#Cee tries to write

[wavypotatochips]

Elevator Mishap || Central Cee

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : CentralCee x Female reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : You find yourself trapped in an elevator with a mysterious stranger who turns out to be the famous rapper Central Cee in disguise. [FLUFF/ LIGHT TENSION]

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵  

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HIIIII GUYS omg so much stuff has happened personally in my life but I am back and better!! Central Cee is so fine and I just always wanted to write something with him lol. Its been a while since I have wrote something, so bare with me c': I have no requests, so feel free to send some in! 

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

"I find it hard to believe I'm actually here," you murmur under your breath, a mix of disbelief and disinterest coloring your tone as you wait for the elevator to reach your floor. While most girls would gush with excitement at the prospect of attending a Central Cee concert in the UK alongside their best friends, Stacey and Rosalina, you find yourself unable to share in their fervor. The trio, inseparable since middle school, practically dragged you along when they scored free tickets to the concert, complete with all expenses paid. Despite their infectious enthusiasm for Central Cee, you couldn't summon the same level of excitement, feeling rather indifferent towards his music. Meanwhile, your best friends are back in the hotel room, immersed in making TikToks while belting out Central Cee's tunes. You made an excuse about needing to run down to the convenience store on the ground floor to grab a snack, eager to escape the impending festivities. As the elevator doors finally slide open, you step inside, your mind already elsewhere, contemplating the potentially underwhelming night ahead, especially given your lack of interest in the artist.

Absentmindedly humming to yourself, you press the button for the ground floor before casually leaning against the elevator wall. A brief moment of panic strikes as you pat your pockets, realizing your phone must have been left behind in the hotel room. Before you can fully process this inconvenience, the elevator lurches upward, and a figure clad entirely in black, sporting a ski mask, shades, and a hat, enters. You brush off the peculiar attire, attributing it to the chilly weather outside, but a faint sense of unease begins to gnaw at you as the elevator door closes.

The person does not press any buttons, signaling they were also going to the bottom floor like you were. You tried not to stare at the person beside you, but the clothes they were wearing screamed wealth. You look at their shoes as the elevator begins to go down. Suddenly, the elevator comes to a stop with a shake. You widen your eyes as anxiety kicks in, confused on what is going on. You look over at the stranger, not being able to see their expression before walking over and pressing the first-floor button again. This time, the elevator doesn't seem to budge nor is it telling you what floor you two are currently on.

“There's no way,” noticing the elevator may be stuck, your heart sinks down. The stranger walks closer to you, giving them a try themselves to press the buttons. You step back to give them room. Noticing the buttons will not budge for them either, you sigh and press the red button that signals a representative. A few minutes pass before someone speaks, “Hello? Is everything alright?,” the statically voice states.

“Yeah, ummm I think the elevator is stuck. We also can’t see what floor we are on,” you respond.

“Okay, please remain calm we are sen-,” the voice cuts off.

“Hello?,” you question, “HELLLOOOOOO?,” spamming the button again.

“Lady we can't hear YOUUU!,” You state pressing the button.

“You should stop before you break it.” The voice of the person speaks with a deep British accent, you now know they are a male. You turn to look at him, continuing to press the button a few more times before stopping. You sigh, sitting down on the floor.

“Just great,” you mumble while lowering your head in defeat. You are not someone with claustrophobia, plus the elevator was a decent size so it's not as if you were scared you were trapped. Only annoyed. While your head is low, you hear clothes shuffling causing you to look back up. The man begins to take off his coat and hat, probably also realizing we are not going to be getting out anytime soon. You shift your legs so you are now sitting criss-cross on the floor, your back against the wall as you look up at the elevator's ceiling.

“Don't worry, I bet they will come soon,” the man speaks once again with a reassuring voice. You keep your head up, “I know, it just sucks. This is my first time in the UK and I'm spending my first night trapped in an elevator with a stranger, no offense.” You hear a chuckle, ”None taken. What are you in the UK for if you don't mind me asking?” You can tell he just wanted small talk, and you didn't mind. I mean after all, you are stuck here for who knows how long.

 “My Best friends and I are here for the Central Cee concert,” you respond, continuing to study the French painting that is plastered on the ceiling of the elevator.

“Are you excited to go?,” he questions, resulting in you shrugging,” I don't care too much about him. Nothing against him, but you know, not really my taste.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the intercom and the faint hum of the elevator's mechanisms.

"So, what brings you to the concert if you're not a fan?" he asks, curiosity evident in his voice.

You offer a half-smile, considering your response. "Honestly, I'm just here for my friends. Stacey and Rosalina are huge fans, and they practically begged me to come along. Figured it would be a fun night out, even if the music isn't really my thing."

He nods in understanding, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Ah, the sacrifices we make for friendship," he muses, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. “Maybe after the concert you will be my fan.”

His unexpected comment catches you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily taken aback. With a furrowed brow, you glance down, your eyes widening and eyebrows raising in confusion. And there he stands, Central Cee himself, his presence suddenly filling the confined space of the elevator. His pearly white teeth glint in the dim light, a charming smile gracing his lips.

If your best friends were in your position, they probably would have passed out by now. But you? You simply let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Mmmmm I don't think so. Your music just isn't my type,” you reply, your tone casual yet resolute. You glance back up at the ceiling, your interest clearly elsewhere.

Central Cee seems momentarily taken aback by your nonchalant response. He had perhaps expected screams of excitement or frenzied fangirling – or perhaps even both. But your composed demeanor only serves to intrigue him further. He closes his lips, the smile still lingering on his face, his gaze lingering on you with newfound curiosity.

"Really now?" he questions, a playful glint in his eyes. "What exactly is your type, hmm?"

“Not you, so it doesn't matter,” you respond with a casual flick of your gaze, focusing on your nail as if it holds the answers to the universe. Impatience begins to creep into your movements, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the control panel, where you futilely press the buttons at random.

"Well, I would like to know," he persists, closing the distance between you with a deliberate step.

"It doesn't matter," you retort, your tone edged with determination.

"Yes, it does," he insists.

"No, it doesn't," you counter.

"Yes, it does."

"No, it do—" You cut yourself off mid-sentence, the absurdity of the situation dawning on you. "Wait, why am I even going back and forth with you?" The question is more to yourself, but Central Cee decides to respond.

"Because you do like me."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I—" You catch yourself falling into the same cycle, causing him to chuckle.

"You know, you're cute when you get mad," he remarks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His words elicit a soft blush from you, prompting you to turn away and face the wall. "Leave me alone," you mumble.

"Awww, I'm sorry, love. Let me make it up to you," he responds cheekily.

"Make it up to me by getting this damn elevator to work," you grumble under your breath.

"If you can admit that I am your favorite artist, then I will make that happen," he confesses, catching you off guard.

You raise an eyebrow, turning to face him. "How?"

He tilts his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Say it, and I will make it happen."

You exhale heavily, skepticism evident in your expression. "Why does it matter to you so much?" you question.

He shrugs, smiling. "Simply because."

You glare at him, his grin only widening in response. You decide to humor him, considering his celebrity status and the possibility of connections. "Fine. You are my favorite artist."

He raises his eyebrows, amused by your half-hearted admission. "I don't think that was sincere enough for me."

You let out another small breath.  Stepping closer to him, you meet his gaze head-on. "Oakley, you are my favorite artist. I love your music so much; you are so talented."

His demeanor softens, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. Something about saying his real name seems to have an effect on him. Whether it's your beauty or simply the use of his name, it stirs something within him, making him feel... nice.

You find yourself studying his features, admiring the way his light tan skin complements the arch of his eyebrows and the depth of his chocolate eyes. His small smile draws your attention, and you instinctively take a step back, coughing lightly to dispel the tension.

