backrest of the chair he is currently sitting on his back facing his brother 

"Why am I with you again?" He asked out loud asking himself more than his brother who he accompanied, he often wonders to himself what made him go along with Kaeya's wine tasting adventure despite disliking alcohol himself. 

"Because you're my big brother and you love me and despite your nagging, you wanted to make sure I enjoy what I'm doing safely- does that answer your question"

"Yeah, that's right because I care too much about you that's what big brothers do" Diluc mumbled back while patting a cat on his lap that has somehow managed to make it thru their private lounge.  Kaeya grinned all too knowingly at his brother recording their conversation live secretly to his followers on insta with the camera facing his brother's back, he's sure Diluc will kill him if he saw what he was doing but for now, while he's still alive, he'll savor his brother's words. He might be too mischievous but he sincerely appreciates Diluc's love for him despite their constant petty fights.

"Kaeya, just promise me you won't- huh?" Just as Diluc was turning to face Kaeya he noticed his brother's phone and his shit-eating grin plastered on his tanned brother leaning one arm on the velvety lounge chair suddenly he felt the want to strangle someone to death.

"Aww~ <3, mind repeating that? My followers are crying over your message" 

The cat who was sitting on Diluc's lap leaped out of the other male sensing the impending danger that is about to happen in the lounge.

"KAEYA. . . . .. . !"

"Well, that's it for now my followers! Pray that'll be alive after this! Bye!-"

"KAEYA!"

 was the last word Kaeya's followers heard before the live ended.

"Please come again!" The hostess Margaret said as the two good-looking brothers left the establishment with one looking aloof once again arms crossed over his chest while the other looked scruffy following behind the older red-head male sighing

"Must you waste good alcohol? I was looking forward to tasting those!" Kaeya felt dejected after not having even a sip of any of the cocktails he ordered, he glared dagger at Diluc

"It's for your own good, I told you, too much alcohol isn't good for you" Diluc sighed not even looking at his brother as they walked to the street, he was specifically trying to find Good Hunters to order chicken skewers for Kaeya since he knew his brother is upset.

"I haven't even got a single sip! And I paid for those"

"Of course you should, you ordered them after all," Diluc said eyeing the shop across from them, he waited for Kaeya to be on his side before patting his brother's back to led him to cross the street, Kaeya huffed while walking and looking at his brother dead in the eye he can't believe he paid for nothing

"But I didn't break the glasses why did you use my card to pay for those as well?"

"To maximize your card limit so you can't pay for anymore cocktail"

"What. . .?!" Kaeya couldn't believe what he was hearing, he won't be able to drink any at all, tears started forming on his visible eye quickly and sniffing could also be heard a second later, Diluc turned to look at this brother with crocodile tears he sighed again for the nth time today

He can be so melodramatic sometimes and I'm an idiot for always indulging him

He thought brows knotted together as he waits for Kaeya to deliver his 'guilt-ridden' lines he often uses at him to get his way, his brother is too good at mind games

"H-how could you. . . I thought you love me as your younger brother maybe you really-"

"-STOP"

". . ."

"sighs* first let's get you some chicken skewers, I know you're really upset even if you don't really show it and when we get home I'll make you some death afternoon"

"Really? Aww! Thanks Luc! You're really are the best big bro! hehehe" And as quickly as Kaeya summoned his tears as quickly as it also disappeared across his face replaced with his infamous shit-eating grin knowing he got his way again, he patted Diluc's back as he quickly makes his way towards Good Hunter to order chicken skewers, he'll order a few to eat at Good hunters and order some more to bring back at the mansion he'll have to convince Diluc as well to give him sparkling wine to make his fruity chicken skewers he's sure his brother wouldn't mind.

Just as Kaeya was placing his order, Diluc sat at one of the open tables on the veranda and waited for his brother when he noticed a bobbed-cut black-haired woman staring in their direction, Diluc paid her no mind thinking that the woman was probably one of Kaeya's follower on insta waiting for Kaeya to return to have a photo ops with his brother

"Hey, Luc! You don't mind if I ordered some chicken skewer to go, right?"

speak of the devil, Kaeya nonchalantly walked back to him all smiles this time as he took his seat parallel to his brother "Sure, whatever makes you happy. . .  by the way" Diluc leaned forward arms still crossed as he placed them atop the table "Kaeya I think that woman is one of your-"

"-She isn't" Kaeya responded strongly as he places one of his arms above the table cradling his chin on his palm looking at the counter to see if his chicken skewers are ready 

"Oh, and how do you know? You haven't even looked at her?" he rose one incredulous brow at his younger brother. It always amazes Diluc how Kaeya can be quite perceptive of things when it's convenient for him.

"Because that woman has been following us since we left the Dad's office this morning"

What?!

A look of disbelief flashed on Diluc's handsome face at the realization and knotted his brows later at his brother's words

"If she's been following us since the beginning"  Diluc emphasized, "why did you tell me only now?" He sighed closing his eyes trying to alleviate the incoming migraine he's about to have, he tapped the table with his finger waiting for Kaeya's explanation, his brother is preceptive he wouldn't be so careless especially since the two of them are well-known sons of the world-famous wine-tycoon Crepus Ragnvindr it is bond that there will be people who are after them either to do them harm or to gain something from their family.

"Relax, she doesn't look dangerous or to be more precise she isn't with someone dangerous though we'll have to verify that once she talks to us"

And just as Kaeya spoke, the woman who had been tailing them stood from her seat and politely approached them 

"Good day gentlemen, may I take some of your time?" she stated with a polite smile looking at the two brothers

Diluc only nodded in acknowledgment while Kaeya gave her his fan-service smile 

"Of course, please have a seat you must have been tired waiting for the right time to approach and talk to us, aren't you? You should have just come forward instead of stalking us, you do know that's a crime right? I can report you easily to the police but of course, that'll depend on your reasons" With a friendly facade, Kaeya warned the young woman openly of what he can do if he finds anything about her intention dangerous, the young woman was surprised and at the same time embarrassed for looking like a suspicious person, well she could understand their apprehensive behavior towards her, she was after all following them since the beginning.

She cleared her throat and offered her hand to formally introduce herself "I apologize if my action seemed suspicious to you Mr. Diluc and Mr. Kaeya it's only for my line of work. I'm Katherine by the way" 

The brother's looked at Katherine's extended hand before looking at one another assessing Katherine's words, Kaeya took her hand first smiling while Diluc just watched, his brother is better than him when it comes to conversation especially to strangers

"Yes, it's indeed suspicious for an unknown young woman to follow and even know something about us, so tell me what kind of job stalks people? I haven't read anything of that sort from the classified ads or is it that the government legalized stalking, hmm?"

Okay, Diluc takes it back, his brother is definitely not good at normal conversation Kaeya's better at interrogating he has forgotten his brother used to be in the military. He should take over before Kaeya makes the young woman even flustered as she was already.

"What my brother is trying to say is to please explain to us why were you following us, I apologize if we're a bit apprehensive with you but I guess you already know why we're like that so if you wouldn't mind, we'd like to hear your reason"

Seeing the window of opportunity to be heard, Katherine immediately blubbered the purpose of her stalking the handsome brothers forgetting the tell them about the company and whatnot.

"IwasscoutingyoutobepartofournewIdolgroup!"

". . . " ". . .huh?" 

was the only response of the brothers

"I-I mean, the two of you are already well-known and has a great number of fanbase on insta, the company was looking for new talents such as you two when we saw your insta stories of Mr. Diluc performing a jazz song on a piano and Mr. Kaeya's guitar cover the higher-ups decided to make an offer to the both of you that's why I was following you"

". . . I . . . see"

". . hmm"

Again, the brothers only looked at her with doubt, Katherine could already see on their heads she was being labeled as a 'scammer'

Embarrassed and unable to bear the brothers piercing doubtful gazes, Katherine hastily stood from her seat

"A-anyway, now that I have said what I needed to say, please excuse me and thank you for sparing me your time, i-if you have any doubts about my offer you can visit us at "Golden Pavillion, Liyue" though she was embarrassed, Katherine made an effort to politely offer her business card before fleeing the scene leaving the brothers confused and curious at the same time, the brothers looked at the business card left to them and looked at one another

"It's a scam," the two of them said in unison they deduced, however, the two of them were still curious, Kaeya was about to reach out to take the business card when his name was called up from the counter of Good Hunters for his chicken skewers, Diluc still looking at the business card left by Katherine gave Kaeya his card to pay for his order and take-away when Diluc was left on the table alone, he took the unique looking card and swiped his thumb on the high-quality bronze gold-like colored business card written on its front was Katherine's name and her position as a Talent Scout Manager and other contact details but nothing about the company.

"an Idol, huh" he breathed still eyeing the card, a longing gaze swept across his handsome face as recalls a childhood dream he once had to be a musical performer just like his deceased mother, he recalls his earliest memories of his mother playing the piano while he sang, his father Crepus listening to the mother-son duet with the proudest and happiest look a father could ever have and even when his mother died, Diluc continued to play for his grieving father, music made it less painful for the both of them and made it easier for them to remember the happiest time with his mother. 

The first time Diluc thought of being a musician was when he met Kaeya, compared before his brother was frail and timid not like the confident flirt and perceptive- bastard he is now. When Kaeya was first brought to their mansion at the winery his brother had trouble sleeping, being plagued with nightmares night after night, worried, and unable to bear Kaeya's suffering he took his younger brother to the music room one night and sat him comfortably with one of the chairs as he plays one of his mother's pieces hoping it will help his little brother when he finally finished playing he was surprised to find his brother sleeping soundly on the chair and since then, every night Diluc would take Kaeya to the music room and make a pillow fort together so they could sleep comfortably after Diluc finishes playing the piano and just like every night Kaeya would be asleep on his part of the bed Diluc would tuck his brother up, however, that night was different someone else has already tucked Kaeya on their self-made pillow fort

"Dad, you're home," Diluc said as he stood up from the chair and made a beeline towards his father, hugging the older male as Crepus knelt to received his son's affection.

"I wanted to come home early since I heard Kaeya was having trouble sleeping but I guess you already took care of it, huh?" Crepus chuckled as he ruffled his son's fluffy red hair"

"Of course! I'm his big brother, I need to protect him, heheh" Diluc beamed at his dad proudly with a toothy smile "Dad, I want to be a musician just like mom so I can play the pieces she composed and also help Kaeya sleep better! Kaeya needs to sleep a lot if he wants to be big as me so I'll play the piano for him every time he has a hard time sleeping"

Crepus chuckled at his son's determination and admired his reason, Diluc was always warm-hearted just like his deceased wife "Thank you Diluc, you're really a great big brother to Kaeya"

For years Crepus and Kaeya had been supportive of his dream of becoming a musician until that one fateful day of his 18th birthday, His father, Kaeya, and their acquaintances prepared a birthday party for him at one of their many branches worldwide in Angels Share located in Mondstadt he was excited not only because he's at a legal age now but because he also received a letter of acceptance to one of the prestigious music school, he knew Kaeya and his Dad will be thrilled at the news, however, everything from that day had been a nightmare for him It was the day he learned the truth about his father's health condition and Kaeya's reason why he was adamant about going to Khaenri'ah. 

That day on his 18th birthday everything changed, the father he once thought was healthy was sick and the brother he thought who wouldn't hide anything from him was keeping a secret.

"Kaeya, why didn't you tell me dad was sick! I thought there was no secret between us?! And why am I only hearing about your trip to Khaenri'ah now? What are you planning on doing in that place?! You're barely legal!"

"sigh* Just focus on becoming a musician Luc, you don't need to concern yourself with me going to Khaenri'ah as for dad's health he made me promise not to tell you because he knew you will act like this"

"To hell with how I act! I deserve to know what's happening to my family. Tell me the truth Kaeya!"

In that instant, on his 18th birthday, Diluc's dream of becoming a musician was left focusing solely on the family business, he also made sure that Kaeya will finish his military training and become an accomplished Brigadier General at such a young age just like his brother's dream. Kaeya's dream shouldn't be compromised because of his family's business, Diluc always thought Kaeya should deserve better but after 4 yrs of only serving his bastard of a brother retired from his position the moment he was back from establishing a branch in Khaenri'ah stating he missed him and the taste of wine and prefers to work as a wine-connoisseur instead. With years apart he didn't even know Kaeya started playing the guitar to fill the silent hollow covering their mansion when he stopped playing any instrument, though they weren't as close as they used to 4 yrs ago, they're trying their best to live as brothers.

He was still reminiscing about the past when he heard Kaeya's voice  near him

"Want to check it out?" his brother probed as he took his seat a platter of chicken skewers placed in front of him and another bag to take home, Diluc didn't answer and simply placed the unique looking card back at the table saying nothing

"I'm curious as well Luc, let's go" Kaeya insisted after taking a graceful bite of his skewer 

"You already said it yourself, it's a scam why bother?"

"Yeah, but I mean there is nothing we could lose by checking it out and if it's really a scam then I could just report it to the guys back at the military, I'm still a military officer you know"

"A retired military officer" Diluc corrected, Kaeya paid his comment no mind and insisted "Come on Luc, let's try it out, you've put a hold of your dream as a musician for a long time now, I've become a military officer just like my dream, Dad's health is alright and you already succeeded in opening a branch in Khaenri'ah so, what's holding you up?"

Diluc sighed, Kaeya is right everything's fine now, except for him, he guessed it's about time for him to fulfill his dream, Diluc sighed once again but this time it wasn't due to annoyance from his brother but rather he sighed of relief of finally letting himself accomplished his dream

"Fine, let's check it out" he finally answered

"Great!" Kaeya cheered "You heard him loud and clear right, dad? We'll visit Liyue soon"

What? Dad?! Since when did Kaeya had been talking to dad?

"you snake. . . " Diluc mumbled under his breath looking at his giggling brother who managed to manipulate him again, he heard their father's hearty laugh from the other end "Thank you Kaeya, make sure Diluc's wish comes true,  alright?"

"Of course, dad, anything for my big bro that's a promise" Kaeya looked at his brother adoringly as he told their father however before Kaeya could end the call, Diluc took his phone and left a clear declaration of his new dream and goal. 

"Don't worry Dad, I'll make sure to fulfill my dream- becoming a musician along with my little brother"

"what. . . ? Why am I involve in this?" Kaeya whispered over the phone

"Because I've had a different dream this time, performing with you, didn't you say you'd do anything for your big bro?" Diluc stated as a matter of factly "Or are you just saying that, maybe you never meant it and hated your big bro-"

"-Alright! Fine I'll audition with you" Kaeya couldn't believe Diluc copied his guilt-ridden strategy, he should be more careful now around his brother until now he only thought it would only work on Diluc and not back-fired at him

Over the phone, Crepus was laughing loudly at his sons' exchanged, he was happy, joyous even knowing that his two pride and joy are still getting along despite the rift that had happened between them. 

"Alright, do your best boys but just in case bring someone else with you, it'll put my heart at ease knowing you two are safe, will that be alright?"