"Uhm... okay, I said it. Now, do your magic."

"You're right," he responds, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

"YOU HAD A PHONE THIS ENTIRE TIME??" you exclaim, incredulous.

"Yes," he simply responds, unlocking his phone.

You sigh. "Why didn't you say something?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Who wouldn't want to be trapped in an elevator with a beautiful girl like you?"

You open your mouth to reply, but the fluttering sensation in your stomach leaves you speechless. Despite your indifference towards his music, you can't deny his charm.

For a few moments, you find yourself lost in thought, your gaze dropping to your shoes. His voice interrupts your reverie, causing you to lift your head.

"Damn. I don't have any service," he says, raising his arm in a futile attempt to get a signal.

You watch as Central Cee furrows his brow in frustration, tapping futilely at his phone screen in a desperate attempt to find a signal. Despite the annoyance of being stuck in an elevator, you can't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with him, a shared bond forged in the confines of this metal box.

As the seconds tick by, the silence between you grows heavier, the tension palpable in the air. You glance at Central Cee, taking in the way the dim light of the elevator accentuates the contours of his face, casting shadows that dance across his features. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, you can't deny the flutter of excitement that flits through your stomach at the sight of him.

"Anything yet?" you ask, breaking the silence with a voice that comes out softer than intended.

Central Cee shakes his head, his expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Nothing. It's like this elevator is in its own little world, cut off from the rest of the universe."

Central Cee chuckles softly, the sound echoing in the confined space. "and here I thought being a famous rapper would exempt me from getting stuck in elevators," he remarks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You smile, appreciating his attempt to inject a bit of humor into the situation. "Guess even celebrities aren't immune to elevator mishaps," you reply, your lips quivering in a half-smile.

He returns the smile, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "At least I'm stuck in here with someone interesting," he says, his tone laced with sincerity.

A blush rises to your cheeks at his compliment, and you quickly avert your gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thanks," you mumble, "I guess you aren't so bad yourself.."

Central Cee's smile widens at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment," he says, his tone teasing yet genuine.

You chuckle softly, feeling a sense of ease settle over you as the tension between you dissipates. "Consider it one," you reply, meeting his gaze with a shy smile.

As the moments pass, you find yourself drawn into conversation with Central Cee, the topics ranging from trivial matters to deeper discussions about life, dreams, and everything in between. Despite the unusual circumstances that brought you together, you can't help but feel a sense of connection with him, a feeling of understanding that goes beyond mere words.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity but is likely only a few hours, the elevator lurches back to life with a groan of protest, the sudden movement catching you off guard. Central Cee reaches out a hand to steady you, his touch warm and reassuring against your skin.

"We're moving again," he says, a note of relief in his voice.

You nod, a sense of anticipation building within you as the elevator ascends towards the surface. “Finally,” you say, though a pang of reluctance tugs at your heart. Deep down, you wish the elevator would stay broken, prolonging the fleeting moments you've shared with him. In the brief interlude of confinement, you've come to appreciate not just Central Cee, but the person behind the persona, Oakley. As the elevator hums back to life, you resign yourself to the inevitable parting that awaits you both, returning to the separate paths your lives had veered from.

Central Cee begins to adjust his attire, meticulously covering his features with the ski mask and glasses, returning to his "disguise". “Don't worry," you assure him, offering a small smile, "I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. It'll be our little secret.” Before he can respond, the elevator doors glide open, ushering in a flood of light and fresh air. Eager to break free from the confines of the elevator, you step out quickly, wary of being trapped again.

“Hey,” Central Cee calls out to you, his voice laced with a hint of concern, “I’ll see you tomorrow,yeah?” A flicker of something indefinable passes between you, a silent understanding that transcends words. Though you yearn for a deeper connection, you suppress the urge, unsure of what you truly desire. With a small smile, you nod in acknowledgement, “Yeah.”

As you both walk away, your steps leading you in opposite directions, you can't help but feel a sense of resonance, a shared moment that binds you together in thought. Despite the divergence of your paths and the separation of your lives, in that fleeting instant, your minds are aligned, fixated on each other, entwined in a momentary bond that defies explanation.

[lawsvalentine]

Hey I have a hard time finding stories of the monster trio + Law finding out that their s/o is pregnant. So if you could write one for each that would be amazing.🥹🙏 it be a sfw story

Cee’s note: Yay! My first request AHHH!!! And sure thing love 💓

They Find Out You’re Pregnant • Monster Trio + Law HC • (SFW)

Pregnant!reader

CW: Pregnancy, Fluff

Luffy

Luffy noticed something was off about you but couldn’t put his finger on it

You were going to the bathroom more frequently and you couldn’t stomach most of the food Sanji served without vomiting

He had Chopper take a look at you worried you might be sick

When Chopper reassured that you weren’t sick relief washed over you two only to be replaced by shock when Chopper reveals that you are pregnant

Luffy stares for a few moments blinking before a big toothy grin spreads across his face. He gives you a big hug can’t containing his excitement.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t kinda scared when Chopper dropped the bomb but Luffy’s excitement and joy was contagious slowly easing the fears you had

From that moment on, Luffy is extra careful with you. Always keeping you on the ship out of harms way and has either Zoro or Sanji stay with you.

Definitely takes advantage of your pregnancy cravings to get more food from Sanji

He loves to kiss and cuddle your round tummy and even talks to it

“Hey little baby, your dad is gonna be king of the pirates hehehe”

When you went into labor, he was right by your side holding your hand and comforting you while chopper delivered the baby

Luffy is overjoyed holding his child in his arms and absolutely falls in love with them.

Looking down at the precious being, he can’t help but make a silent vow to always protect them at any cost

Zoro

You actually found out you were pregnant before he did. Your period never came causing you to visit Chopper and well and behold you were indeed pregnant

You didn’t know how or when would be the right time to tell Zoro until one day you ended up blurting it randomly when he tried offering you some sake

The gif above was his exact reaction. Zoro couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. He was lowkey panicking on the inside

You started to feel like maybe Zoro didn’t want to have this kid with you when you saw his face. You started to tear up, causing Zoro to snap out of his inner thoughts

He immediately held you close to him, peppering your face with kisses and starts to reassure you.

“Babe don’t cry, of course I want to have this baby”

He is so protective of you. Literally carries you everywhere and doesn’t allow you to lift anything by yourself. Absolutely refuses to leave your side, no matter how much you tell him you’ll be fine.

Gives you foot rubs and leg massages whenever your body starts to feel sore

Loves to lay with you and gently rub your tummy

He felt the baby kick and he just looked astonished that there really was a little person growing inside you. Now he hopes he feels a kick every time he rubs your stomach

Was nervous asf when you went into labor, but didn’t let it show for your sake. You squeezed the hell out of this man’s hand but it’s okay he’s a big boy he can handle it lol

When your child was finally born, you could have sworn you saw Zoro’s eyes glossy (he will deny it with every fiber of his being lol)

He already is planning to train them to become a great swordsmen like their father

Sanji

You have been vomiting a lot whenever Sanji made you food. He took notice and was immediately concerned about you.

He took you to Chopper and he gives you the big news that you are now pregnant

Oh boy, you just made this man the happiest man alive

He is over the moon that his darling Y/N is now carrying his child. He had already wanted to start a family with you and settle down so this was a dream come true for him

Sanji is going to spoil you 10x more now because you’re pregnant. Whatever you desire, you shall receive it.

Sanji secretly hopes the baby is a girl, but will love the baby just as much if it is a boy

Sanji promises he will never be like his father, he will cherish and give this child unconditional love that he was robbed of from his childhood.

If you are feeling insecure about your belly and body changes, Sanji will immediately shower you with kisses and adoring compliments

“My darling, you are so beautiful and I am even more in love seeing you carry our child”

When you went into labor, he was right there by your side, holding your hand and helping you to control your breathing and encouraging you to push as hard as you can

Once your child is born, this man is actually bawling his eyes out. He is so fucking happy lol

Law

He definitely suspected you were pregnant from the symptoms you were exhibiting

He did a check up on you just to be sure and his theory was correct

Law definitely had some fears, you two were pirates and he already was protective of you before and now that you were pregnant you were even more vulnerable

But once he saw the panicked look in your eyes, he pushed his own fears aside and reassured you everything was going to be okay

“It’s okay Y/N-ya, I will take care of you.”

Law never thought about having children before but as your pregnancy went along he was starting to warm up to the idea

He is definitely even more protective and gives you even more check ups to ensure that you and the baby are healthy

Makes sure you are taking your vitamins and that you aren’t exerting yourself too much

Doesn’t let you leave the Polar Tang under any circumstances and don’t even try to fight him on this. He will have none of it

Protectiveness aside, Law is more softer and affectionate with you. He is always holding you and giving you kisses and loves to hold and kiss your tummy

Bepo and the crew notice this and tease their captain which is always met with death glares from Law that sends them running lol

Law is the one to deliver your baby when you go into labor, while Bepo serves as your comfort bear to help you through your delivery

When your child is born, Law had the biggest smile you ever seen on him

He thinks about Corazon and wishes he was here to see his child. But knows he is watching over him and his new family.

[albatris]

hewwo

I deleted the opening of rentalcar from tumblr months ago when all the ai nonsense happened but now it's back again because I'm me. it's fresh and edited! and shorter

here's the new chapter one for your viewing pleasure. enjoy! or don't. don't let me tell you how to live your life I'm not your mum

hi taglist hello - some of you have already read this! I hope you're having a nice day though 😎

@transmasc-wizard @saturn-iidae @polyaubergine @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @silverwarewolf @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @plasticseaslug @jetstargenderfuckery @multi-lefaiye @writeouswriter @junoshusband @writing-is-a-martial-art @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @sleepycaprine @cream-and-tea @gailynovelry @lefttigerobservation @indecentpause @writingsfromspace @carnivalls @violetfoxsketches @approximately20eggs @mohluskiepedard @desastreus @kk7-rbs @cee-grice @northwyrm @xylophonicsynapse @careful-pyromancer @recapitulation @incandescent-creativity @whole-buncha-snakess @mysticalalleycat @thatonecrowguy @va-nila-bean @televisionjester @excessive-vampires @walkman-cat @davycoquette @xenascribbles

tw for paranoia, anxiety, hallucinations, swearing, general feelings of unease

Nat Finch blinked awake.

He was slumped forward in the driver’s seat of his rental car, his forehead pressed to the steering wheel, his body aching like he hadn’t moved in centuries. His feet were bare. His throat burned. His head throbbed. Curled over his shoulders was the familiar softness of the blanket from his back seat, the one he’d been meaning to give to the Larsons for two weeks now. A deep night breeze leaked through the slightly-open window to his right, the cold gnawing at the dampness that clung to his clothes, to his face and hair. He felt filthy, filmy, disgusting—more so than usual.

A muddle of memories and flickers and voices fought for space in his brain, bumping up against each other and overlapping, threads escaping every time he thought he’d grasped one. He was overcome, for a single surreal moment, by the sense he had just awoken from an exceedingly peculiar dream.

Nat Finch sat up, groaning.

Disturbed by the motion, plastic crinkled in his lap. A collection of granola bars was scattered over him, a few of them having tumbled down onto the seat next to him and the floor below. Like someone had dumped them unceremoniously over his head and just… left him like that.

He recognised the brand, vaguely—something hoity-toity and ridiculous he’d seen at the supermarket, fifteen dollars a goddamn box—but they weren’t something that had any business being anywhere near him. His bank balance barely scraped double digits at the moment.

“Who the fuck…” Nat paused, not sure what question he was even supposed to be asking. “Why the fuck…”

His attention edged upwards, to a scrap of cardboard folded neatly in two and perched atop his dashboard.

DO YOUR BEST! it read in a childlike handwritten scrawl.

Nat squinted harder. “What the fuck.”

He tried to think. His brain, sluggish and laden with fog and aching, refused to provide any context for the mystery shower of nutrition. Or the note.

Or… anything else, for that matter. He didn’t remember falling asleep; he didn’t remember stopping his car. He remembered leaving work, but it had barely been dusk when he’d left work and the trip from Stop ‘N’ Go to his apartment was fifteen minutes, tops.

It was not dusk anymore. The black outside was the pure solitude of the witching hour and the world beyond his window was silent, save for the buzz and pop of a single faulty streetlight a few metres ahead and the chittering gossip of crickets. No people. No cars. No movement.

Nat’s dread climbed. He craned his neck and strained to decipher his whereabouts. The lonely light offered only flimsy, spluttering illumination—some of it splashing into his car, some of it into dry grass and mesh fence lining the side of the road, most of it merely into the rumble of gravel directly beneath it. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea why he was where he was.

The disco ball hanging from his rear-view mirror glittered at him, blinking urgently.

He shoved the granola bars off himself, suddenly feeling contaminated. A strident, pulsating pain forked through every inch of his body at the movement—he gritted his teeth, letting out a hiss and a wince. The blanket went next, ripped from his shoulders and hurled at the opposing window in a multicoloured flurry. It crumpled to the passenger seat and Nat stared at it, prickling all over with the suspicion someone else had placed it on him. Someone else had been here. Watching. Leaning. Looming. Touching. His hand flew to the window winder and wound it, sealing the opening. Sealing himself in and the outside out.

And then he sat still, mind reeling, chest tight. Panic twisting in his stomach. He waited for his brain to kick over, for his memory to rush back, for the moment he shook free the dregs of post-sleep disorientation and went, Oh, that’s right! That’s why I’m here! That’s what’s going on! How could I have forgotten?

A minute passed.

And another.

Frozen.

Rigid.

Nat swallowed, hard. Nothing clicked into place. Nothing clicked and nothing clicked and nothing clicked. Why not? He’d left work and turned left down Rake Street like he always did. He’d done nothing out of the ordinary.

The night outside was alive. With every flicker-out of the streetlight, the dark whined at his window, still trying to reach him. A tapping, a whistling, a whispering in its own made-up language. Nat. Nat. Nat. Something’s wrong. Nathaniel. Something’s wrong. The dark that should not have been there. The dark that should have been dusk.

He'd lost hours. Hours. What the hell had happened to him? The note on his dashboard sat there, smirking. It knew things he didn’t.

Nat fought to breathe in.

Nat fought to breathe out.

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

Five things he could see were that gaudy leopard-print steering wheel cover, the smeared windscreen from too-old wipers, the radio, the hazard switch, his own hands, crusted in cracked, dried mud.

Four things he could feel were the press of the seat under him, the press of his work uniform over him, the sting of the cold on his feet, pain, pain, pain.

Three things he could hear were crickets and streetlights and dark.

Two things he could smell were the dull citrus hum of the vent-clip air freshener and the fact it was doing nothing to hide the fact he hadn’t showered in a while.

One thing he could taste was—

Okay, okay, alright. Okay. That would do it. Nat breathed in. Nat breathed out. Calm. Calm. Calm.