"of course dad," the brothers said in unison, laughing at one another.

The following day at the Golden Pavillion, Katherine who was busy checking any response from the talent she had scouted was abruptly called by the receptionist because of a commotion at their company's lobby. Upon reaching the said lobby Katherine was surprised to see a lot of black-suited men guarding every corner of their building looking for anything suspicious when one of the black-suited men noticed her, the man straightforwardly asked her without reserved "Excuse me ma'am are you, Katherine?"

"uhh. .  . y-yes! Why did I do something?" Katherine asked nervously racking her brain for any memory that would warrant her for an arrest of some sort but as soon as she saw a pair of good-looking men walking her way, she recalled one of the brother's threat

"- You should have just come forward instead of stalking us, you do know that's a crime right? I can report you easily to the police but of course, that'll depend on your reasons" 

No way! Is she going to be arrested for stalking Crepus Ragnvindr's sons?!

Oh, God, I was only scouting them, I didn't mean to do anything illegal! 

Katherine silently prayed as the group of men parted to make way for the two young men, contrary to what Katherine imagined of disdain from the brothers because of her scouting, The two looked friendlier than before, the younger brother Kaeya if she remembers even smiled and waved at her calling her but she shouldn't let her guard down, compared to the older brother Diluc who looks intimidating is less of a threat compared to Kaeya.

"Oh, Ms. Katherine we were looking for you!"

"y-yes? H-how can I help you" she answered in surprise, readying herself for any possible threat the younger male may speak

"We're here to discuss your offer from last time, does it still stands?" Diluc the older brother inquired and for a moment, Katherine felt she was dreaming or is this another ploy to threaten her because they misunderstood her scouting them, she was silent for a minute or two before Kaeya probed her

"Hmm, Ms. Katherine?"

"Ah! Y-yes? I'm sorry I was spacing out" she started still frightened at her surroundings "I'm just overwhelmed with. . ." she looked around her and to the black-suited clad men in the lobby ". . . with this. I was expecting it'll only be you two to visit our building" she explained while the brothers only looked at her understanding what the young woman meant, it could really be intimidating to be surrounded by a lot of bodyguards, however, Kaeya snickered despite trying to apologize profusely at the scene they made

"pfft. . hehehe I-I . . . hehehe . . .we're so sorry if that's what you felt Ms.Katherine but you also have to understand our side, you left immediately after saying your piece without any explanation and your business card doesn't even give any hint about your company" Kaeya explained

"WHAT?!" Katherine spoke, now that she recalls she indeed forgot to tell them because of Kaeya's threat

"We sincerely thought it was a scam and just decided to check the place you mentioned, we just took some extra precautions just in case, I hope you understand, hehehe"

"I-I. . . yes alright, I understand, t-then are the both of you auditioning or just one of you?"

The brothers looked at one another, a knowing smile grazing their handsome faces as they answer Katherine in unison.

"Both of us, if you don't mind"

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Zhongli:

He was taking his usual stroll in the city trying to relieve another stressful day at work, he had no destination on mind letting his feet take him when he noticed a bunch of freshly picked Qingxin flowers being displayed in the flower shop, Zhongli seeing the flower made him stood in place, a look of longing for someone was reflected on his amber-golden eyes and for a moment he felt the wind blew gently at him swaying his long tied hair

'Oh yeah? Let's see who sings better? You may have that deep alluring voice but I can sing better than you! heh"

'I hope I can see the two of you perform soon! I wouldn't miss it for the world'

"Is it that time already?" he asked himself looking at the clear blue sky above him smiling although with a hint of melancholy, without another word Zhongli purchased a bunch of Qingxin flowers thanking Hu Tao for reminding him of his wallet and as if the wind were guiding him, Zhongli walked where ever the wind blew and before he knew where he was heading he found himself listening to a sound of a harp playing in the distant the soft melodies flowing in the air made him stop on his tracks and a vision of young woman sat with the harp playing covered his eyes

". . . Guizhong?" he mumbled one hand reaching out to the phantom image of his long-gone lover and a second later he felt himself walking towards her mirage only for him to realize his mind was playing tricks at him again. He stood in silence a prick of pain throb his chest slowly growing to his whole body, he covered his handsome stern face with his free hand and heaved a deep sigh not to recollect himself but rather to shake off the incoming tears in his eyes.

'I really love listening to your voice Zhongli, when you become famous don't forget to sing for me, okay?' 

'I'll always be by your side to support you so don't worry about me '

'you worry too much Zhongli, hehehe I may be small compared to you but I can take care of myself, just focus on your dream you made a bet with Barbatos after all'

Try as hard as he can, the emotions insides him betrayed him and a tear slowly cascaded his face at the memory of Guizhong and his time with her, he felt bittersweet at the memory. He was able to achieve what he wants but the person he wants to show his achievement was no longer with him.

How ironic but we can't all have the good things in life can't we? 

He thought as he carefully wiped the remnants of his tears across his face and composed himself again before walking once again to give the flowers to its owner. 

As Zhongli walked the pavement towards the cemetery where Guizhong's tombstone lies he noticed a smaller male sitting in front of her laughing to himself as he lifts a goblet of what seems to be a wine to the air

"I hope you're happy there dear, our beloved stern-face brutish blundering buffoon finally decided to uphold our bet, heh - though I might say it took longer but don't worry the wait is worth it so please keep watching over him, alright? He's. . . .  well, busied himself with others after you were gone can't blame him, you were precious to him" the smaller male said as if he was talking to a person, he leaned back admiring the clear blue sky a soft breeze of the wind passed as if it was agreeing to what he had said earlier about Zhongli not realizing that the male in question was just standing a couple of feet away from them his looming shadow cast over the shorter male as he approaches and a look of disdain clearly pasted on his face.

"Oh, so I'm stern-face blundering baffoon, huh? Oh, how convenient that there's stone here, you wouldn't mind me hitting you with it won't you Barbatos?" Zhongli sarcastically said tossing the pebble in his hand in the air up-down, up-down like a warning as he eyed the man

"hahaha, did I say that? I wasn't actually talking about you rather -"

"huh, save it, Barbatos" The taller man sighed "though I'm surprised to find you here I heard you are busy with your pre-debut" Zhongli threw the pebble to the ground to the relief of Barbatos and sat next to the smaller male offering the Qingxin flower and a short prayer wiping away the dust and dirt that littered her tomb 

Hello, love it's been a while since I lost visit, I hope Barbatos, Xiao, and Ganyu has been keeping you company for me

 He told her silently before he looked back at the shorter male eyeing the wine on his goblet

"Osmanthus?" Zhongli probed 

"The one and only I know you like this stuff and what better way to taste it on the day you finally accepted Geo ent.'s offer, heheh" Barbatos chuckled as he poured another goblet to Zhongli and another in a smaller cup to Guizhong's tomb.

The two men sat in silence neither tasting the wine and just relishing the peace between them before Barbatos cut the silence 

"Guizhong's case. . . it's finally closed, right?" he asked carefully, knowing it's a sensitive topic to his friend

Zhongli only nodded as he gracefully took a sip of the precious wine in his goblet

"I'm glad Guizhong finally had justice . . . she wouldn't have it if it weren't for you I'm sure she's thankful for you up there"

"I need to see to it that I closed her case, I wouldn't have peace if I allowed the criminal who wronged her not be punished" as Zhongli said that Barbatos noticed that somehow Zhongli was able to find peace- though a bit of longing hangs from his face from to time it's better than seeing his old friend looking desperate and empty

Barbatos sighed, "yeah, you've been busy. . . even becoming a lawyer heheh~ so, I guess I have to be careful with my words now, huh? or I might have a court order"  he jested knowing all his friend's activities in the past couple of years and why Zhongli only accepted the Geo ent.'s offer despite being scouted for several years

Zhongli was busy chasing and fighting the court for Guizhong's murder busy enough that his friend grew a bit distant from his relatives Xiao and Ganyu, that was the only reason why his friend became a lawyer and Barbatos doubts his friend will seriously take any more clients after this case was closed, after all, he wouldn't have accepted Geo ent.'s offer if he's serious about his law career, right? 

"Don't worry yourself, this will be the first and last case I'll handle" as if reading his mind, Zhongli responded clearing any doubt from his friend "though, if you break any contracts, I wouldn't mind suing you. .. . you still recall our bet right? A rematch who's a better singer? I'll be upholding that against you, Barbatos" Zhongli chuckled after taking another sip of the wine

"Of course I remember, heh! And it's not Barbatos call me 'Venti' now that's my screen name"

"I see. . . that's better compared to being called 'Barb' or 'atos', Xiao's also debuting with you. . . correct?" Zhongli asked remembering that his younger relative becoming close to his friend while he was busy with his law career.

"Yeah, we have 2 other members joining, you know Aether from ABYSS right? and then there's Kazuha Beidou's protege from Inazuma, You better prepare yourself Zhongli with my group we'll definitely crush you on our rematch, heheh"

Barbatos or as he would like to call himself now 'Venti' jokingly threatened his old rival to which Zhongli paid no mind and just smiled at him 

"I doubt that"

"Oh, aren't you confident? Lemme guess you're being grouped as well? I thought they offered you an exclusive solo contract?"

"They were, however, I asked them to change it mainly because I'm already old and youths prefer something more trendy and younger appearances and I believe we would lose to your group when it comes to charisma and looks" 

 Zhongli finished explaining before he felt his phone vibrated the company number of the Geo ent. flashing on his screen unexpectedly, it was too soon for them to call him regarding the other members. He stood from his seat and dusted off some of the dirt on his pants 

"I'll see you around Barba- I mean 'Venti' they're calling me"

"Don't sweat it, I'll look after Guizhong for a while before I head back and the next time we see each other it should be on stage, remember that, okay?" Venti called over as Zhongli started walking away to answer his call giving him one final look.

When he was finally out of earshot, Zhongli answered the phone the familiar voice of Katherine the talent scout manager greeted him

"Hello, Mr. Zhongli, are you available today for a meeting?"

"I am, what is the meeting all about?" he asked

"It's about your other bandmates, they're here, and we would like for you to get to know one another before proceeding with the formation of your group,"

At her answer, Zhongli saw a young woman was standing beside a plum blossom tree smiling at him the words the woman mouthed made him smile before her mirage disappeared along with the breeze.

'thank you & congratulations Zhongli . .  .'

"Mr. Zhongli?. . . will you be available sir?" 

Katherine's voice brought him back from his trance, he took a second or two before responding a smile evident in his voice.

"yes, I would love to meet them"

[a-purple-lizard]

Could you please do a Kabal x F!Reader

Where the reader hates the fact that he’s in the black dragons but she still loves him. So could you please write something of a love and hate relationship

With smut please 🥺

Swift dragon

Kabal x female reader

[This post is NSFW]

I’m am SO sorry this took so long, I had major writers block with this one. Personally, kabal isn’t my cup of tea, I’ve just never got the appeal to him, but I hope I did him justice.

But seriously, if anybody has any Kabal tips, please tell me! I would greatly appreciate it!

[FINAL WARNING, NSFW BELOW THE LINE]

Cold wind blew through the rugged streets, whistling as it passed through poorly made shacks and campfires. At least a hundred people, including small children and babies, were gathered around the small fires. Their clothes were little more than rags. Suddenly, a woman approached out of the darkness.

She held out her palm, allowing the homeless people of outworld to hastily take the food she has offered them. S/o smiled sadly at the children who attempted to give their food to their parents, only to be rejected. She wished she had enough to feed all of them.

After she ran out of the bread that she handed out, she swiftly climbed up only a nearby rooftop. The air stunk with smoke and human waste. “What’s up s/o? Come to visit me?”

Her heart jolted from her chest, turned around, tackling the man with a hug. He yelped at the sudden contact as s/o peppered his face with kisses. The two turned into a giggling mess as s/o sat up, straddling his thighs. Her smile suddenly melted into bitter resentment when she saw the black dragon uniform. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

“Tell me, kabal, how many children did you steal from today?” She asked coldly, getting off of him. Kabal quickly scrambled to his feet, following her to the edge of the building.

“H-hey! What’s up with that accusation?” He demanded, sitting beside her, his legs dangling off the edge.

“A month ago, half these people lived in small houses. When Kano and his goons started to charge a “protection fee” they were reduced to living out here in the cold.” Her tone held an edge to it. “So tell me kabal, when you were out collecting, how many kids did you see?”

The way kabal grimaced and turned away reminded s/o of a child who knew he was wrong was but too stubborn to admit it. “It's just business, babe. Nothin personal.”

“You’re right, it isn’t personal. Who the hell cares about starving civilians? Not the emperor, not Kano, and sure as hell not you.” Her cold voice growled. “Just business, they’re just numbers to you, specifically check numbers.”

Suddenly, s/o let out a grunt as she was pinned to the ground. Kabal stared down at her, anger in his eyes. “Don’t you put that on me.”

“Oh I’m sorry, is reality ruining your little bad boy with a cause complex?” She yelled, struggling against him, “wake the fuck up, look around, these are real people, like you and me, that you are hurting!”

“Why are you so worried about what I do!? Why can’t you just mind your own damn business!?” He yelled, his grip bruising her wrist.

“Because I love you goddammit!” S/o cried out, kabal froze at her words, grip loosening. The woman below him had tears running down her face, “I love you, more than you know. Watching you burn away your soul like this… it hurts. You’re a good guy, but Kano is corrupting you! And you’re letting him!”

Kabals eyes drifted from her for a second, clouding over with some unfamiliar emotion. The raging storm within his soul was put on pause by a soft hand on his cheek. S/o gave him a weak look. “Please, Kabal, listen. Leave the black dragon, leave Kano.”

“It isn’t that easy.” He mumbled, easing his lower body onto hers. The weight was comforting to s/o as she lifted her head to place a soft kiss into his lips. The man quickly returned it, passionately and desperate. His fingers locked around hers, pressing her down harder beneath him.

Kabals lips broke from hers and latched onto her throat. He hummed as he dragged his mouth across her skin, the rhythmic sound was intoxicating. “No, but I can make it easier.” She whispered.

A startled groan tumbled from his mouth as an knee pressed up between his thighs. S/o could feel the hardness of him through his pants. With agonizingly slow movements, she rubbed her leg up and down. His grip tightened with a growl.

“Is this your way of persuading me?” He grunted, grinding onto her leg. His mouth broke away from her flesh, he looked down atp her, eyes clouded with lust. “Cause it just might work.”

S/o leaned upwards, planting a soft kiss on his lips before pushing him back. The man fell on his back with an oof. Before kabal could even make sense of the action, s/o was atop him.

Placing a hand down onto him, she gently cupped his cheek. He sighed and leaned into it ever so slightly. “Promise me.”

Her thighs clenched around his wait as she steadily grinded into him. He grunted and tried to buck his hips up in pleasure. “I’ll only let you have me, if you promise to leave the black dragon.”

“B-babe- fuck. This is hardly fair, cmon- ah!” S/o slid her hand under her, massaging the hardness between his legs. Kabal seethed and writhed, nails digging into the ground. His eyes rolled back as she unzipped his pants, allowing her fingers to slip in.

Kabal tried to sit up, hand reaching for her breast, only to he pushed back down with her free hand. “Touch me, and I’ll stop.”

Helpless groans and pleas fell from his mouth, turning into moans of pleasure as her hands continued. She rubbed, squeezed and even licked the piece of flesh in her hand, watching each reaction as she did. “Fuck, s/o I’m close.”

Speeding up her movements, he was practically fucking her fist as he arched his back, mouth agape. He was so close only a little more-

Her touch quickly disappeared just as his high was at its brink. The man whined, trying to touch himself, but s/o didint allow him. “S/o, please, cmon.”

“Not until you promise me!” Her hands crashed on either side of his head, staring into his eyes. Her gaze held anger, sadness, regret, love? “You’re better then this, I know you are. Please.”

“I’ll- I’ll only take jobs that don’t hurt civilians, how about that?” He rasped out, at a lost for breath. “I won’t do anymore protection frees, I’ll just do regular old assassination jobs, only for people who deserve it. Bad people.”

S/o frowned, but the heat of her gaze had subsided, she sighed. “I suppose that’s the most I can get out of you at the moment.” Closing her eyes, she rolled on her back beside him. “You better get the most out of me. While I’m still around.”

Despite the threat, Kabal could hear true despair in her tone. She really did love him. Guilt clouded Kabal as he mounted her thighs. Normally there was no slow moments of intamcy, only a deep connection of mutual unspoken passion as they mercilessly merged their body’s. Tonight, that would be different.

S/o flinched in surprise when she felt a soft, pleading kiss flutter on her lips. Her wide eyes stared up as his desperate gaze. There was genuine fear and sadness. “Kabal?”

“Hey, look.” His voice was breathless as he spoke. “You are, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You have treated me like a human being, which is more then I can say for others. I know, I’m a scum bag, I know I’m everything you’re not. But at the end of the day, you love me, no matter what I do.”

S/o smiled up at him, “I try to hate you, but everytime I try, I just end up loving you more.”

Kabal laughed, giving her a smug look, “guess I’m just that good lookin.” That earned a playful elbow in the back. He laughed once again, “ok, ok, I’ll shut up now. I’ll make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” S/o smiled as Kabal started to unbutton her shirt, exposing cleavage as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Yeah.” His lips connected with hers in a kiss. Hands crept down her body, fingertips tracing her skin, grabbing onto her thighs and separating them. Kabal placed himself between her legs, his pants were still unzipped, his problem was out in the cold air.

Kabal hovered atop her, kiss becoming much more heated as she bit his lip, demanding he give her entrance. He smugly chuckled, holding back a remark as her tongue assaulted his. After a short battle of dominance, s/o was declared the winner as she hastily explored his wet cavern.

Ripping her shirt open and unclipping her bra, sliding it off and throwing it to the side, kabals mouth ripped from her kiss and latched into her breast. S/o released a whiny moan, nails digging into his back as began to lick and suck all over. His tongue traced her skin, searching her the right spot.

Her mouth opened with a gasp as Kabal located a tender scrap of skin and began to abuse it. Biting down in it, only to suck it between his teeth. That was definitely going to leave a Mark.

S/o grinded upwards into his exposed groin. The man moaned slightly, hand reaching down to unzip her pants. His fingers slipped past her panties and into her soaked folds of sensitive flesh. He rubbed and slid his fingers around each crevice, leaving s/o a pleading mess. “Fuck... just fucking do it already.”

“As my girl commands.” He teased breathlessly, positioning himself at her entrance. His fingers took hold of her wrist, pinning them above her head as he entered her at an agonizingly slow pace, allowing himself to stretch out her inner walls. S/o writhed beneath him, clumsy moans dripping from her mouth.

He then proceeded to fuck her brains out. He was FAST like, ridiculously fast. Not superpower fast, but it was clear that he was going to make s/o pay for her teasing.

Hands tangled in hair and nails dug into skin as he drilled into her. She early met his thrust with her own, hips slamming hard enough to leave bruises. Neither of them cared.

Leaning over, his mouth assaulted hers, this time he took complete control of her mouth, invading it as he pleased. The two groaned into the kiss as his thrust became heavier, slower, sloppier.

S/o was left gasping for air as Kabal left her mouth, his saliva decorating her lips. He trailed down kisses from the corner of her mouth to the crook of her neck. His teeth met her flesh, biting and sucking.

They were both getting close already. S/o cried out each time he slammed into her, her face was pure ecstasy. “Kabal! Fuck... I’m-“

“Yeah, me too babe.” He rasped out, grip tightening as his thrust became desperate and rough until finally the knot in s/o’s stomach snapped. The two slammed their faces together, keeping eachother grounded as their release washed over them.

Kabal let go of her wrist, his hands tangling themselves in her hair. One hand drifted down to her side to rub comforting circles in her flesh. His chest steady rose up and down, the rhythmic movement against her made s/o relax her body unde him.

The high started to go down as they broke away. They simply remained still as they caught their breaths. Kabals raspy gulps of air turned into a cocky chuckle, “sombody enjoyed that.”

S/o was too exhausted to playfully slap him, instead she just gave him a look which earned a laugh. “Shut up and take me to wherever your staying. I’m tired.”

“Oh, so we can fuck on the rooftop with pigeons staring at us, but sleeping here? That’s fucking disgusting.” That one gave her the strength to slap him.

[justonemorechapternicercy]

If you are still doing the prompt thing~ Types of kisses: 3 Dialogue: 2 & 7 Ship: anybody from Percy’s harem! Thank you!

3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

2. “Shut up and hold me.”

And

7. “It looks good on you.”

Percy had plenty of secrets.

He lived in a world where the Greek gods were real, where monsters attacked him and the other demigods on a regular basis, while still needing to go to school with mortal kids and teachers, hiding the truth from them. He lived in a world, where everybody knew everything about each other, where pronouncing the name of a god would invite that god to listen in the conversation. He lived in a world, where you had to be very careful if you wanted your secrets to stay yours.

Mostly he succeeded. Nobody knew the true extent of his first step-father’s abuse nor the real reason for his blue food obsession. It was still a secret that he could sing, and that he had a big collection.

As in- a big collection of gods, who wanted to pretend that they hated him, yet would do anything to spend a night with him.

(The first one was Mr. D. It was a shock for Percy, as he believed that the camp director hated his guts, but turned out, he was just horny and mad for being horny. What was even more of a shock that how… caring he was as his first. But when words got out that Dionysus popped the little hero’s cherry… let’s just say, the punishment he got for chasing after that nymph Zeus wanted, was nothing compared to the one he got for fucking the Sea Prince before the King of Gods could.

Who gladly took over his son’s place at Percy’s bed, showing him that his past conquests had no reason to deny his advances. Saying that Percy couldn’t walk properly for a few days after Zeus left him alone to go back to his furious wife, would be an understatement. But the young hero couldn’t rest adequately, because his next visitor, just as shocking as Zeus was, didn’t come alone to wreck the little hero completely - Persephone wanted to taste the Sea Prince as well.

The King and Queen of the Underworld changed everything Percy knew about pleasure, sex, and sexuality. Unfortunately, they also had to leave their pretty prince. Percy knew it was dangerous to fall in love with a god - either because of jealous significant others or because it could only end in heartbreak -, but he lost pieces of his heart each time a god left him all alone. Yet, he didn’t want to stop. He craved for them, he needed any god who paid even the smallest amount of attention to him.)

But the secret he held closest to his heart was that he liked to dance. Just losing himself in the music, moving his lean, athletic body to the rhythm of the song. But it wasn’t just the dance itself he was self-conscious about: it was the way he dressed during his dance sessions. 

He liked to dress up in a skirt so mini it didn’t really cover all of his booty. In pretty, lacy fabrics, leather shorts, and flowy dresses. He just loved feeling pretty - but even if he had sex with various gods with different kinks, even if he was probably the most sought-after hero of all time, he still had some lingering insecurities about his body, his femininity, his kinks.

And being a crossdresser as a Greek hero - was not something he ever heard of. (Also, he was afraid of others’ judgment. The Aphrodite cabin was always looked down on by the other cabins for being “girly” and “too pretty for battle” and he wasn’t ready for the bullying he would receive for not being a proper, manly hero.)

So, he only shared his hobby with the loneliness of his room, his favorite plush shark he got from a “secret admirer”, and his pet moss ball. His mother knew he liked to dance, and that when he was younger, he liked to try out her clothes, but she believed that after Gabe beat him up for wearing make-up, he gave up all of it. He didn’t - he just made sure nobody could catch him doing anything not “normal”.

He would always lock the door of his bedroom, put his earphone in, and blast his songs without care for the world around him. He would dress up in one of the pretty dresses he bought from thrift shops from the money he got from selling candies even in camp, and dance until he was a sweaty, tired, grinning mess. He would mouth along to the lyrics of the song, careful not to sing it aloud, jump so high he would feel like he was flying, spin around until the dizziness took over.

He would feel free.

---

Triton heard things… Things he wasn’t sure how to feel about.

On one hand, it was good to know that his little brother was not mortal enough to freak out of the thought of being together with his uncles.

On the other hand, Percy Jackson - the pain in his ass, the bastard son of his father, the pretty hero of Olympus, the boy he just couldn’t erase from his thoughts -, was having sex with his uncles, and two of his cousins.

Which just had to be gossip, right? There was no way more than one god had their wicked ways with Percy before he could even determine himself to woo his little step-brother. Right?!

This was why he was standing in front of the door of the apartment Percy lived in with his mother, step-father, and baby sister, ready to knock on it. He lifted up his hand and hit the wood with his knuckles.

No answer.

He tried once again.

No answer.

Being a god had its perks - no locked door could stand in his way. He just flashed himself in the quiet apartment. Triton thought nobody was home, but the sound of somebody’s movement lured him towards a room, which’s door was slightly open.

He peeked in and for the first time in his immortal life, he felt like he was hallucinating or that he died and went to Elysium.

Because the boy he wanted to make his forever, was in nothing, but a pastel pink, lacy babydoll, hips swaying seductively to a beat only Percy could hear. Arms flailing in the sky, strong, long legs moving fluidly, he whirled around like a pro. He threw his head back to expose his pale, long, beautiful neck, and Triton could do nothing to stop himself from moving towards the fucking tease.

He strode towards his prey and wrapped his arms around those slim hips dressed up in enticing lace. The sudden movement startled Percy, and the fight reflexes started to kick in, but as he turned around to shove his attacker away, he saw Triton, with his eyes burning in want. Percy gulped.

Triton stared at the boy blinking owlishly at him, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, fluffy hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

“It looks good on you,” Triton growled, his hand stroking the hem of the babydoll, close to Percy’s bottom. The boy’s blush ran down from his cheeks to his neck, meeting the similarly colored fabric on his chest. The god wanted to explore all of the exposed skin with his lips, tongue, and teeth, marking him his.

“I…” Percy started, but nothing came out. He bit into his lip, uncertain, but seeing nothing but naked want in his half-sibling’s eyes, he came to a decision. “Kiss me,” he demanded breathily. He pressed closer to the other male; soft textile brushing his smooth legs, strong arms holding him tight, fingers teasing his naked skin. His breath hitched as Triton leaned closer, and his wide eyes fluttered close when their lips finally touched.

The god kissed him like no one before. He felt cherished, praised - loved. The earphone hanged uselessly from his neck, breaking the apartment’s quiet by mutedly blasting a distinctive, upbeat violin solo.

When they broke up, Triton whispered teasingly, “Will you dance for me?” His eyes shone with mirth, but he honestly wanted to see more of the dancing of his beloved. He wanted to enjoy more of his graceful moves, the passion he radiated when he danced.

But seeing Percy embarrassed, red face hidden in Triton’s shirt, the god knew that his Sea Prince was not yet ready for that. But, if he was lucky, he would have an eternity to watch as his beloved was swaying at some melody.

“Shut up and hold me,” Percy mumbled into his chest, and he gladly obeyed his order.

[littlestarofthewest]

Santa’s Little Helper

This was supposed to be a Christmas present for the lovely @verai-marcel​, but tumblr fucked me over and didn’t post it. I’m sorry, dear. Please accept a veeery belated Merry Christmas ❤️️ It was hard to write something for the person who already wrote everything, but I did my best :)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader | Words: 2674 | Rating: Explicit!!!

Summary: You hate working at the mall as an elf. At least until a new Santa comes around.

You have to dig deep into your closet for your costume. You remember exactly how you tossed it in there last year, fed up from hanging around the mall wearing a stupid get up and a fake smile.

Every year, you tell yourself that you'll do better and won't have to do this anymore, but your year has been shitty, and while you hate being an elf, it's a steady gig with good pay. 

After changing in the staff room at the mall, you head out to assist the others in setting up Santa's workshop. Without customers around, you can hold on to the rest of your dignity for now.

Santa's little helpers are a combination of a few new people and some regulars like you. They happily welcome you back, lifting your spirits a little. While decorating the giant slide, you overhear them talking about the new Santa. The old one went into retirement last year, making him the second one you saw come and go. It makes you curious how the new guy is going to be. 

He shows up about half an hour later in full costume. The black belt digs deep into his full belly, a fake white beard hanging over it. The big boots make a heavy sound as he walks, the bobble on his cap swaying back and forth. 

He exchanges a few words with the mall's manager before he walks over with purpose in his stride. It makes you confident that he's not a drunk or otherwise abuses substances that will hinder his performance. There's nothing worse than having to constantly supervise Santa, so he doesn't scare off the children.

He greets the other elves and helps with a few last-minute preparations. You're battling an oversized candy cane that's about to topple over and bury you when a huge hand grabs its top, holding it in place. New Santa is standing next to you, so close that you catch a glimpse at his piercing blue eyes. 

"Careful," he says, his voice a deep rumble.

"Thank you," you say, tying down the rope that holds the candy cane in place. "I feared that one of these monstrosities might finally get me."

"You've done this before, huh?"

His voice sends a shiver down your spine, but you do your best to act calm. "A couple of times. You?"

"Me, too. Just not at this scale," New Santa says, looking around. "Usually, I go from door to door in small towns."

"Why the change then?"

"I just moved here, closer to my brother. My sister in law has a baby on the way, and I'm planning on helping out. Chances are she'll kill my brother otherwise."

"Sounds like a lot of responsibility."

"I'm Santa," he says with a laugh, clapping his huge belly. "I think I can manage."

"Let's see how you handle the mall crowd first," you say in a teasing tone.

He sizes you up for a moment, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "You're going to help me?"

"It's my job," you laugh, "like, literally."

New Santa smiles, holding out his hand. "I'm Arthur, by the way."

You tell him your name while shaking his hand, warmth spreading up your arm and to your chest. There's something so very different about this Santa compared to the others. It's going to be interesting to work with him.