He reached gingerly for the ignition, exhaling in relief when he grasped the key still inside. He had that, at least. He hesitated, perched on an agonising threshold between hopeful anticipation and whatever reality was about to find him.

He turned the key.

Nothing.

He turned again.

Nothing. The car stuttered and clicked uselessly, refusing to start. Relief left him as quickly as it had arrived. Flat battery.

Nat breathed, “Ah, fuck.”

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

He twisted towards the back seat, feeling along the faux leather for his work backpack. He hauled it to himself and rammed an arm inside to seek his phone, shoving through a jumble of familiar shapes—notebook, hoodie, empty soft drink can for recycling, empty soft drink can for recycling, gum, nametag—ah, there it was.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Nat whined, his finger colliding with the power button. “Please, please, please—”

Nothing. Flat battery.

Nat breathed in.

Nat plonked his forehead back down on the steering wheel and released a long, agonised wail.

Simmering anxiety climbed into roiling terror. Terror branched sideways into paranoia. Paranoia bloomed up through his chest and into his throat, where it squeezed tight and threatened to choke him. He’d lost hours. Anything could have happened to him. Anything could have been done to him.

The dark outside mocked and laughed. The disco ball blinked its rhythmic little warnings. He could feel it all, even when he wasn’t looking.

Nathaniel. Something’s wrong. Nathaniel.

“No shit,” he muttered back.

What next?

He lifted his head and flipped the sun visor down to look at himself in the mirror. With no phone screen and no overhead light to guide him, it was hard to get a full picture. He tilted his head, twisted his neck, attempted to catch himself on some jittering streetlight. He snagged a few glimpses—a dribble of blood from a presumably cracked lip here, a smudge of dirt on a cheekbone there. The collar of his shirt looked bloody, too. His hair wasn’t sitting right, tangled black all caked together and hanging in thick clumps. Two trembling hands lifted, the quiver partially from weakness and partially from fear, and Nat gripped at his face. Tugging along those familiar edges and curves and juts, finding them not so familiar. Finding them wrong. Hollow. Caved in. His fingertips wandered down towards his jaw—

—and along the thick, uneven mumbling of stubble that hadn’t been there when he’d left the apartment that morning.

Nat’s heartbeat tripped up. He hadn’t lost hours.

He’d lost days.

Nat breathed in. And in. And in. Not enough. Too fast. His chest heaved. His lungs refused to fill.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t have lost days. He couldn’t have lost days. Jesus Christ, Nat had never been the shining poster child of mental health, but he’d never lost days. He’d been God knew where for God knew how long. He’d been—his feet were bare, his hands and face were streaked with mud, someone had clearly been messing around in his car—he’d been taken. Drugged. Kidnapped. That scribbled note? Do your best? He was being toyed with, probably by some deranged serial killer. And what was with the granola bars? Some kind of clue? A message?

He had to go. Run. Get help. Something close to a whimper climbed up his throat and fell from his lips. His hand crept to the door handle and stopped.

He’d seen horror movies. Not many, but enough. The chase, the hunt, the twisted mind games before the inevitable kill… these were part of the fun. There was probably someone watching him right now, folded into the shadows and out of sight, waiting for him to panic. Waiting for him to make his first mistake and step outside.

Waiting for him to start the game.

He couldn’t leave.

He couldn’t stay.

Could he stay? Could he just wait it out? Someone would find him. Someone would look for him. Someone would look for him, right?

No, no one would look for him. No one would care enough that he was gone.

No, there was no way they’d let him wait this out, whoever they were. They would find some way to lure him out, drive him out, force him into the waiting hands of the night air. Unprotected. Alone. All at once Nat felt a million eyes boring into him, leering from beyond the black, drinking in his every move. He shoved himself lower in his seat, clutching his dead phone to his chest.

Nat fought to breathe in.

Nat fought to breathe out.

He tried a final time to reason with himself.

When he’d worked twelve hour shifts four days straight, he’d started being dogged by the idea that someone had snuck a microscopic tracking device into his takeaway pizza, which he had subsequently consumed. When he’d been behind on rent for the third fortnight in a row, he’d become fixated on the idea that other customers in the supermarket were reading his thoughts and laughing at him. Look at this fucking loser. Grimy hair and track pants. Can’t even afford instant ramen.

Panic and stress tended to climb on top of him bit by bit. Panic and stress tended to twist all kinds of everyday events into all kinds of unnatural, terrifying shapes. It was normal. Even the tiny, audible hints of speech pushing through the dark, giving voice to his anxiety, those were normal under the right circumstances. It was all… no, not normal. It was a pattern. Tomorrow, he’d be fine. Tomorrow, he’d understand he’d never been in any danger.

So even though he was here now, helpless and stranded in the empty night, barefoot and filthy, abandoned by his memories and surrounded by leering scrawled words and fucking rich-people granola bars—he had to take this moment of clarity and hold it tight.

Tomorrow, this would all make sense.

DO YOUR BEST! the dark around him sang.

“Go to hell,” Nat spat.

And with that, he wrenched the door open.

[crabdrabbles]

Hiii Crab so happy to see you write outside of our rants/idea chats and my fellow delulu cod enjoyer! Would love to request Platonic!141 + Reader (sorry if this is long and somewhat confusing lol). You can do headcanons, drabble or whatever you comfy for. An idea that popped in my head kinda semi personal: Civ or 141! Reader though has parents and family is the reader is quite something else. Reader despite having somewhat normal upbringing still feel empty; they shouldn't be feeling this numb and empty deep inside of them. The reader craves the love that they give but couldn't or lack of receiving it back, though they don’t expect it or selfishly want it. Just someone who understands them even in their deepest darkest secret or flaw then boom cue the task force 141 unexpected yet welcoming to their life and maybe the one that the Reader can lean and let them be vulnerable on (finally).  

Take your time on doing this Looking for to your other writing genuinely -Cee, your fellow Soap delulu

GN!Reader & 141 (Mostly Price)

Warnings: Slight angst Ships: None. A/N: This absolutely ran away from me and I do not at all regret it, hope you enjoy, Cee!!! Words: 3549

Almost your entire life had been a cycle of self doubt that also started to churn and twist into self-hatred. You blamed yourself for the feelings. Afterall, you had a relatively normal upbringing. Two parents who were both present in your life, both of whom worked so that you all had food on the table and a roof over your head. A luxury that very few had.

The least you could do for them is follow the path that they wanted to put you on, no matter how much you didn’t want to do it. Because you loved them. 

So you excelled in your education, studying hard to try and impress your parents– to make them love you just as much as you loved them for everything that they did for you for your entire life. They wanted you to do all three sciences despite the additional workload it would add to your already stretched thin time? Then you would do them, take any extra classes after school in order to keep up with the work and not lag behind any of your peers. 

There was no such thing as a social life, either, not when you had homework and projects due. Friends were few and far between. Generally, most people left when they realised how hyper focused you were on your grades instead of social interaction. 

Did a classmate get a higher grade than you on a test? Well obviously you didn’t study hard enough, you just needed to dedicate more time to school even though school was all you had.

Did you get the highest marks in the class? Good, that was what was expected of you. Why didn’t you get full marks? You were better than that. You would do better because you loved your family. They showed it in their own way, of course, by encouraging you to study harder and get better grades. That was their love language, and yours was doing as they asked without a second thought. Because, at the end of the day, you were lucky to have an upbringing like you had. You would ignore the hollow void clawing at your chest because you had no right to feel that way– not when you had a roof over your head and parents that loved you(?).

It was when you came top of the class with full marks in a recent test, you came home with a beaming smile on your face and proudly showed the test to your parents. They took the papers from your hands, flipping through your work with critical eyes, before handing the papers back to you. 

‘Well done, we’re so proud of you.’ That was all you wanted them to say to you. That was all you needed to hear. To know that they loved you. 

‘Your penmanship is terrible.’ Was what you got instead. When you tried to point at the big 100% in green pen, you were waved away. ‘How are you expected to get a job when you write like a child? I’m surprised the teacher could even read your answers’. 

After several years of balancing a work and educational life and paving a way for a line of work that you didn’t want for parents you should have been grateful to have, you decided that enough was enough. 

No matter how hard you worked, no matter how high your marks were, they would never be proud of you. They would never return the love that you had for them until you nearly killed yourself trying. 

Spending your entire childhood, teenagehood and all of your current adulthood trying to please your parents predictably would damage one’s psyche. You had no friends, family who had never been devoted to you as you were to them, and high grades serving as the foundations to a prison-like future.

You dropped out of University. The only option forward that you saw was joining the army in the vain hope that the empty feeling inside of you would dissipate when you actually did something that you believed was more worthwhile than any University course. 

So you threw yourself into the military, working harder than all of the other recruits and training at every chance you could.

Your skills and determination became widely recognised amongst your peers. It took several years, but you eventually caught the eye of none other than Captain John Price. 

Impressed by your willpower that not many soldiers possessed, he offered you a place on the 141. 

Naturally, you agreed. You believed that being part of such a well renowned and respected team would finally beat back the lingering self doubt and emptiness that had curled itself around your heart.

It didn’t. If anything, it made it worse.

You were invited to join the 141, sure, but they had already established their own relationships between each other, had already bonded into a close knit group, and you were simply an outsider. Yes, you had been hand picked by Price himself, but that didn’t mean you were part of the team. They had their own inside jokes that they told to one another, leaving you feeling left out on most days.

And you felt… lacking around them. Ghost was stronger, Gaz was faster, Soap was smarter (he was a demolitions expert for crying out loud!), and Price was almost all of those rolled into one. They all complimented each other as a team. Meanwhile you felt like a spare tyre, a master of nothing and barely a jack of any trade. 

Despite how you felt about it all, they all called you ‘kid’. Regardless of age gaps between yourself and the rest of them, the nickname stuck mostly because you were the newbie. It came as a surprise that it wasn’t spat with vitriol as your peers before had, but it was in fact said with… an affection you couldn’t quite place.

You couldn’t ignore the hole in your chest that had been chipped at over the years, forming a gaping maw that no reassurances could really mend. 

Doubt lingered in the back of your mind, chipping away at your sanity as you prepared for the worst. How long would it take before they realised you weren’t good enough? 

You were so deep in your doubts that you didn’t realise that you had been distancing yourself even more than before until you overheard a conversation in Price’s office a few months down the line.

“-- they don’t belong on the team.” Gaz said as you passed Price’s office and your heart dropped. It was only the tailend of what he had been saying but you had gotten the gist. You wanted to stay, to listen to the conversation more and listen to what your team had to say about you, but you didn’t. What you were going to hear were likely things you had already told yourself right from the start. You keep walking on, ignoring the sting of tears burning in the corners of your eyes. The blood rushing in your ears prevented you from heating the rest of the conversation. 

“-- not only are they acting like they don’t belong on the team, but they’re acting like they’re not good enough.” Gaz continued, sighing in frustration.

“Maybe they need more time.” Ghost rumbled in reply, “Let them come out of their shell a little bit. Best not rush these things.” He was talking from experience, after all.

“Aye… maybe I can invite them out for drinks or sommat? I wouldn’t want them getting transferred before we got to know them a little more.” Soap had been the one that had tried the hardest to get close to you but had also tried to give you space so as to not suffocate you with his personality. 

“They won’t be getting transferred.” Price said with conviction, tapping his desk, “I chose them to be part of this team and this is where they’re going to stay. Let me have a word with them first.”

“Aye, sir.”

— — — — — —

You found yourself in the smoker’s shelter outside the main building. It was late enough that most of the soldiers had gone to bed or off to do their own things elsewhere so you doubted that you would be bothered for a little while. Just enough time for you to get your thoughts together. Your tears had dried in your eyes a few minutes ago, making them sting in the cold air. You didn’t need to look in your reflection to know that you probably looked like a wreck– entirely unbecoming of a soldier of your apparent status. 

You didn’t want to get transferred. Despite your distance with the 141, you didn’t hate them. Far from, actually, you held a great deal of respect for each and every one of them. It was just that you felt like you didn’t have your place amongst them. Not good enough to be associated with them. 

“Bit late to be out here in the cold, chuck.” A voice startled you out of your thoughts– one that you would recognise anywhere from the low rasp of a smoker's lungs. 

“Captain.” You croaked, wincing at the patheticness in your voice. There was a scuff of boots as Price came closer, leaning into your line of vision with a furrowed brow which only furrowed more as he took in your dishevelled appearance.

“Something on your mind?” He asked kindly, perching on the arm of the bench to give you some personal space. He left his question open, allowing you any chance to steer the conversation how you wanted to. There was no judgement for catching you at your lowest, no disgust at your red rimmed eyes— just polite understanding and a non verbal offer of pleasant company. 

“Why did you pick me, Captain?”

The question made him tilt his head, a frown beginning to tug on his features. You were worried you had insulted him.

“What brought this on, huh? Someone say something to you? Need me to have a word with them?” He straightened his back, scowling. Whilst you felt like you didn’t have a place in the 141, you could never deny the shield of protectiveness that Price held over his team. You remember in the back of your mind the day that some General who thought he was hot shit had the audacity to undermine Soap as nothing more than a ‘yappy dog’ when offered the Scot’s demolitions expertise. Price had appeared almost out of thin air and almost ripped the General a new one and things would have escalated into a fist fight had Laswell not intervened. It wasn’t as though Price didn’t think his own soldiers were capable of defending themselves, but he couldn’t care less about punishments aimed his own way over that of his Sergeants and Lieutenant. It was just a surprise that the protective streak extended over you, too, despite your distance to your teammates.

“I’ll sound stupid.” You mumbled, looking down at the ground as if expecting him to chastise you like a child. He didn’t.

“I’ve had my fair share of stupid over the years. Try me.”

“... and ungrateful.”

“I once had a guy punch me in the face two seconds after I took a bullet that would have killed him.” Price countered with a cut off chuckle once he remembered what was probably a mission long finished and cleared his throat. “C’mon, tell Captain what’s on your mind.”

And he sounded so sincere when he said it. Sounded like he genuinely wanted to hear what was going on in your head– that he was willing to waste what was already his important and limited time on someone like you. 

“Sir—”

“John.” Price corrected gently, crows feet more noticeable at the corners of his eyes scrunched up when he smiled, “We’re off duty, you don’t need to be so formal.”

“... John.” You echoed, finding that you really didn’t like saying that. It felt like calling your teacher by their first name in primary school or a classmate’s parent other than their last name. 

“Now, c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind. Might not be a therapist, but I’m better than bottling it up.” You wondered in the back of your mind how often Price did this. Sat with his soldiers and talked with them, offered them a listening ear to hear their vents and fears. You couldn’t help but feel honoured to be one of the few he willingly offered said time to. Your silence stretched on as you thought of the words to say, how to phrase what you wanted to say without sounding unappreciative of the opportunity that Price had offered you when he requested you join his team. 

“I don’t feel like I belong here.” You blurted once the silence had stretched on for long enough to border on uncomfortable. John’s face fell and you quickly realised how bad that sounded and rushed to correct yourself.