-----

Since you've started working with Arthur, a miracle has happened. For the first time, you're actually enjoying the job. Arthur's great with the kids and endlessly patient even with the most pretentious parents. He doesn't take their shit, but he always finds a way to defuse the situation. 

The breaks with Arthur are nice as well. He's quiet, but when you find the right topic, he's easy to talk to. Over time, you go from joking over teasing to right out hazing each other. If you're honest, it sometimes even feels a little bit like flirting. Still, you try not to read too much into it. The days of working with him are numbered, after all.

After one horrible shift where a kid is dead set on ripping off Arthur's beard, and another one vomits all over his shoes, you tell him to clear out. You and the other elves clean up, and when you finally enter the locker room, it's quiet. At first, you think you're on your own, but then you turn the corner, finding another co-worker half-hidden in his locker.

"What a night, huh?" you say, making him aware that you're here.

"You can say that again," he says, the voice sending the usual shiver down your spine. Arthur appears from inside the locker, smiling at you. "Thanks for cleaning up. I'll help out tomorrow."

You wish you could say anything, but you're too distracted by Arthur's appearance. It only occurs to you now that you've never seen him without the costume before. Without the fake beard, there's still a nice stubble shadowing his chin and cheeks. The huge Santa belly makes way for a nice little tummy that you wouldn't mind kissing, especially to get to whatever's hidden under the tight jeans Arthur's wearing.

"You alright?" Arthur asks, honest concern on his face, so you decide to tell the truth.

"I just realized I've never seen you without the costume. You're not really old and fat."

Arthur laughs, clapping his stomach. "I'm getting there, especially with the holidays coming up."

"Is your partner a good cook?" you ask, hating yourself a second later, but Arthur shrugs before pulling a shirt over his head.

"Nah, I'm single," he says, sitting down to put on his shoes. "Just got a bunch of friends who drown me in holiday treats."

"Not the worst way to go," you say, and Arthur laughs.

"You're right. I really can't complain." He picks up his bag but leans against his locker, obviously in no rush. "How about you? Any plans for the holidays?"

"The usual," you say with a shrug. "Eating, drinking, and staying in bed as much as possible."

"That sounds great," Arthur says, and the way he looks at you makes you feel like you're in a heap of trouble.

-------

"I can't get you all in the frame like this. Move closer together, people," the photographer says.

It's your last day on the job, and the manager insists on an annual picture of the Christmas Crew. You shuffle closer to your co-workers, but the photographer still isn't satisfied. He alternates between checking his camera and barking instructions.

"You there, stand behind the slide. You three on the side, get on the ground in front. And you, you can sit on Santa's lap."

With horror, you realize that the last order is directed at you. When you don't move, the photographer clicks his tongue with annoyance. "Go on, dear. I'm sure he doesn't mind. It's in his job description."

You throw a questioning look at Arthur, and when he gives you a little wave, the photographer claps his hands. "See? Now, the two of you, up here."

He keeps giving orders while you settle down on Arthur's lap, trying your hardest not to put any weight on him. That works for about a minute, but the photographer keeps giving orders, and you fear your legs might cramp up.

"I'm not going to break, you know?" Arthur whispers behind you, and you move around a bit to get in a better position.

It's not so much about not hurting Arthur but more about not embarrassing yourself. You had a crush on Arthur from the start, but ever since you've seen him out of costume, it's been way worse. You've been thinking about him a lot, and he even showed up in your dreams. Being close to Arthur is dangerous. It wouldn't be the first time you did something foolish because of a guy.

The photographer keeps rearranging people, giving you ample time to notice how good Arthur smells and how hot his body feels against your own. It makes you tingly all over to think about certain things you could do together. Without meaning to, you move around even more until you hear Arthur's breath hitch behind you.

You're about to ask if he's alright, but then you feel something pressing up against your ass, and a wave of heat rushes through your body. Arthur tries to shift his weight under you, but then the photographer finally seems satisfied.

"Alright, nobody move!" he instructs before diving behind his camera. "Big smiles!"

You do your best to force a smile on your face while you still feel Arthur pressing hard against you. The photographer lets all of you make faces or wave, every second of it seeming like hours. You wish you could say that it didn't affect you, but the thought of Arthur's dick merely a few layers of clothing away from your pussy gets you all worked up.

Thoughts of you together rush through your head, and you can't help but move a little, making Arthur groan behind you. You wish you could just turn around and make things interesting, but instead, you jump up the second the photographer releases you.

You still feel hot all over by the time you arrive at your locker, and you busy yourself with your phone, not wanting to change now with other people still around. 

This morning, you even thought about asking Arthur for his number, so you wouldn't lose track of him, but that's out of the question now. You just hope he's not one to harbor a grudge in case you both end up working here next year.

"Hey," a deep voice says next to you, and you jump in surprise.

Arthur's standing at the far end of the row of lockers, fidgeting with his hands. "We're the last ones here, but I can leave as well if that makes you uncomfortable."

You didn't notice that everybody left already, but you don't mind at all. This gives you a chance to apologize. "No, it's alright."

"I just wanted to apologize for what happened out there," Arthur says. "It's just that you're so goddamn sexy, especially in that stupid costume, and you were sitting right there-"

You can't believe what you're hearing, but Arthur stops himself, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm not trying to make excuses. I'm just very sorry for what happened, and I hope we can just forget about it."

"Don't worry about it, Arthur. I'm not uncomfortable, and you did nothing wrong," you say, trying to reassure him. "I would be happy to ride on your lap any time."

"Oh, okay. Good," Arthur says, a nervous smile dancing around his lips. "Have a good evening then."

He disappears behind the lockers, and you lean back against your own, swallowing a sigh. You can't believe you said something so stupid. Arthur's a sweetheart, and you totally blew it.

You open your locker to get out your clothes when Arthur rounds the corner. "You said 'ride,'" he says, "not 'sit' on my lap but 'ride.' Did you mean like-?"

He doesn't finish the sentence, but you can't help yourself. "Like sex, yes."

You both stare at each other, and you're about to apologize, but then Arthur moves. A second later, your hands are in his hair, and he cups your face in his hands as you kiss. You end up pressed against your locker, you and Arthur both ready to devour each other. Still, he manages to move a few inches away, both of you breathing heavily. 

"Is that okay?" Arthur asks in between breaths. "Do you want to-?"

"God yes," you say, cutting him off to pull him in for another kiss.

Your permission seems to hit a switch inside of Arthur. He picks you up, and you end up on the next durable surface, Arthur's hands roaming all over you. You reach down to lift his shirt over his head, and while he opens the buttons on your blouse, you run your hands over his chest and stomach.

As soon as you're out of your blouse, Arthur kisses along your neck, down to your breasts. Your fingers dig into the skin on his shoulders as he teases your nipples with his tongue, both of you not wasting any time. When Arthur runs his fingers up your thigh, you pull up your skirt and spread your legs. 

Arthur simply pushes your underwear aside to tease your pussy, and you're getting so wet that you can think about nothing else but getting off as hard and fast as possible. You open up Arthur's pants, his low curse when you pull out his dick, giving you way more satisfaction than it should.

Grabbing your legs, Arthur pulls you closer, and you can't help a little cry when he pushes into you. It's been a while since you've been with someone, and with the way this is going, you won't last long. 

You put your arms around Arthur's neck, and he lifts you up a little. It's not exactly riding him, but you roll your hips to welcome each of his thrusts, both of you moaning and panting.

It feels so good; you wish you could drag it out, but the way Arthur's holding you in place to have his way with you already got you going, and then Arthur does the worst thing he can do.

He's holding on to your hair, his lips right by your ear, whispering between eager breaths. "Dammit, you feel so good. I dreamed about this."

Arthur talking right into your ear feels like someone poured honey all over you, a nice glaze soon covering every inch of your body. You pull him closer, doing your best to get as much friction as possible.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you're killing me here," Arthur groans, sending you right over the edge.

Your muscles clench around him as you come, your face burrowed in the crook of his neck. He doesn't move until you relax and your breathing evens out a little. Still, you feel how Arthur is, so you roll your hips, drawing more curses from him.

"Come on, Santa," you whisper in his ear, "let your little elf please you."

Arthur groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he buries himself inside you with short, hard thrusts. With eager moans, he picks up the pace, and although he seems like he might explode any second, he manages to kiss you in such a tender way that you feel like melting.

Finally, Arthur pushes deep into you, and this time he stays there until he comes, the tension slowly fading from his body. While he's focused on breathing, you scratch his back and stroke a few loose strands of hair out of his face.

Arthur looks up to you with a thankful expression, and you smile. "This morning, I thought about asking for your number."

"I guess we rushed way past that," Arthur says with a laugh, but then he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and hands you a small piece of paper. I usually start with coffee - not this."

You kiss him one more time before you part to get dressed. "I wouldn't mind coffee."

Arthur runs a hand through his hair. "I've got some great coffee at home."

"Do tell," you say, acting nonplussed as you get your things out of your locker.

"Remember what you said about not getting out of bed, just relaxing?" Arthur asks. "I have a nice bottle of wine I could never finish by myself."

The mere thought of spending more time with Arthur makes you all tingly, and you turn around to look at him. "Did you borrow that suit, or do you take it home with you?"

Arthur grins. "Really? Santa?"

"Probably not every Santa," you say, running your hands over his chest before kissing him again, "but I like this one."

-------

For the next two days, you and Arthur only leave his bed when you absolutely have to.

[jackwanchor]

How To Lose Weight My Easy Way Without Hunger.

First, I have to give credit to #idiocracyusa who inspired this after I saw a post about how to judge how to check if your clothes fit. Actually I didn't actually read the reason for his post, but it was a load of pictures comparing good fit with fits that were too large or too small....but I will go back because right now I'm inspired to write about my easy way to lose weight.

For years I was around 150lb and 32" waist but could cram into 30" waist.

Around turning 50, I slowly rose to about 220 lb and 38" to 40" waist.

I really don't care about my appearance, I'm 75 now so I deserve no worries, lol .

But back at the time I dieted, I went down to 190 lb really easily.

Anyway a few years ago, I had been suffering from knee pains, and a routine blood test showed me to have high sugar levels, and my doctor advised that I need to lower the sugar intake.

After doing a sugar reduction, and in the process losing weight and having no knee pain, I found the easy way to diet

Now, my sugar intake was ridiculous, so that was easy to fix. At the time I was drinking about 3 or 4 mugs of coffee, each with 3 spoons of sugar.

I was also eating whole bags of candy regularly, as well as chocolate.

So....over the space of about a month I lowered my coffee to 2 sugars, then 1, then none.

I instantly changed from a mug to a cup. So the taste was the same once I was at a cup with 2 sugars compared to the mug with three. The real lowering was a bit more difficult, because I like sugar, lol. A lot....but by going down to just a single coffee a day, the bitter taste was only one event a day! And after lowering by a spoonful at each step, I became adjusted within about a week or so. I became aware of the lack of sugar, but it became less of an issue. I did a test by upping the sugar one time, and actually threw away the coffee because it tasted sickly to me.

I started to buy only diet pop instead of the regular sugared type I drink it instead of the extra coffees above the one coffee a day limit. Easy. I just changed the sugar addiction to a different product that had no sugar.

Now thats progress. Cutting out candy was in a way easier, I changed to crackers as my addictive replacement.

My knee pain disappeared and hasn't returned even though my weight has drifted back up to around 200lb. Remember now that my need was for lower sugar levels not weight loss. And this is not about staying slim, because that's the difficult part of dieting. I can only tell about how to lose weight relatively easily.

Now, I like to experiment. So, because I noticed the weight loss, I thought about that and I had read somewhere about a Japanese community where heart disease and strokes are almost unknown. And the people are all thin. So I tried their method, and it worked.

I was always simply loading up my food plate until it was about full. So, my first step was to use a slightly smaller plate. I could still load it up. Easy! No mental battle.

But, the Japanese people that I mentioned also had another technique. Its simple to do.

When we eat, we enjoy the food, and keep eating until we feel that we are full.

But here's the trick.....

If we eat until we are still hungry, in the middle of the meal, and then stop eating, the body adjusts to the fact that the available food has now been reached, and there simply is no more. So within about ten minutes or maybe twenty for sure, the hunger disappears.

Another funny thing apart from the lack of hunger, is the way that the weight lowers.

After I got going on the sugar lowering project, my weight didn't lower. No problem because I was lowering sugar, and weight loss was a side effect. But it was interesting. I would pop onto the scales every morning. And at the start the weight stayed almost the same, just fluctuating a little. Some days I was a pound of two heavier, some a pound or two lighter.

So, I applied my credit card debt reduction strategy to the weight. Although I weighed myself every day, I ignored the actual figures except after three or four days.

Like checking my credit card balance compared to the previous months amount owing.

What I was looking at was the trend. If I noticed the weight rising every day, I made slight meal size adjustment.

I basically looked at my weekly weight, although being aware of my daily figure.

Notice that I did not change my food at all, only the size of the meal. I still eat junk processed food, because I like it, and it saves my wife, who is Asian, so eats rice and weirdo veggies that I have zero knowledge of, so saves her the bother of cooking the western food for me alone. She is not retired yet because shes a lot younger than I am. I maintain my position as a spousal asset by doing small jobs around the house, and just being company for her when she has appointments etc. And of course I do as I am told because my policy re any relationship is that each person must be an asset to the other, I could say, serve the other. I dont need to be an alpha male all the time, just occasionally, actually I will admit, although its not about dieting, that during sex is my alpha male time but in small doses each session, LoL..... The hugging is more important..... because it ensures the supply of sex for the next time...... why am I saying this????? I need to get back to the diet....

Ah, yes, the food. Smaller portions. I did try going carb free for a while but its too tasteless for my needs.

Smaller portions, a few changes of food types as an occasional thing, but only if it tastes good.

I did, during the diet enthusiasm stage eat whole meals of frozen fruit. A great snack. No cooking required. Just grab a dish, fill it up as high as I like, ignoring the small serving policy because its fruit. If in a rush to eat, just a quick nuking in the microwave to thaw it out a bit, and away I go.

Summers here just about now, so time to get back on the fruit eating.

Anyway that's my way to reduce weight. Keeping it off is your challenge because I prefer to enjoy life LoL and dieting and maintaining the good portion sizes does require attention. I have slowly returned to treats like chocolate chip cookies,so actually I think that I will experiment with a few adjustments in food types starting after next shopping trip.

Oh, I digressed so much that I missed a point

As the diet method is followed, the weight loss seems to be failing, the weight remains about the same, but then suddenly I lost ten pounds. I maintained my same eating regime and it again didn't change much, until after another few weeks it suddenly dropped another ten pounds.

So the moral is, just keep going and dont worry about the speed of weight loss, or if the daily weight went up, just pay attention if it shows gains for several days in a row, then take action, reduce the meal size a little. A little. Just a little. The only time to make a big change is at the start, after that, its trending that matters.

My weight went back up because I decided to enjoy a few more treats.....but the initial 30lb loss was fairly stress free. I suspect that if I had maintained the fruit amount and no other changes, it would probably be enough to maintain and maybe increase the weight loss trend with just that one item.