“No, no, wait, let me explain–” the Captain closed his mouth to allow you to continue speaking, but you could tell that it was hard for him. “I just… you could have anyone better than me, you know? I’m not a demolition expert. I’m… I’m not the best Sniper. I’m the slowest on the team, pretty sure I’m the weakest–”

“Nope.” Price interrupted, finally breaking the bubble of your personal space as he took a proper seat next to you on the bench but still respecting the distance enough to keep a few inches between you. “Nope, not lettin’ you say another word.”

“But–” 

“Nope.”

“Cap–”

“No.”

“But you could have anyone better—“

“But they wouldn’t be you.” He deflected easily. Far too easily. He leant back on the bench, crossing one leg over the other as he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers twitched and you could tell he was itching for a cigar but didn’t light one out of respect. 

“Alright, sure, I can ask Laswell to give me one of the best soldiers in the SAS and have them brought here tomorrow. They could be the best of the best, top of their class, better than you and maybe even better than me. But that’s a bit of a stretch.” He winked and earned a weak chuckle from you. “But they won’t be you. I don’t pick just on skill alone, kid, I pick based on how I feel people would fit into the team. I chose you because I knew that you’d be perfect.”

“As for not being a demolitions expert, let  me let you in on a little secret. I’ve no fucking clue about demolitions, either. And you don’t have to be on the team to be the ‘best Sniper’. You’re better than most, and that’s what’s important. As for being the weakest– did you or did you not bodily lift Gaz in a fireman’s carry during training the other week while he was trying to act as an injured civilian? Quite dramatically, might I add. Swooned and everything.”

You remembered that practice mission. Quite fondly, actually. Gaz was a civilian and , after being struck by a foam bullet from Soap, had dramatically screamed in agony and crumpled to the floor. When you had lifted him up and over your shoulders, the bastard continued to wail something along the lines of telling his non-existent spouse that he loved them and that his money be given to his equally non-existent children. Soap got in another shot to the man’s head, knocking off his cap in the process. Distracted as you were trying to haul your teammate out of the danger zone, you couldn’t help but laugh thinking about it now. 

“Last time I checked, Gaz is somewhat heavier than a sack of flour. Don’t tell him I said that, I’ll hurt his feelings.” Price was right, you supposed. You were more than capable of carrying Gaz over your shoulders, maybe even Soap or Price himself if the time called for it. Ghost you weren’t so sure about, though. The man was a walking mountain. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you have to give yourself more credit. You’re more than good enough to be on my team. I chose you for a reason.”

You… did not expect that sort of reassurance from Price. You had hoped for something along those lines, yes, but perhaps with a thrown in criticism or three. You waited for a ‘but’ that never came. The man snorted beside you and when you gave him a quizzical look, he waved off your concern.

“Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the next thing out of your mouth would be that your parents never hugged you as a kid.”

Your silence made him slowly turn his head towards you. It would have almost been comical if the situation wasn’t. His face crumbled and a wounded sound emerged from his throat.

“Sometimes they did!” You rushed to defend the people that raised you. “And they gave me food and shelter, clothes when I needed them–”

“Fucking hell. No, that’s what they’re supposed to do because they’re your parents. What about telling you that they were proud of you? That they loved you? I saw your records. Top of your class in not just your training but in your education, too. Triple sciences, mathematics, all of it. They had to be proud of you for that? My parents would have killed for me to get even a passing grade in my GCSEs.” You looked down at the ground and it was Price’s turn to have his eyes fixed on you. 

“They were proud of you, weren’t they?” He asked again, leaning forwards so he could catch your eye, his own filled with concern. “Kid?”

“I don’t talk to them much anymore.” 

Price inhaled sharply and he leaned back again, looking around and clenching his jaw as if fighting back his anger. His fingers twitched again. You admired his self control as he was still yet to grab a cigar that you knew he kept on his person. Usually in his breast pocket while his lighter was in his right pocket.

“Listen to me.” The Captain said, a more stern edge to his voice now that he had gathered his thoughts together. “Whatever your family said to you— how they treated you? Forget it. They showed you obligation. Not love. They didn’t want what was ‘best’ for you, they wanted bragging rights. What you’ve achieved– here, in bootcamp, in university and in school, is something to take pride in– no, no, look at me.”

Your gaze had trailed to the side so you avoided looking at your Captain in the eyes. He noticed and clicked his fingers to gain your attention back on him.

“Don’t look away from me because I want you to listen to what I’m gonna say and I want you to look at my face as I say it.” Your eyes met his blue ones, “You should be proud of everything that you’ve achieved in your life. I’m sorry that your family never told you that and I’m sorry that I haven’t said that enough to you since you joined 141.”

You opened your mouth to say something– to argue or disagree but he shook his head.

“No. It’s my turn to speak now. I’m proud of you. I am so proud of you. Everything you’ve done and everything that you’re yet to do, I will always be proud of you. You’re an exemplary soldier and I knew the moment I saw you that you would be a perfect addition to the 141 and you have proved me right time and time again. You belong on this team just as much as the rest of the boys. Do you understand?”

So many words– proud, proud, proud. That’s all you had wanted to hear for so many years from someone whose opinion mattered to you. You wanted to be seen and Price, this godsend of a man, had seen you and more.

“Kid, do you understand me?”

You nodded once and then realised that Price wouldn’t have been able to tell through your shaking. Tears blurred in the corners of your eyes and you nodded again, not trusting your voice in case it shattered. 

“What do you need from me?” Price’s voice was oh so soft, like he was talking to a frightened fawn. He could see how much his words had affected you and it clearly broke his own heart.

“A hug.” Your bottom lip wobbled and his face softened as he opened his arms, twitching his fingers to urge you closer.

“I can do that.” 

You leaned into him and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in close. You could smell the lingering scent of his last cigar. The smell of his office and cleaning oil. You felt his chin on the top of your head and felt how his chest rumbled as he spoke.

“You’re part of the 141 whether you like it or not, alright? Me and the boys want you here for as long as you want to be.”

At that moment, for the first time in your life. You felt wanted. You felt appreciated and you felt seen.

have a request? send one in!

[miupow]

hii! wanted to send in a few thoughts!!

ive been really inspired ny the idea that soobins plush is a bunny dressed in a wolfs costume, and that lowk makes me wonder if in the crave verse, soobin is like a wolf in sheeps clothing?? like he'll act really nice, shy, + quiet but after you guys get close and during his rut he'll start to become rpugher and somewhat meaner? esp after he starts getting used to his ruts! i also feel like that sheep part of him still hold him back from being irrational! idk it was js in my brain for a while!!

idk if you mentioned this before but im also genuinely curious why some of the members ruts are not as bad as others (ex: tyun isnt that bad but beomgyu.., 😜) i assuming it varies based on how attached and how often the members spend time with you

will there be other wolf packs mentioned in crave verse? ive read before that wolves get very territorial so im wondering if like another wolf finds y/n while shes gathering berries or something for the members and tries to pull a move ?

anyways thanks for listening to my yap sesh, ill def make sure to write some more asks later on 🤞🤞

hiii!!!! pls share ur thoughts always omg thank u 

i love this idea first of all. soobin in general is a wolf in sheep’s clothing i think ( ˘ω˘ ) but crave!soobin definitely!!! he’s a sweet shy darling but it’s because he’s hiding what’s really under the surface.. soobin doesn’t want to be a slave to his instincts, but around you he just can’t help it :’(

ruts r different for every wolf ! some just experience them differently than others… it also depends on how much control they have over their wolf, like tyun has lots of control so he can manage it better but beomgyu has barely any which makes his ruts really bad !! same for soobie and kai (-ω-、)

it can also depend on mc too !! like if she’s ovulating around their rut… or if they just really like her a lot and end up thinking about her 24/7 during it (*/ω＼)

i’ve mentioned this a couple of times but there r other wolf packs in the forest ! the forest is huge and there r lots of packs including packs that the boys came from hehe . long multigenerational packs with lots of wolves . jjun’s pack is relatively small and weak compared to others which is why they like to keep to themselves ! skz is a pack in the woods too they’re relatively close to the boys hehe (*ﾉ∀`*) cee wrote about them for me once !! i imagine they find out that yeonjun and his boys nabbed a human girl and now jisung wants one too lol

the boys r really possessive so it wouldn’t end well if mc came across another wolf without them around !! i could see her keeping it a secret tho for the other wolf’s sake lol. some packs r more human aggressive than others so there is actual danger for mc if she gets found by one of those packs, but there r packs that r nicer too!