Anyway good luck if anyone wants to try it.

[lihikainanea]

sis leiii, can i please have a piece where instead of bill flying back home to be with tiger, she's the one who's flying to see him because he's travelling to film a movie or do a photoshoot or something but he's feeling homesick and maybe having a fever and tiger flies immediately to whatever he is to take care of him, but she surprises him and he lets himself cry when he sees her there?

Oh my sweet, soft Bill. Tiger is, without a doubt, no stranger to rescuing her Big Dude.

And you know, maybe it’s a multitude of things. Maybe Bill really isn’t jiving with the producer or the studio or something, but he’s learning in his older age that sometimes you can’t just...flip your shit and walk away from projects. Maybe the project itself still really interests him, but the people carrying it through are being insufferable dicks. Bill has an extremely low tolerance for people who think they are above anyone else, and if the set he’s on is rampant with egos, he has a really hard time...but he also can’t necessarily walk away.

Maybe it’s not even that. Maybe it’s just a gruelling shoot, one where actors’ unions and the studio are constantly in a battle because the actors are somewhat being forced to go through with scenes or go through in conditions they have no business going through. On Bill’s second day on set, he spent 14 hours submerged in an indoor pool that was way below the temperature it should have been. His acting contract, his union, probably states that he can spend up to 3 hours maximum in the pool and then he needs a one hour break to dry off, have a warm drink, raise his body temperate back to normal and then he can continue.

But the producer was always almost just getting the right shot, and maybe just one more take, and okay that was great but let’s do another one just in case and suddenly, it’s 14 hours later and Bill is shivering, his body temperature is dropping dangerously low, and his lips are blue. The doctor on set finally puts an end to it.

The next day, a cough had set in deep in his chest. One of those coughs that started off small and then just couldn’t stop, one of those ones that ached in your lungs, a cough that had you gasping for air after you just couldn’t make it stop. His entire day was scrapped, every take he did cut short when his breath would catch and it would set off this hacking cough, one that rattled deep in his bones. He was exhausted. He was out of breath. The first week hadn’t even wrapped yet, and he was already wrecked.

Tiger heard it the moment she picked up the phone when he called her that evening--the middle of the night for her. She picked it up and mumbled a groggy hello before a deep, uncharacteristic wheeze had her eyes widening.

“Hi kid,” he rasped, “Sorry I’m calling so late.”

“...Bill?” She had to ask to be sure. His voice was so rough, so strained, and she winced as a terrible cough sounded down the line.

“Yeah,” he wheezed, “Sorry, give me a second.”

He sounded terrible. His voice sounded thick and rough, strained as if he was trying to control it--and his cough sounded even worse. Wet and rumbling, it seemed to go on forever before she heard a soft sip,  clearing of his throat.

“Sorry,” he croaked, “Having some issues.

“You sound terrible bud,” she said, “What’s going on?”

“Just caught a bit of a chill,” he mumbled.

A bit of a chill turned into pneumonia a few days later--and still, he worked. He would call her when he could, but tiger was getting increasingly more worried--she knew her Good Dude. And it seemed that every time she talked to him, he was coming off a day on set that was seeming more and more insane. A night shoot, where he had to run through freezing cold temperatures and snow in nothing but a bathrobe, barefoot--and he had to do it over and over and over again, because the director wasn’t happy with the shot.  More water scenes. More hours spent in subzero temperatures, in soaking wet clothes, already sick as a dog.

Tiger had a feeling that there was a reason why he was sticking to regular calls instead of video ones, and at one point she insisted on it--and it only confirmed her suspicions. He looked terrible--gaunt and pale, his big eyes sticking out of his head even more, his skin a sickly pallor, and he was at the point where he couldn’t even get two words out without either having to stop to catch his breath, or launching into a coughing fit. The wheeze in his chest was even more prominent, there was a permanent wince in his features from the pain, and his eyes had deep bags under them.

“Bill,” she said sternly, “Have you seen a doctor? Are you taking meds for this?”

“I’m on a round of antibiotics,” he brought a pill bottle into the frame and shook it to show her, “But it just needs to run its course.”

“My ass it does,” she snaps, “You look awful.”

“Careful,” he warned, but it lacked all of its usual malice when he launched into a coughing fit after.

As soon as tiger hung up the phone, she booked her ticket to his location. She wasn’t going to sit by and watch this happen. The kicker was when she was browsing her instagram and just happened to stumble across a story that one of Bill’s co-stars posted--a goofy photo of the dude in the make up chair--but there in the background, a little blurred but tiger could spot him anyway--was Bill, curled up in a lounge chair, an IV drip in his arm. Tiger screen capped the photo and sent it to Bill, with a very curt message.

Call me. Now.

Seconds later, the image disappeared from the costar’s stories and Bill’s name popped up on her screen.

“Don’t freak out,” he started, “It’s fine, kid.”

“An IV isn’t fine Bill,” she snapped, “What’s happening?”

“It’s just some nutrients and vitamins and a lot of hydration--” a pause for a gross-sounding coughing fit--”I’m having a hard time shaking this thing, so it’s just to give me a boost.”

“You can’t shake this thing because you’re exhausted and this gig is killing you--”

“I’ve gotta go tiger, they’re calling me back to scene,” he mumbled, “Please don’t worry about me. I’m okay, I promise.”

Tiger moved her flight up to the earliest one she could find.

And listen, when she got there? She gave his agent strict instructions not to tell him shit, but to help her find a way to get into his apartment.  She was exhausted from the flight and the time difference, but she was on a mission--she found a grocery store, was able to pick up a few staples. She stocked up on green tea, honey, managed to find some warm blankets, was able to somehow figure out how the sauna on the back deck worked. Tiger had a bad case of whooping cough as a kid, and she remembered that Granny used to spend hours in a steamed out bathroom holding her, trying to ease the pain and break the cough. Extreme heat was good to try and clear out the lungs, and if Bill didn’t have a fever, she planned on manhandling him into the sauna for a few hours tonight.

She got everything she could. Medicine. Lozenges. A thermometer. A hot water bottle. She spent the rest of the day cooking--big pots of soups and stews, hearty things with a lot of vegetables that would be easy for him to digest.

And listen, when Bill got home in the wee hours of the morning? Tiger was on the couch reading, and she stood when he entered the doorway. He hadn’t seen her yet and she watched as her Big Dude stepped in, closed the door behind him--and then slumped against it. His back leaning on it, his head fell forward and she heard him exhale a rough sigh--or at least part of one, before he started coughing again. Pushing himself off, he wearily raised his head and that’s when he saw her--and he froze.

“But you’re fine eh?” she said sarcastically. The house was mostly dark except for a few dim lights, but she saw his eyes widen and the shock register on his face.

“...Tiger?” he rasped after a long pause. He shook his head as if he might be imagining it, but tiger took a few steps forward.

“This ends now Bill,” she said lowly, “Do you hear me?”

She stopped in front of him, but he still hadn’t blinked yet. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“Tiger...” he mumbled. Reaching a hand out, his fingers brushed her hip as if he was afraid she was just a mirage--but then a few fingers turned into a whole hand, then both hands.

“Tiger,” he croaked, and then he crumbled. Reaching for her, she pulled him in as his knees buckled under him. She caught his weight as best she could, and he buried his nose in her neck. His shoulders shook and he clung to her, and she could feel the rumble in his chest as he struggled for air.

“Okay easy big guy,” she said, “Just try and stay calm and breathe through it.”

The cough started off small as he tried to suppress it, but eventually his whole body shook as he wheezed and his knees gave out. He knelt down, trying to get air in as he heaved, and she soothingly rubbed his back.

“Enough,” she said softly as she patted his back, “I’m here bud, and I’m not leaving. Just try and calm down a bit so you can get your breath back.”

His hand still reached for her just to make sure she was real, and it took him a long time to be able to catch his breath. Tiger held him the whole time, right there on the floor, until he could at least get some air in again.

Once he was able to breathe again, I’ll bet she put her foot down. Told him that she was worried, and that she was there to take care of him--because he was sick. Really sick, and that if he didn’t take the time he needed to heal, that he would only get worse. He finally caved because it was her you know? And for as well as he takes care of her, he trusts her to do the same for him. Halfway through the call with his agent, tiger had to take the phone from him because he was struggling for air again and couldn’t get the words out. Tiger told her, in no uncertain terms, that Bill wouldn't be able to work for at least two weeks. 

And listen, for two weeks--Bill wasn’t allowed to move an inch unless tiger told him too. His fever was too high for the sauna that night, and even though he shivered most of the night, she made sure he was only draped with one blanket so he wouldn’t overheat. She filled him with fluids to try and help break the fever, and when it was a little better the next day, she started working on his lungs. She dragged him to the sauna and sat there with him to sweat it out. He was miserable--cranky and in pain, the dry air burned his already sensitive chest, but tiger just sat there and held him. She held him as his body wracked with heaves, she rubbed his back when a coughing fit took over and left him gasping, and she wouldn’t let him leave no matter how much he protested. Only after they had been in there for two hours did she pull him back upright, take him inside and get him to drink another ungodly amount of water, followed up by some of Granny’s tea. She gave him all the head scritchies until he was able to sleep at least a little, and even then he was only able to with his head propped up against her chest.

It was agonizing. It was the sickest she had ever seen him. And it was a long process--if she didn’t like the way he looked after two weeks, then she wasn’t going anywhere for at least another two. And neither was he.

[thirsty-lakedream]

The Renaissance Fair Champion

The echoes of clashing metal on metal excited the crowds as the two men in the pit fought for ultimate glory. One of the two, a handsome brunette who was barely wearing anything, parried the thrusts of his opponent with agile precision. Finally, with one powerful swing, he disarmed the other man wearing clunky chain mail, his weapon flying across the arena. The crowd could hardly contain themselves as the champion protected his title of blade master of the Renaissance Fair.

The man playing the king of the court waved his hand to address the show-goers. “And the winner of this duel, the fearless knight who is so brave he refuses to wear much armor, Anthony the Strong!” 

The hunk raised his sword in the air basking in the glory. The sweat on his body made a glisten that one may believe he was a god among men, with the skills to boot. 

After the show was done, ‘Anthony’ retired to a private tent for the renaissance actors to take a break after their shows. He set his sword on the table, taking a seat on a stool to strip off his arm and leg guards, the only thing he wore to his battles. Staring at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but get a hard-on with his own chiseled appearance. It wasn’t every day he looked this hot, he could probably get anyone he wanted with this killer body and winning grin. No wonder the people playing Anthony never wore any body-mail, because who would want to hide pecs like these?

“Kevin, amazing job out there!” Another man wearing regal medieval cloth stormed into the tent, happy that his show went perfectly as planned.

“Thanks, it was a blast. Did you hear the crowd, they couldn’t get enough of Anthony.” He kissed his massive biceps.

“You mean you, that was all you out there! Listen, I know you’ve been on the fence about joining us on our fair circuit, but you're the best Anthony we’ve had in quite a while. What do you think about joining us full time?”

As much as the person within loved being Anthony, the Adonis warrior of the Renaissance Fair, he still had doubts about leaving his hometown. “I’ll think about it, James.”

Just then a phone on the table went off. As Anthony read the message, his face sank. “Oh no, my friend just texted me he was in an accident on the other side of town!”

“But you can't just leave. Anthony has another show in half an hour!”

“Can’t you find someone else to play him?”

James looked annoyed but shrugged. “All the other regulars are busy today...I guess I can take over for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you!” The joyful pleas sounded weird coming from such a masculine brooding man.

“Yeah yeah. Just leave him and I’ll be back to put him on.” When James left the tent, Anthony got to work undressing what little garments he had. Standing completely naked, Anthony took one last look at his flawless body. Then began pulling his mouth apart. He continued stretching his face unnaturally, until ‘shlorp!’ The once beautiful face of Anthony was pulled back, revealing the scrawny and unimpressive Kevin inside. He slipped off the rest of the body suit, losing Anthony’s majestic muscles and size for his own stick body. 

Released from the fake body, Kevin posed the empty man on the seat, his dead eyes staring forward like a doll. Still erect from the feeling of being Anthony, Kevin almost decided to stay and become the hunk once again, but his friend needed him. Getting dressed in his street clothes, he took one more look at the lifeless guy, then left the tent.

After a moment, making sure the tent was completely empty, Ethan stepped out of his hiding place. “That was easy.” Both Ethan and Kevin were nerds who dreamed of having the perfect body, but no matter how much they worked out, they could never reach their goal. Every year they went to the renaissance fair, imaging themselves as the strong men who brandished swords and axes and caught the eyes of everyone at the fair. Though unlike Kevin, Ethan looked with more than admiration for these mighty studs. Ethan was bi but in the closet, and over the years fell for Anthony and his confidence with a blade. Whenever they attended the event, Ethan's secret highlight was watching the sword show where his dream man won every time. 

This year, however, Kevin last-second dropped the plans with a half-assed excuse. At first, Ethan just planned on staying home, but he eventually decided to go by himself in the hopes of seeing the champion win again. Then after watching Anthony’s incredible victory, Ethan finally built the courage to ask him out for coffee after. Instead, he found out his crush was nothing more than a costume being piloted by the friend that ditched him.

Ethan came up to Anthony, hardly believing that it was nothing more than a realistic skin suit. “Hi Anthony.” He obviously didn’t respond. “Why should I let Kevin have all the fun?” Ethan knew he didn’t have much time before that other guy would be back to take over Anthony. Quickly, he stripped off all his clothes from his small body and began pulling on Anthony.

As he stuck his foot into Anthony’s mouth, Ethan was washed by a feeling of euphoria. Even though he read stories of body suits, it was completely different experiencing it for himself. Though the outside was as real as a normal person, the inside had this unique rubber feel that hugged his leg in all the right ways. It was even still warm from its last occupant, and the faint smell of Kevin’s musk lingered within. 

Ethan pulled on the rest of the body, impressed by the newly acquired muscles and hung dick. Before pulling on the face, he couldn’t help but admire himself in the mirror. He could hardly grasp the reality of his head on such a stunning body. He had jacked off to the thought of Anthony before, but actually becoming him, he could hardly control his erection from growing an astounding 10 inches, twice as big as he could go normally. 

Finally, he took the misshapen head around his neck, pulling it over his own face. In an instant, Anthony was back, but this time it wasn’t Kevin inside. The veil between suit and real person was practically nonexistant. Ethan, now Anthony, caressed his glass-cut jawline. He always wanted facial hair like this, but could never grow it so rugged. His hands began to move lower, wrapping around his penis and starting to pump.

“You're still in there, Kev?” James returned, looking confused as a still lively Anthony was managing his erection the only way he could.

“Yeah, I got a call from my bud and he actually doesn’t need me.” The memories from Anthony began to flow into my mind, and I realized that James was the manager of the whole fair.

“Oh.” There was disappointment in his voice, envious that he didn’t get a turn as the sexy man. Who wouldn’t though?