[wonwayne]

GUYS what if i did an enha oneshot series with each one inspired by a track off of pinkpantheress’ heaven knows album??? they wouldn't be necessarily connected but i have ideas in mind:

true romance : jungwon idol!won with non-idol!reader but also childhood bffs to strangers(ish?) to lovers “been a fan of you since 2004” reader falls first, he falls harder typa deal

the aisle : niki MESSY relationship i tell you MESSY he runs very hot and cold breakup in the middle but reader tries to get him back a lot of spite and pining :))

nice to meet you : jake a very dramatic meetcute i think “tell them how we met, because you tell it best” AHH just gonna ignore central cee's feature bc i do not want to write unfaithful jake 👍

ophelia : sunoo the saddest thing i will probably ever write ngl maybe it will invoke shakespeare, maybe it won't definitely a star-crossed lovers trope though

feel complete : jay another devastating one i'm so sorry 😭 i think it'll have to be alcoholic!jay,, the way this song is such a banger and the lyrics are just–

blue : sunghoon a bit reminiscent of niki's love hate relationship, slightly obsessive reader pair that with narcissist!sunghoon... ooh that's tough

capable of love : heeseung they're in the engagement stage but hee is scared of commitment :(( at a certain point he straight up ghosts you so many tears but it's fated love. impossible to let go i fear overall these will be very angsty (if you couldn't already tell lmao) but lmk if you'd want to read these! i'd gladly indulge in all seven.

[eastwindmlk]

Did this just pop into my head this morning and did i write this instead of cleaning? yes and yes. But here is a slightly longer something for today. 1k for Jilyweek. Hosted by @kay-elle-cee and @sunshinemarauder

Petunia had been right. This was not a sentence Lily thought often, at least, not as she got older and her sister had drifted further and further away. Her views follow the same trajectory. Just thinking about it made Lily’s heart ache.

But she’d had a real point the last time the sisters met. “It’s easier like this. I can’t remember the last time I had time to wash my hair,” she explained after Lily had commented on her new, sleek bob cut. Which Petunia had undoubtedly modelled after Lady Di, completing her royal look with their mother’s double string of pearls and the chubby, red-faced infant pressed to her chest.

Harry was two weeks old now and Lily had forgotten what the inside of their bathroom looked like. She always found something to do. Even when, or maybe especially when, her husband told her to rest. Guilt gnawing at her while he maintained the house, did their groceries and indulged her strange cravings, like roasting her chicken at ten in the morning or somehow producing fresh chocolate chip cookies while she fed Harry at three.

All this while, she could not even manage to wash and brush her hair regularly. Lily kept the tangles hidden in a bun that also served to keep the greasy strands away from grabby hands. It was fine. It was something she would deal with when… Well, sometimes she was certain.

This thought persisted until one fateful four in the morning she couldn’t take it anymore. Shifting uncomfortably, itching at her scalp and cringing at the coarseness of her usually soft hair. Lily carefully moved out of James’ arms, cursing the creaking floorboard that was far too close to the crib while she sneaked out.

She rummaged through the kitchen drawer until she found a pair of scissors which she marched to the bathroom. Lily tried to not pay too much attention to how tired her reflection looked, her fingers carefully working the hair elastic free from where it had twisted into the infernal knots that were driving up the wall.

Eventually resorting to pulling at it hard, yelping when the elastic snapped but finally free from her hair. Though it seemed to do very little to move the mess. Scissors in hand, Lily had the urge to just start hacking away and clean up whatever she had left after.

If it had not been for the sleepy voice from the hallway she might have done it too. “Lils? What are you doing?” James’ voice was adorably raspy with sleep and it soothed the fire in her veins enough to nudge the door open to let him in. He rubbed his eyes against the light, blinking the world into focus as his eyes landed on the scissors in her hand. “what are you going to do with those?”

Lily swallowed, clicking them open and shut for a moment before her shoulders sagged in defeat. “Cutting my hair,” she admitted a little sheepishly and watched his features shift through the five stages of grief before settling on concern.

“Any reason in particular?”

It was a fair question and one that she could not really answer with anything more than a non-committal shrug. “It’s a mess and I don’t have the energy to sort it out,” she admitted after a moment of consideration and once more raised the scissors up to start hacking away.

James appeared in the mirror behind her while his fingers wound around her hand. “Darling,” he cautioned and her eyes met him in the reflection. “Do you want help sorting out your hair? If you still want to cut it off after that we’ll get you to a hairdresser.” His fingers slipped down, fingers skimming her wrist and came to rest on her shoulder.

The reflection grew blurry with tears feeling his thumb rub soothing circles into her shoulder blade. She drew in a shaky breath in the hopes of keeping her emotions in check. Something that had proven rather difficult ever since Harry, the pregnancy has wreaked havoc on her restraint. Her heart was on her sleeve whether she wanted it to be or not.

“You’re already doing so much, I c-can’t ask you to sort out my bloody hair too.” She tried to refuse, placing the scissors on the sink with a metal clang. “It’s too much.”

“Nothing is too much, Lily,” he answered so immediately it was almost jarring. “If anything, I am sorry I did not notice it before.” She felt his lips kiss away the tears that rolled down her cheek and his hands steered her towards the bathtub.

With a flick of his wand, it filled and the soothing scent of lavender and oleander swirled around her. Tempting her into the warm water. “I suppose if you insist.” With that, she slipped into the the tub, her body more achy than she had realized before.

With patient fingers silently worked through the knots in her hair, not once did he so much as mention the mess it was. He just worked, slowly and methodically. Lulling her into a meditative state, more restful than she had been for months. Before she knew it the small window started to filter in cool morning light. Which was the only indication of how long they’d been there.

Lily shifted, trying to turn to James to look at him and maybe suggest he take a break. That she could still just cut it all off. But then she realized something. His fingers were slowly running through her locks, smooth and soft. “One more minute. Just need to rinse and you’re good as new.”

Her hand shot up, fingers sliding through with ease. She combed her fingers through once, twice and then again. “Oh, James,” she sighed, her voice trembling with emotion. She could not express how much this meant to her. Lily swallowed the tightness in her throat, her fingers brushing the back of his hand gingerly. “Thank you.”

James lifted her hand up to his lips, kissing her fingertips and she could hear the gentle smile in his voice as he simply answered. “I love you.”

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Hey, Cee!💗Congrats on your amazing milestone!👏I’m rather new to the family, still making my way through your master list and I enjoy it a lot😊 For the sleepover I’d like to request a micro drabble if you’d be so kind - Roommates Au with Dieter Bravo 🙌 What a nightmare!😅

Hi lovely! I'm so glad you're here and I hope you're having a good time with my Pedro boys 😘 So this one ran away from me, I'm very sorry if this wasn't what you were hoping for, but I've been itching to write for a younger Dieter, and this is what came out.