“Actually, I was thinking about what you said and I will gladly take over Anthony from now on!”

“Really that’s great!” 

From outside the tent, a person dressed as a peasant called out, “5 minutes before the next show!” 

Anthony finished the first of many fantastic sessions with himself, then he grabbed his sword and put on the few prices of armor. Ethan, now posing as his friend, was ready for his new life as the champion of the renaissance fair. Let's just hope the suit will give him the same prowess with a sword that the previous Anthonys had.

[themurphyzone]

PatB/BatB AU: If I Can’t Love Him Ch 1

Summary: Sequel to Imprisoned and part of the PatB BatB AU.

The Beast knows he’s too far gone, in too deep to ever have hope of regaining what he lost. But one action leads to another, and through a series of mistakes, discovers he may have been wrong about so many things.

Pinky is running for his life. He knows he made a promise, and he finds the servants charming, but he can’t stay. The castle was not and will never be his home. But things aren’t always as they appear.

AN: OK ok technically the disastrous dinner request does happen first (as of posting this first chapter, the dinner request scene has not been written yet but I do hope to get around to it), but I just wanna write the West Wing and its aftermath ok lemme have my angst.

This will be a 4 chapter story, each chapter named for a lyric from If I Can’t Love Her from the BatB Broadway musical. It’s a really heartwrenching song and every time I hear it I just wanna hug poor Beast.

AO3 Link

Ch 1: Careless and Unthinking

The Beast heard music drifting from the large dining room, traveling along the wind until it reached his usual haunt on the castle roof just above the West Wing.

Though he was too far to properly hear the lyrics, he recognized that irritatingly catchy melody to Be a Pest, a song the Warner siblings performed on a semi-regular basis ever since the curse upended their lives.

He should’ve known the Warners wouldn’t leave the prisoner alone in his room to starve.

The Beast huffed, a misty cloud forming in the frigid air.

He wasn’t sure why he said that when he didn’t actually want the prisoner to starve. It was counterproductive to breaking the curse.

And that mouse was far too foolish to suit his purposes. Arguing every order, determined to defy him at every turn, uncaring of self-preservation when he skipped into the castle and announced his presence without the slightest attempt at stealth.

Not that anyone else bothered to heed his orders, despite his higher station, but it was especially irritating from someone who was supposed to be a prisoner.

Surely all his hopes of regaining his rightful position weren’t dependent on an idiot whose head was permanently up in the clouds!

Rage mounted in the depths of his deformed body, and though he tried to hold back, he couldn’t stop the primal roar that worked its way past his throat.

It echoed off the trees, a flock of faraway birds taking to the air to get away from a perceived predator.

He struck the roof with one clawed, oversized hand. Several loose tiles spiraled into the abyss below.

The rush of adrenaline was overwhelming. It felt good to be so powerful. His old body was woefully lacking in strength and height.

He’d never been able to climb onto the roof before. A mouse was far too small and fragile to ever attempt something so death-defying.

Nor was he able to tear furniture apart so easily. But now he could.

Give in, a voice whispered, sweet and tempting and malicious all at once. Why resist your anger? Give in now, and you won’t be hurt ever again. I promise.

Anger was the only emotion worth feeling. It was blissful to not experience anything other than splintered wood and torn cloth under his claws. No worries, doubts, or fears to hold him back. When his thoughts became nothing but a simplistic chant of destroy, destroy, destroy.

Then all coherent thought would cease, and only instincts were left.

But anger was a fickle companion. It would encourage him, drive him forward, yet it would suddenly flee. It didn’t stay with him in the wake of his destruction.

And the guilt came.

His shortsightedness robbed everyone of a comfortable life. Nobody was spared. Not the innocent toddler, not the orphans or stray animals seeking a safe haven, nor the regular household staff.

On that first long, horrible night, he’d promised to break the curse. They’d be back to normal before they knew it, and they’d only remember it as one odd, terrifying nightmare.

But his plan didn’t work. And he made that promise again. Then his next plan failed before he set it into motion.

Tomorrow night. I’ll break it tomorrow night for sure.

For the past five years, he made that same promise every night.

But the curse wasn’t broken. The nightmare wasn’t complete.

Every plan failed. He tried everything.

That is, he tried everything except for the condition laid out from the very beginning.

The beautiful witch’s voice haunted him, mocking him through every waking hour and dream, taunting him with fate-sealing roses and mirrors that reflected the monster he was.

“If you can find somebody to love, and earn their love in return, my enchantment upon your castle shall be lifted. Fail in your quest, and you shall remain a beast for all time.”

The condition was an open secret in the castle, though only the Warners dared to bring up the topic within his vicinity.

He laughed, but it was a harsh, guttural laugh, completely devoid of joy.

Love? How could he possibly love anyone?

Love only brought pain.

As a foolish child, he loved his parents.

Then they abandoned him in favor of the lavish court. His existence was a scandal unto itself, and he was secreted away to a province with little royal oversight.

He let out an ugly snarl, cruel fangs digging into his upper lip.

The harsh, unnatural sound only served as a reminder that nobody would ever love him back. His mind, which once held ideas on how to reclaim his throne and improve life in this neglected province, was now dull and dimming further by the day.

He couldn’t read or invent anymore. His hands were too large for the delicate machinery, his claws ripping apart everything he touched. He barely remembered how to stand on two legs, and the few times he tried, he quickly lost his balance and had no choice but to stalk the hallways on all fours, stripped of all dignity.

Intelligence was all he had. And even that would be gone soon.

Nobody wanted a dumb, slavering, mud-colored beast for a lover.

A chilly wind blew snow into his fur, startling him out of his ponderings. The night had quickly grown dark and cold, the land below shrouded in an early winter. The moon and stars were hidden by thick, low clouds.

He didn’t hear any music. The prisoner had likely eaten his fill by now.

The silence unnerved him.

It was quiet on the rooftop, but without the background noise of the servants working or screaming from the unfortunate souls who were assigned Warner or Mindy duty, it was far too quiet for comfort.

When it was silent, the most unwelcome thoughts nagged at his deteriorating mind.

He sighed, regretting his decision to ponder on the roof this long. But then, it seemed his entire life was just one bad decision after another, so he was hardly bothered.  

Stretching his sore limbs, he carefully gripped the slippery tiles as he descended down to the West Wing balcony. The wind whipped at his cape, and his exposed fur stood on end to keep his body warm.

This body was more resistant to the cold, able to endure conditions any weak, normal mouse would hide themselves from.

He was powerful.

But that thought quickly came to an end.

He lost his grip on a handhold, sliding several inches on the slippery stone.

The brief scare made whatever remained of his shriveled heart leap in fear, and he was reminded that regardless of physical prowess, he was still mortal.

On some nights, being mortal was a good thing.

He took hold of a thick, tangled growth of ivy that crept up the stone walls over the years, so thick that even his sharp claws couldn’t cut through it. The servants had valiantly battled the plants over the years, but there was only so much they could do.

The castle would crumble once the curse took hold permanently and become nothing more than a relic lost to time.

He crept down the ivy to the West Wing balcony, allowing the mysterious, cruel light of the enchanted rose to guide him to safety in the darkness.

Brooding over a rose and making doomed plans in the vain hope of breaking this curse.

That’s all he was good for these days.

Just as he set foot on the balcony, his ears perked at the sound of footsteps within his chambers. He growled quietly to himself.

He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the Warners’ antics tonight. Not when their advice proved little use against the prisoner’s stubborn refusal to have dinner with him.

But the footsteps sounded…different. Lighter.

Not brassy like Yakko’s, wooden like Wakko’s, or clinking like Dot’s.

The Beast inhaled sharply.

No.

It couldn’t be.

His prisoner was an idiot, but surely he wouldn’t break the only rule he’d been given. He should’ve been thanking the Beast for his leniency with the guidelines to follow for his stay within the castle property.

Don’t go into the West Wing.

But the mouse was right before his eyes, still on the far side of the room, twirling around in awe at the torn draperies, splintered wood, and haphazard bedding.

“Narf. This room could use a good sweep. I’ve seen pigsties cleaner than this!” the mouse tsked, shaking his head at the sorry state of the West Wing.

Really? The Beast wanted to scream. That’s your main concern right now?

Never mind that the West Wing was a grim testament to just how far he’d fallen, the shadowed lair of a beast, the broken décor scattered and abused throughout the years because it felt so good to lash out at something without guilt, and his prisoner commented on the mess of all things?

His claws brushed against a shard from a broken vase, and he sullenly flicked it aside. The ceramic remains skittered across the balcony.

Alright, so maybe the West Wing was a little messy…

An odd sense of embarrassment washed over him.

He crouched behind a thick tangle of ivy, feeling very much like a predator lying in wait for unsuspecting prey. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to do anything, and the mouse would just leave on his own.

The mouse picked his way through the West Wing, stopping to gawk at a shredded mattress and pile of ragged blankets that served as the Beast’s bed. He plucked at a strip of fabric that had fallen on the floor, and the Beast growled lowly. His sleeping area wasn’t a spectacle.

It was simply where he woke up from a nightmare, only to find that he never truly left.  

The mouse gasped, his ears twitching. For a fleeting moment, the Beast believed he’d successfully chased him out of the West Wing. But the mouse turned to a portrait in a golden frame, one that had been painted so long ago, in a faraway life.

He’d dragged his claws across that painting many times, when he could no longer take the image of himself as a prince, mocking him with his dead-eyed stare and prestige.

Reminding him of what he used to be.

Though he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it permanently, some part of him couldn’t bear to throw it away. He didn’t know why.

He was tempted to spring out of his hiding place and tell the mouse to get out right now, but the gentle, almost reverent way the mouse pulled the hanging scraps of the portrait up to what remained in the frame made him hesitate.

In the entryway of the balcony, the rose sparked within the bell jar, its ethereal glow blinding for just a moment before it settled once again.

His hesitation cost him.

Slowly, the mouse approached the enchanted rose. The glow was always mesmerizing, always the only beautiful thing in an otherwise dark and ugly room.

Sometimes he fantasized about shredding the rose to pieces and scattering the petals to the wind, so that he wouldn’t ever have to look at it anymore.

But he wasn’t the only one affected by the curse, though he was the one who bore the brunt of it. Too often, he’d come close to forgetting that.

The rose floated just above a small, elevated platform. Five petals had fallen so far, lifeless and dead. More would join them soon enough. The pink glow illuminated the mouse’s unusual blue eyes, which were already lit up in idiotic wonder and curiosity.

With a surprising amount of strength for a mouse so slim, the prisoner carefully lifted the bell jar and set it aside.

The sheer stupidity of that action stunned the Beast.

Then the mouse reached out, fingers outstretched, just a few inches away from-

THAT FOOL WAS GOING TO DAMN THEM ALL!

All-consuming fear and fury seized hold of the Beast’s mind, his vision filled with red haze as he sprung out from behind the ivy thicket.

Protect the rose. Protect the rose at any cost.  

The Beast snarled, ignoring his prisoner’s startled gasp. The mouse tripped over his own feet as the Beast snatched up the bell jar and slammed it over the rose.

For a moment, he feared he was too rough with the precious items. Though no petals fell, he wouldn’t allow himself any relief.

Not until the intruder was dealt with.

He gripped the bell jar tightly, slowly turning to face the mouse who thought he could just barge into the West Wing without any consequences whatsoever.

“What are you doing here?” the Beast growled, blocking the rose from the mouse’s view.

The mouse held his hands in front of his face. “I…I’m sorry!” he stammered.

Did he truly believe a simple placation would work? That he broke the one rule, a rather generous rule, just to satisfy his own curiosity?

“I warned you NEVER to come here!” he snarled, caring nothing for the apology.

The mouse stumbled over the corner of a ceramic vase which had oddly survived the carnage the Beast had wrought over the years. His eyes were wide, his ears limp. He squeaked something in protest, pitifully trying to justify his poor reasoning.

“DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU COULD’VE DONE?”

A roar tore out of his throat. He was dimly aware of a terrified scream, his large paws smashing a vase into jagged shards, and all he knew was the pleasure of unleashing his wrath upon anything that couldn’t fight back.

He only saw red.  

“GET OUT!”

A pile of broken wood flew past the mouse’s head. He let out a ragged cry and fled the West Wing. His piercing scream echoed in the Beast’s ears, banishing the red, vengeful haze that overtook his mind.

Broken furniture surrounded him.  

Downstairs, the servants pleaded in vain for the mouse to stay. A cold wind blew through the castle, icy enough to pierce through his defenses.

The Beast turned to the rose, just in time for the sixth petal to fall.

It had a wicked sense of humor.

The enchanted mirror reflected cruel, sharp fangs as he panted for breath. The portrait’s gaze bore into him, dead-eyed and mocking and judgmental.  

And the twisted black horns which adorned his head were heavier than before.  

AN: I’m sorry mice, I love you, I swear…

No I did not start the BatB AU as an excuse to torture Brain as much as I already do. It’s kinda sad that many character traits of Disney’s Beast and Brain overlap. Short temper, arrogant, a goal they want very very badly but their own vices prevent them from ever obtaining it, brooding, someone they love so much they’ll do anything for, even give up their own desires, but they don’t believe they can be loved back…yeah. 

I tried to do the West Wing justice cause it’s such a great scene in the movie, but I don’t think it translates well to a text based medium. Oh well, you can just listen to the soundtrack, but I think I did well enough with it.

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon back with ANGST at the very last question on part 2. Im honestly not positive myself how im gonna fix it. I have ideas but still. Hopefully this isn't to long.

Rans life at Mizu: For Mizu I've changed it a bit, history is still messed up to a point. But other people like Technoblade, Philza, Sam, Foolish, etc are now included with their own rooms. Ran idolized/choose Technoblade to follow. Followers of Technoblade are the only people in the City (expect for guards or police type people, though they also tend to be followers of Techno) that are allowed to freely carry weapons (after the proper training of course). Ran choose Technoblade because he wanted to protect those he loved and he was always interested in the art of fighting. He had two mentors, a women named Alma, she mostly did hand to hand combat and defense training with Ran, while a man named Fermin was a historical teacher, and taught him the history of wars and weapons more indepth than regular classes did. He had quite a few friends, though only a few close friends he often went to play games with or have sleepovers with (if you want angst, Ran was actually the one who discovered two of his friends bodies and had to report them, forcing him to go back a few times to see their bodies). Im pretty sure I mentioned it before but the brothers had a family of 6! Their mom was Ranya and was a 20% enderman hybrid, their dad was Seth and was a normal human, of course you know the brothers, their younger brother (14 years old upon death/a year younger than Ran) was named Lias and was human, and their younger sister was Memi (10 years old upon death) and was human. Ran was close to his parents, often having Ranya read him to bed and riding Seth's shoulders when he was young. He also baby sat Lias and Memi when everyone else was out, also helping them with homework and letting them sleep in his bed when nightmares happened. He loved his family and its when the murders and sabotages started happening did he choose Technoblade as his idol, to protect his family and seem intimating to whoever was doing the sabotages. 

1: When the carriage finally stopped Cletus jumped out and faceplanted onto the ground, screaming about how he was finally free and away from all the awkward tension. Grievous, Jackie, and Isaac where all close behind, all having a similar reaction. While Watson, Charles, and Benjamin had a calmer reaction simply walking out and stretching. Ran was the last to get out, and he had to be dragged out by Watson, but he fought being dragged out. He grabbed the edges of the carriage and screamed while being forced out. Ranbob was calmer, and while jumping out he accidentally landed on Grievous, forcing his head back into the dirt, who then let out a muffled shout of alarm before immediately getting up and confronting a nervous and apologetic Ranbob. 

3: He isn't the fastest at evaluating a situation, and needs ample time to make decisions. He also isnt the best at understanding emotions at times and sometimes needs a little push in a direction to understand. Also at points he gets into situations he doesnt know how to handle at all, at those times he almost shuts down with overwhelment, and the leadership tends to go to Benjamin for a while during it. 

5: Their healing potions, so they work over time, slowly working with the body to heal and regenerate, so they take longer to fully work. Poitions work generally the same (ingredient wise), but theres more steps. For a potion of harming, first you crush up and gently mix in a spiders eye into a Awkward potion, then put it on the brewing stand for 10 minutes, then after the Poison potion is made, you get another spider eye and roll it in sugar cane until the general texture changes into a more wrinkly and powder like texture, then crush that up and mix it into the Poison potion, put it in the brewing stand for at least 30 minutes, then it makes a harming potion. The process its generally the same for all the rest of the potions, though it depends on ingredients and how long they must stand on the brewing stand. 

7: I'll try doing that, thank you! Cause Grievous is a lil shit at times and encourages  violence as long as its not against him. I know you probably expect a deep answer but thats purely the only reason Grievous encourages it. It depends on what was said to Jackie, if its something that deeply and emotionally hurts Jackie, than he'd likely discourage him, instead comforting him and convincing him if he attacked the person he'll just feel worse. But if its something he knows Jackie can handle, he'll encourage Jackie to beat em up. 

8: Watson went almost everywhere, the only places he didn't go was The End, Mushroom Islands, Badlands, Ice Spikes, and Gravel Mountains (he saw them he just didn't wanna go in them), and thats because he never came across them or traveled there. He has a long bamboo that he uses to wack people over the head with when their being idiots, he has a framed nether star fragment that he found in a ruined and abandoned village (he doesnt know what it is he just knows its shiny and cool), he has some fur-lined outfits from the time spent in Tundras, and he has a book where he records locations of interesting formations he found and just a general record of stuff (how much food he has, the season, days until winter, when he should go on a supply run, etc). When Watson still lived as a kid in a village, he often went to watch the blacksmith (also the farmers, clerics, and others) and when he was old enough the blacksmith showed him how to make a multitude of weapons with different materials. And now he pushes the limits of what he's learned from that and over the years to make brand new weapons. And since I'm not sure if you where also asking about Ran, Ran only went to Plains, Covered Forest, Tundra, Savanna, and Tagia biomes. He has a dagger (specifically a Zorlin Shape dagger) that he took off of a hunter when he killed them, has parts of iron armour (shoulder and chest pieces, with the pieces that go on his shins), again some fur-lined clothes from his time in the Tundra, a selfbow, and also has a book similar to Watson's, but his has notes of potion affects,crafting recipes, mobs to avoid, etc. Visiting the nether is not common at all! Infact no vists it expect travelers or people who get hired to go in for potion ingredients and building supplies. Jackie does eventually give up painting, and instead picks up the hobby of annoying people and just training. It actually goes pretty well, there are rules put in place during it to protect them, but other than that its generally the same as the one played in our world. Jackie wants to vist those biomes because he thinks there cool, and thinks their good starting biomes to vist for a beginner adventure. Yep, Ran says its way to dangerous to go to the nether, especially with almost no one knowing how the nether works. Though actually Watson wants to bring the others into the nether, saying its a good learning experience and no one will learn how to survive if they dont go. Ran still agures its too dangerous though, citing the Piglins and Ghasts as evidence, but eventually, after much begging and negotiations, Ran agrees to let them go. They just need to listen to Ran and Watson teach them about the nether and follow everything they say to a T while in the nether. 

9: Jackie screamed while being thrown, but after that and a bit of stunned silence, he jumped up and demanded for Ran to throw him again. So he enjoys being thrown, and sometimes he specifically requests to be thrown, so he can curl into a ball and slam into people like a goddamn canon ball. Porkius was also shocked into stunned silence, but after he saw Jackie get back up and demand to be thrown again, he just started bellowing in laughter, you could hear his laughter even echoing a bit outside of the Pit. 

10: Then you may be happy to know, but I believe at the end I'll make it so after the brothers have fixed their relationship, their still being haunted by Dream, and eventually the decision gets made to go back to Mizu and face him. Where Dream has actually escaped (Due to a big group coming in, and him being able to convince them to take the Mask with them) so now they have to hunt him down. And when they finally find him you can bet someone (or multiple people) are going to punch him. 

12: He does tell the fishermen about these thoughts once, but the fishermen sadly fail at comforting him and changing those thoughts, so he decides to keep it inside and suffer in quite. Though 2 people do see his suffering, Ran and Grievous. Grievous is debating if he should step in and ask what's wrong and if he can help, while Ran just watches (though he does feel some hurt watching his brother suffer, though he denies it). 

13: They all had a blast there, Charles showed Jackie how to make flower crowns, then they went and made one for everyone else, Ran just laid in the grass and tried to relax, Ranbob eventually joined in with the flower crowns, Watson was telling Grievous all the meaning of flower colors and what certain flowers stand for, while Isaac and Cletus chased eachother around and eventually got Jackie, Grievous, and Watson involved in a game of chase. They did leave after a General battle, as that was one of the things they had to do for Porkius to approve of them leaving. Porkius still wants them back in less than 5 years, though they can take like a year or 2 longer max. Jackie is technically a general, though the general title he has is specifically only for the Pit matches and instead is more of a like final boss title. 

14: Again its very much like a abusive relationship. Ranbob believes Dream has changed because of distant whispers from Dream (only happened while they still lived at the fishermen house which is kinda-close to Mizu) promising he has changed and he truly wants to help Ranbob, and saying how he can help Ranbob be of more use to the fishermen and since Dream did actually help Ranbob at first, he wants to believe him. But once they get futher away from Mizu, the whispers disappear, only rarely appearing in his dreams. Cletus doesn't really help, not because he doesnt care but more because he doesn't know how to help, he knows its a very delicate situation and saying or doing the wrong thing could hurt more than help, so he decided to play it safe. Charles tries to help, though he provides more physical help, like hugs to ground him or showing him how to breath again, while Benjamin and Isaac tackle the more internal issues and do so comfortingly and gently. Making it so Ranbob only notices their actually helping when he starts to do things on his own and no longer has such strong and often urges to return to Dream. 

15: One night when Ranbob is off getting firewood and Ran is off checking surroundings to make sure its safe, the Hunters actually get into the camp and holds everyone at sword and bow point. Ran sees them when coming back and actually, though hesitantly, decides to wait for Ranbob to come back. And once Ranbob is back the two make a plan to rescue them, which goes mostly well. Ran gets shot in the stomach and Ranbob gets a sword through his arm, but other than that they do manage to rescue them. Watson jokingly says how they've finally made progress and that they can now work toghere without fighting now, Ran growls at this and storms away, denying it, but Ranbob just nervously shuffles and sits down, letting Charles tend to his wounds, as Jackie chases off after Ran to tend to his wounds. I really want them to stumble across the Wild West ruins and maybe The Masquerade ruins but im not sure how I'll get them to either. 

1: Haha, ouch. Poor Ran. Nice backstory though. I can only imagine how he must have felt, coming across those. Does him choosing Techno have anything to do with him choosing to enter the Pit? Also how did Ranbob feel about killing his family? We’ve talked about the guilt about hurting Ran and stuff, but about the ones who weren’t as lucky to escape?

2: That sounds like...a scene. Funny, but probably not until a few days after it happened for the people who actually had to go through it.

3: Is Isaac the type to get overwhelmed easily? But very nice to see Benjamin helping out! 

5: So basically just tossing some real life logic in there? Hmm, interesting.

7: Hope it helps! Nope, no deep answer. That’s about what I expected actually. Grievous has that energy, y’know? Also, very sweet of Ran to comfort Jackie. Does he ever get revenge on Jackie’s behalf? He doesn’t strike me as the type to let that go, especially if it actually hurt somebody he cared for. Him otherwise encouraging it..yeah, sounds about right. Gremlin children.

8: Sounds like he’s really been a lot of places! He must know a lot, huh? Also, he just...wack? Cause that’s kind of funny. He watched others beside the Blacksmith? Did he learn anything from them? Ran personally sounds very intimidating. Though if he has potion notes, does he often make them? Is there a particular reason Nether travel is no longer common? Also, would the gang ever happen to stumble across ruins from the time of the Smp? Cause that’d be kind of cool. Jackie’s new hobby sounds very nice, I hope he has fun doing it. How long does it take before Ran deems everyone ready for the Nether? And do the Fishermen also go through, or do they prefer to stick to safer grounds?

9: I bet the first time the fishermen saw that show they were surprised. And honestly, Porkius, I’d laugh too. 

10: I am happy to know that! Well, not the escape bit, but the punching, for sure! You go, guys, punch that neon green slimeball!

12: Oh no. Does Grievous ever step in?

13: Sounds like they had a good time, I’m happy for them. And a final boss title? Is Jackie like a final boss? What differs between them fighting as the general, and as a typical gladiator?

14: Hm, that’s not good. What is good is that he’s getting away from Dream’s influence. Did that have anything to do with the group deciding to head to Subbin? 

15: Well, progress is progress! Surely it’s a step in the right direction, right?

Also, not really a Brothers AU question, but as you may have noticed, I pinned a post of all the AUs on here, and I was wondering if you’d like me to put yours on there too. Obviously, I’d put it as yours. I wanted to earlier, but I figured it would be better to ask, so tell me your feelings on that.

[sleeplessincairo]

[ dating bucky barnes would include: ]

warnings: a somewhat vague sexual outline and a few cusses

///

Him walking around with a notebook everywhere. Bucky got the idea from Steve when he saw him writing new things to his modern day to-do-list, so Bucky decided to do the same except fill his notebook up with his old memories instead; anything he could remember from his life before being The Winter Soldier. At first, there were only a few pages filled but as his life starting to include domestic and mundane-as well as a healthy environment-activities, he started having spontaneous and soon-to-be-frequent flashbacks that, later on, contributed to dozens of notebooks filled with not The Winter Soldier, not Prisoner #56898, not White-Wolf, but James Buchanan Barnes.

You never mentioned the notebook to Bucky nor asked to read it-Bucky was a private person, and you understood and respected that-but you still started carrying a pen with you, just in case he ever needed one.

At first, the notebook(s) was/were filled with solely memories of his past-No matter how insignificant. Whether it was that time the toilet got clogged in his shabby little apartment and had to stay with Steve and Sarah Rogers for a week because he couldn't afford a plumber or that time he lost his shoe in bar brawl and some swanky chrome-dome gave him a few bucks to buy some shoes and a sock without a hole in it. He wrote everything his mind could clearly grasp. But as the two of you got closer, he started filling it with memories he had with/of you because-even if he would never admit it-you made him feel right at home.

You may or may not have stolen his dog tags from the Smithsonian museum just as a reminder that even after all the pain, despair, manipulation, and torture he still managed to be the good person he was all those years ago. He was still James Barnes, local heartthrob that volunteered at the soup kitchen during his free time, that fought a war and lost an arm during the process, that dreamt of flying cars and a future without all fights and wars, that had a soft spot for a certain trouble-attracting boy whose heart was too big for his body.

“Jesus doll, I didn’t know I was dating a thief.” “Oh James, I thought you’d already realized that when I stole your heart from right under your nose.”

Bucky’s not big on talking or directly verbally professing his love, but that’s okay; His eyes tell you everything. There was always something about Bucky’s eyes that were so mesmerizing, so captivating, you could instantly tell how he was feeling. Before you, his eyes resembled a pale arctic blue that were as cold as glaciers-His eyes were hollowed and empty, scratched raw from any emotion but your growing presence thawed them out, they warmed through the cold exterior of what was once The Winter Soldier and reminded you that the hottest fires burn blue.

He does, however, reference quite a few interesting slang choices from the 40′s, which is his own little way of demonstrating verbal affection, ranging from calling you ‘Doll’ & ‘Sweetheart’ to calling you ‘The Cat’s Meow’ & ‘Butter and Egg Fly’

He’s never been very invested in hygiene. It never really was something important for him since he was in the Army and BO was a pretty normal thing, and then he became The Winter Soldier and HYDRA never exactly gave him a bathtub-Not that he was in the right mindset to to care about it anyway-So you usually have to remind him to shower everyday-Not that you mind, it would usually end with the both of you showering together and you having the opportunity to wash his hair yourself.

Soon enough, Bucky gets real invested in hygiene, he starts reading about self-care routines, exfoliating, conditioning, and gets completely hooked. Secretly, he does it because he likes the routine, something mundane and fixed to do to keep him busy.

You’re the only one that gets to call him James. Something about the way you say it warms his heart, he’d focus completely on the way your mouth moves as you say it-It reminded him of the way his mother would say his full name before busting his chops about coming home all dirty but then later ruffling his thick hair and offering a plate of strawberry jam sandwhiches, or how the word was always lurking in the dark corners of his mind like the silhouette of a ghost he couldn’t seem to recognize until you brought it to life.

Him always reaching out for your hand when he feels out-of-place, outside, or honestly just all the time because it helps him feel secure and grounded.

Steve third wheeling the both of you all the time. No seriously, literally all the time. He spends more time in the apartment you and Bucky share more than his own to the point where you and Bucky wonder if he actually has one. 

Steve has a key to your place-Even though, the both of you never gave him a key in the first place-and has a habit of interrupting the both of you or walking in on the worst possible moments.

“Hey guys, what are ya doi-Oh...Sorry I didn't know-Buck, you don't need to throw-Jesus, okay, okay I’m going.”

“Who the hell does it look like I’m doing, Steve.”

Bucky being very insecure about his arm, he even refuses to touch you with that arm-Subconsciously, he’s afraid he’ll accidentally hurt you. At first, he only ever wears long-sleeved shirts and a glove even on the hottest days as if he’d somehow forget that there was a metallic limb under all the cotton, but slowly like molasses he starts accepting it. He starts wearing open finger gloves, then discarding the gloves, then wearing 3-quarter sleeves, then short-sleeved shirts, then sleeveless shirts, then finally feeling comfortable enough to take off his shirt in front of you which leads to a night filled with discarded clothing, the sounds of soft murmurs and reassurances, the rolling of each other’s names off each other tongues like a prayer, and the rustling of the blanket against the delicate movement of your intertwined bodies skin-on-skin, skin-on-metal as the both of you unravel thread by thread in each other’s arms.

Truth is, you love his metal arm, you love the way it’s cool against your warm cheek on hot summer nights, you love the splashes of light that kiss it every morning making it sparkle, you love the soft and soothing whirring noises it lets out breaking the silence in your room, you love it because it’s a part of him and God knows how much you love everything about this man.

Despite being the assassin that killed JFK, managed to get away with it, and mind boggle conspiracists for decades he’s a bit clumsy. He has a habit of accidentally breaking things and later on, not telling you about it.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I thought I developed super strength-and even asked Stark to do some tests on me, but apparently you just happened to forget to mention and explain why the fuck doors are falling off their hinges!"

Losing sleep with Bucky. He tends to have very frequent and graphic nightmares which leads to various panic attacks and the inability to sleep, and you're more than happy to stay up with him and comfort him. Sometimes you’d talk while he listened and watched the way your lips moved or the way the pony tail you had gone to bed with loosened and hundreds of strands escaped the grasp of the hair band or the way a yawn would escape your lips and your hand would momentarily rise to cover your mouth but get lazy halfway, other times you’d lay in each other’s arms in complete silence while you traced patterns on his chest and trail kisses across his skin.

You being his anchor. You holding him tightly and assuring him that he’s okay, that you're here, that you're real, that he’s out, that he’s safe, and many other tender 3-worded sentences uttered over and over again like a mantra until he’s murmuring them back into your chest. 

Sometimes, when he has really bad nightmares and panic attacks you grab his notebook and start reading the memories out loud while you lay his head on your lap and run your hand through his hair in a calming manner until he calms down. It soon becomes a regular thing where you read him a memory before he goes to bed like a bedtime story.

Bucky Barnes is a man who was tortured and tormented for years, a man whose life was ripped right from his very arms along with his very own arm, a man who has gone through a long and unforgettable journey where he has learned to cope, grow, accept, and embrace himself and now he’s made it his mission to encourage and help others to do the same, whether they're struggling with their sexuality, amputation, mental illness, gender, or general self-acceptance.

You educated him about women’s rights because things are a lot different then in the 1940s; women are no longer obligated to get married, cater to a man’s every whim, have children, and other traditional gender roles. At first, Bucky’s very confused and doesn't understand why feminism is so important-I mean, lets face it, Bucky was raised in a traditional society and was later on manipulated to being a bloodthirsty assassin and now suddenly, he can think on his own and his life has turned completely upside down from thinking his own thoughts without HYDRA around to thinking past social constructs and norms so its normal for him to be a bit weary. However, you're there to explain thoroughly about how unjust society still is and how women may have won a few battles but still have a war to fight in a society where they are hyper-sexualized, mistreated, and controlled, and Bucky immediately thinks of Peggy Carter and how the men used to catcall her, how they raked her body with inappropriate stares, how she was ignored and seen as a pretty face, and then he finally understands. 

Dozens of articles about mysterious beatings of assaulters around New York.

His metal arm is decorated with dozens of pins, magnets, and stickers of all the movements he supports. Oh man, you should see him during Women’s marches and Pride fairs, considering all the black he usually wears seeing him dressed in bright colors or a pink shirt that says ‘On Wednesdays, we destroy the patriarchy’. It’s a sight that truly belongs in the history books.

Bucky breaking hold of the toxic masculinity he was subjected to in the 1940s and advocating for men to be able to display their God-given emotions freely, to not feel obligated to put on a tough guy front, to telling boys its okay to cry, to feel, to act, to wear, and to be whomever they please to be. 

Bucky visiting youth centers and giving advice and support to the kids there. Every kid he meets reminds him of Steve, whether its in their stubbornness, taste for trouble, lostness, or the glimmer of potential he sees in every single one of them. He remembers every single name of the teenager he meets and later on, uses them as a mantra whenever he’s undergoing a panic or anxiety attack as well as use SHIELD’s equipment to check up on them every once in a while.

Bucky going to children’s hospitals every week to cheer up the little kids there. He ends up being quite the inspiration and their ‘Favorite Superhero’ for the kids with amputations there and they end up being one of the very few people who are allowed to touch his metal arm. Something about the way their eyes shine with hope and their hands melt at the feeling of the metal warms his heart and his insecurities.

[jaskiersvalley]

Body or Mind

While Geralt didn’t know what he had done to piss Stregobor off this time (hint: he didn’t do anything, but Jaskier did), he was still very unimpressed with the cloud of green magic that billowed his way. Resigned to his fate, Geralt closed his eyes and let the magic swallow him up.

Opening his eyes, things looked rather different. A little more muted, everything was softer. And he was not in the stable with Roach. How off putting and annoying. Geralt looked around. He was in the room at the inn they were staying at. And Jaskier’s lute was in his hands. A closer look and Geralt frowned. Those were not his hands. Fuck.

Meanwhile, in the stables, Roach was watching passively as Geralt blinked his eyes open and promptly flipped out. It involved a lot of hopping about, staring at hands and legs, feeling his own face while cursing loudly and colourfully. Never before had a witcher been so animated.

They met in the street outside of the tavern, Geralt stomping to fetch Jaskier while Jaskier was running to get Geralt. People stared when a terribly grumpy looking bard dragged a whining witcher back into the inn.

What followed was something that an outsider would have found quite hilarious. An argument between a verbose witcher and a broodingly humming bard. The conclusion was that there was nothing they could do for now. There was still a contract that they needed to fulfil.

Hunting the creature is an exercise in frustration. Geralt, in Jaskier’s body, struggled to keep up and keep track. He was so used to seeing the taint that monsters left behind but human eyes couldn’t detect that. And no matter how much he tried to explain it to Jaskier, it took years of training to spot them. Frankly, Jaskier was a hopeless witcher. Which was a testament to how much of the training at Kaer Morhen was not just of the body but also the mind. One without the other did not make for a witcher.

Of course, it was just Jaskier’s luck that they find some drowners. While Geralt tried to grab a sword and charge into the fray, Jaskier was busy running and screaming for Geralt at the top of his lungs. It really was just as well they didn’t have an audience because they would have seen the witcher running in a wild panic while the bard rushed in.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a simple matter of comedic appearances. While the drowners were eventually dealt with, Geralt could barely walk afterwards, he was so tired. His muscles hurt, the sword in his hands was heavy and all he wanted was to sit and meditate for a bit. By contrast, Jaskier was trying to hum as they made their way back to the tavern.

“Shut up,” Geralt growled and Jaskier gave him a hurt look. Which was all manner of disconcerting, seeing the bard’s expression on his own face. “If we’re to pull this job off, you need to at least act like me.”

Unfortunately, Jaskier was hungry and he whined and pestered until Geralt gave in. They sat in the tavern, trying to hide in a corner but the patrons knew they were there. And the requests for Jaskier to entertain and play were coming in thick and fast. The lute felt foreign in Geralt’s hands. He had no idea what he was doing with hit. To him, the only use a lute had was to be smashed over someone’s head in a fight.

“I’m sick,” he said in the end. And tried to give a cough to sell his story. It wasn’t far from the truth, Geralt could barely stay awake long enough to eat dinner. All he wanted was the comfort of a bed.

“What the magnificent bard means,” Jaskier said next to him, gesturing grandly at Geralt, “is that he is tired. If you push him too hard, you will lose out on his voice not just for a night but rather for his entire stay. Give him a break he so deserves.”

A few people grumbled but nobody argued with a witcher. Even if he seemed to be in a frighteningly good mood.

Going upstairs, Geralt stripped and fussed at how the clothes were fancy but deeply impractical. It seemed that Jaskier was having similar issues, not enjoying the battle against the buckles and straps of Geralt’s outfit. Undressing really was much easier when the unfamiliar straps were on someone else.

They still had a kikimora to hunt for the contract. Geralt woke up tired. He wondered why that could be, he had one of the most restful nights in a long time. There were no sounds waking him, no dreams, nothing. And yet he still felt exhausted enough that he went to put on his regular clothes before seeing himself in the bed. The public could never see Jaskier in witcher armour while Geralt was dressed like some extravagant bard.

Picking out the most drab outfit (as if Jaskier had drab clothes), Geralt went down to get some breakfast. He was surprised that he entered the room and the chatter continued. Usually, his presence was enough to bring any room or gathering to a nervous stillness. Even more strangely, the barkeep’s wife smiled at him with a wink and even piled his plates a little higher than a regular portion.

“Running around with that witcher, you need to keep your energy up, duck,” she whispered with a giggle.

Returning to the room, he nudged Jaskier awake who gave him his usual glare. And okay, maybe people were right to get scared when he glared or stared at someone too hard.

They managed to obtain more information on the kikimora. It was a matter of finding it and killing it now and there was no way to delay it. Geralt followed Jaskier out of the village, they made a passable attempt at acting like each other.

As soon as they were out of the village’s view, their demeanour changed. Jaskier perked up while Geralt fell silent. Forcing a cheer and a bounce to his step was tiring. He had no idea how Jaskier did it all the time.

A kikimora was no easy foe. Usually Geralt downed a potion to help him. Maybe two, depending on how he was feeling.

“I really have no idea how you do this,” Jaskier was prattling away. “There’s just so much going on in the world! So many colours. The smallest movement. It feels like everything is super sharp, vibrant colours, I can almost taste sounds and hear everything within miles. Including your, well, technically my, heartbeat. It’s so distracting and noisy. How do you cope?”

“You learn,” Geralt huffed back. Despite his constant fatigue, he was quite enjoying the muted life. Some things he missed about being in his usual body but some of it was a blessing.

The kikimora got the jump on them. It reared out of a body of water without any warning. Geralt hadn’t sensed it at all and Jaskier probably had no idea how to interpret what was going on around them. It was pure chaos for a few seconds with Geralt pushing screaming muscles and reaching for swords that weren’t there.

“Take some-” he realised that Jaskier won’t have a clue as to what was in each vial. “Blue bottle, purple top! Down it!”

While Jaskier fumbled in the bag, Geralt was trying to keep the kikimora occupied when he heard heaving and gagging. Jaskier was doubled over, potion bottle empty, eyes turning black as his skin paled even further. It seemed that the taste of the potion didn’t agree with him and Geralt couldn’t really blame him.

Once the potion took full effect, Jaskier looked dazed. He staggered a little, blinking as his eyes took in the sight. The problem was, Geralt was tiring very quickly. He couldn’t keep dodging.

“Jaskier. Please!”

He could see the swords being hefted up and Jaskier stumbled towards the kikimora. If there was such a thing as muscle memory, Geralt desperately hoped it kicked in about now or they would both be dead.

Sensing a more dangerous foe, the kikimora turned to Jaskier with a hiss.

“Raise your left sword!” Geralt shouted and watched as Jaskier followed his instructions, just in time to block a strike. “Thrust up with the right, cut a leg off.”

He kept yelling, telling Jaskier what to do, how to fight. It was inefficient and Geralt wished he could just charge into the fray and be done with the matter. But his legs burned, breath came in burning gasps from all the running. At least his voice carried clear and true over the sounds of the battle.

At long last, Jaskier delivered a killing blow. The kikimora screeched and collapsed but Jaskier was on full alert now, spinning to find the next source of danger. It was a feeling Geralt was all too familiar with, the potion still in full force but with nowhere to channel its effects. It was quite hellish.

“Well done,” he said as he approached Jaskier who looked only a little out of breath, covered in kikimora guts.

“Geralt?” All of a sudden, Jaskier dropped the swords and his hands flew to his face as he dropped to his knees. “What’s going on?”

Despite his insistence at not feeling anything, Geralt’s heart broke as Jaskier tried to make sense of what his body was telling him. “It’s just the potions. They’re good for a fight but not so much when there’s nothing left to spend their effects on.”

On the ground, Jaskier was curling up, a ball of misery and pain. It was something Geralt was all too familiar with, the burning through his veins like a thousand fire ants marching in unspent rage. It was coupled with a feeling of need, that something had to be done but the ‘what’ of it was beyond comprehension. On top of it all was the terrible stomach ache as the toxic potion caused cramps and the desire to heave it all up even if there was nothing to throw up. Then there was the pounding headache, in time with the heartbeat which was elevated by the potion and the body trying to fight it off. A thundering pulse that threatened to cleave the head in two from the inside.

“Oh fuck,” Jaskier all but sobbed. Tears were leaking from all black eyes and Geralt was surprised that his body could still cry. He hadn’t done so since he started his training at Kaer Morhen. “Geralt, how do I make it stop? Please make it stop.”

The pleading whispers hurt on a soul deep level. Usually, Geralt would meditate, allow his find a bit of freedom from his body while the potion ravaged it. But it was yet another tool that was training for the mind and not the body. Helpless, Geralt sat down and pulled Jaskier’s head into his lap.

“Meditation helps. Close your eyes.”

He watched as Jaskier trembled, could feel him shaking and breath hitching. Now that he had a taste for what the potion could do, it was impossible to ignore its call to fight. And without there being something to rage against, all that turned inwards, the body fighting and torturing itself.

As much as Geralt tried to help Jaskier meditate, it was hopeless. Meditation took a lot of time and practice. To try it while in pain and in a foreign body, it was never really going to happen. Helpless, Geralt did the only thing he could think of that he would like when feeling like that. Slowly, he pulled a hand through Jaskier’s hair, brushed the guts and gunk out gently as he tried to offer a small measure of comfort. Keeping his strokes soft, Geralt kept a hand on Jaskier’s stomach, hoping the heat of his palm would ease the cramps a little.

Touch, strokes, there was one more thing missing. Quietly, with an uncertain quiver to his voice, Geralt began to sing. Nothing as fancy or fun as what Jaskier normally came out with. Rather, he offered up a lullaby of sorts, gentle and soothing to the best of his abilities.

Gradually, Jaskier’s shivering and sniffles stopped but his eyes remained shut. He wasn’t asleep, Geralt could tell as much but he seemed to be between the world of the waking and the sleeping. It was as good as meditation in a way and Geralt relaxed. His song petered out and his own eyes closed. Painfully tired, Geralt cursed the body he was in, wished he could take Jaskier’s pain away. Those were his last thoughts before he fell asleep.

Waking up, the world was as sharp as before and Geralt groaned, turning to look up. Jaskier was slumped above him, sleeping while sitting up, as Geralt had been who knew how long ago. The body of the kikimora was off to one side. He would deal with it later. For now, he had a bard to look after, to ensure he was well rested and be in full knowledge of how much he was appreciated. Everything else could wait.

Sitting up, Geralt ran a filthy hand over Jaskier’s cheek and smiled when familiar blue eyes blearily opened to look at him.

“You’re you again,” Jaskier mumbled and smiled. “Oh thank fuck. How you feeling?”

The familiar aches and pains were almost welcome. Geralt was so used to them by now, he almost didn’t notice what he had called the potion hangover.

“Much better now that you’re not in pain,” he said. It was all too easy to tug Jaskier in for a soft, grateful kiss. “Thank you.”