Dieter Bravo x Roommates AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1000ish words (sorry) | warnings: mature themes but not explicit, mentions of drug use, angst, hopeful ending

You're not sure how you ended up sharing an apartment with Dieter Bravo.

Honestly, calling this dumpster fire of a studio above a laundromat/dealer's den an apartment is a kindness it does not deserve.

You tried in the beginning. You painted the walls a soothing buttercup that has long peeled off in patches. You fixed the table with the crooked leg so it doesn't wobble when you eat discounted sandwiches on it. You even bought potted plants, dotting trellises of green throughout the small space to give it some semblance of life (that quickly expired from lack of daylight).

But then one day, your college boyfriend, your supposed ride-or-die, left for an audition and never came back.

The next morning, Dieter Bravo showed up on your doorstep, a beat-up weekender bag at his feet. He looked bored even then, wearing an unaffected nonchalance like he does his favourite green robe. 'Some dude I met an an audition yesterday said there's a cheap room for rent?'

Except there's not really a room. There's a bed in the corner with a privacy curtain around it like a fucking hospital ward, and there's a fold-out couch on the other side of the tiny space.

Dieter lets you take the bed.

You don't bother getting to know your new roommate, too wrapped up in the cotton wool of your heartbreak and a blind determination to make it. Honestly, you'd struggle to pick him out from a lineup.

All you know is that he's messy, but he consciously contains that mess to his side of the studio. It's like there's a glass wall holding back his dirty clothes and mismatched shoes from spilling into the shared kitchen. He's also bad at clearing out the fridge, always forgetting the discounted Cheddar he seems to have a fondness for, but always leaves rotting at the back of the dairy shelf.

He doesn't complain when you throw his shit out though, and you don't mind cleaning up after him.

You're ships in the night, each pulling as many shifts as possible in between auditions to stay alive in this money-guzzling, soul-crushing city.

By the time you come home well after midnight, the only sign that another person lives with you is the occasional Chinese takeout he leaves out on the (still wobbly) table if the buffet place he works at gives him leftovers.

In your rush to leave for your first shift one morning, you accidentally make too much coffee, which you leave on the counter for when he returns from his graveyard stint. A few more accidents later, you start making enough for two out of habit.

The first time you actually share space in the studio is maybe five months into your not-quite-cohabitation. It's been a tough day - two rejections after third-round auditions, and a drunk customer spilled Jack and Coke onto your favourite white top, which will definitely leave a stain.

You let yourself into the studio quietly, not bothering with the lights. Stripping down to your underwear, you're about to head into the bathroom when you hear it.

Just above the thumping bass of the illicit nightclub across the street, and the whirr of the industrial-sized washing machines under your feet, is the unmistakable squeak squeak squeak of old springs in the fold-out couch.

You freeze. Someone else is in the apartment with you.

A breathy, distinctly female moan reaches your ear, but a vicious blare of a car horn promptly drowns it out.

Holy fuck. Dieter is fucking some girl not ten steps across the studio, with nothing but the flimsy curtain around your bed separating you.

Suddenly hyperaware, you hear everything. The heavy, loaded slap of skin on skin. Shallow breaths muted in the curve of a neck. The low timbre of his voice, whispers of words that you can't make out - but you know that it's filthy by the way the fold-out creaks under the motion of quickening thrusts, and the desperate cry from the woman, quickly muffled.

You know exactly the moment he cums - there's a sudden stillness, a suspension of time, like everything is on tiptoes - and then three long, drawn-out thumps of the couch hitting the wall.

Then all goes quiet.

You can barely open your eyes the next morning when you trudge to the bathroom in just a threadbare sleep shirt and underwear. The door opens without you noticing, and you walk nose first into a broad, wet chest.

You open your mouth to apologise, but no words come out as you tip your chin upwards.

Dieter Bravo has brown eyes, hooded by deep set lids. He will change a lot in the years to come, as fame and drugs take hold - but one thing that does not is the way your breath hitches when he looks at you. Really looks at you.

His curls are long and unruly when dry, but wet and slicked back, the contours of his profile are more pronounced, and your eyes slide down the strong bridge of his nose and linger on the plush lips under a moustache that seems almost fastidiously tidy compared to the rest of him. It's the one constant when everything else in his life is anything but.

Dieter Bravo will be many things to you over the next fifteen years. Lover, boyfriend, ex, stranger, co-star, friend, friend with benefits, fiancé, ex, fiancé once again -

But he was your roommate first. And that morning, in the doorway to the tiny shower, your tits inadvertently pressed up against his bare chest, the wet towel wrapped around his narrow hips brushing your bare thighs, he smiles at you for the first time.

And when things get difficult down the line, because by god, do they get difficult - you hold on to that smile.

You hold onto him. Sometimes you have to, literally, wrapping your whole body around his through withdrawal shakes, and you whisper in his ear to remind him of how far you've both come from that dumpster fire of a studio above the laundromat/dealer's den -

Which you're kind enough to call an apartment.

[zee-143]

Just random Bsf! Bang Chan thoughts :)

A/N: I tried something new💜🤭 and idk if I should continue this with other members 😭

Genre: Fluff☁️✨

Group: Stray Kids

Group member: Bang Chan

Warnings: Noneee

Chan is clingy

I think we all know this by now. He acts clingy around his members so why wouldn't he act the same way around you. His best friend.

Now obviously, at the beginning of your friendship, Chan wasn't as clingy

He was honestly just friendly and comforting towards you. Which you did find very refreshing. He always made your comfortability a 1# priority (such a sweet heart 🤭♥)

As the friendship progressed, you noticed how much Chan really enjoyed hugs. Or anything affectionately physical.

He'd place his head on your shoulder/ your head

Randomly holding your hand

Hugging you from behind was a common occurrence

When you asked about it he'd always say "You just feel really warm! "

It obviously flattered you that he wanted to be close to you 24/7, but when you needed space he didn't hesitate to give you that

It was especially cute when he hugged you and flashed the iconic " :] " smile

He loved when you asked HIM for assistance with anything.

He'd immediately jump at an opportunity to help his best friend

Whether it's a simple question or you need someone to vent to, he WILL always be there for you

You always return to favor (though he always tells you it's fine) by buying him food or maybe a hoodie. Something sweet

As your bestie, Chan will always find an opportunity to tease you

It's always light teasing though

He doesn't want to offend you, not at all!

But compliments are also a promise

Whether it be through text or in person or even through one of his group members he will find a way to compliment you Every. Single. Day

^Also listen to this song omfg. It's so good. If u wanna that is :] What I was listening to while writing this lol😭

[iftheshoef1tz]

I Come With Knives

Azris, 13k words, rated E.

A party on the continent, hosted by one of Koschei’s lackeys, goes awry. Nearly magicless, Azriel and Eris must survive on the continent together or die trying. Inspired by The Nutcracker, with a helping of Polish folk tales.

I’m so pleased to finally post this for my sweet friend, @krem-does-stuff!! I was so excited to get you for this year’s @acotargiftexchange, and I hope you enjoy it! Your theories about what my TikToks could mean had me rolling with laughter, because you were rather wrong, haha. I have so many more rat/Nutcracker-related TikToks to send you, and hopefully they’ll make (slightly) more sense once you’ve read this. I tried to incorporate all the desserts you gave me (raspberries are very important in this), and I tried to write Eris in a way that was new to me but still believable and delightfully mean.

Special thanks to @witch-and-her-witcher, @queercontrarian, and @yanny-77 for their beta skills; to Cee and Emma again for saying “send the TikTok” and holding my hand through the usual self-doubt; @pippsmcgee for shaking this fic until nearly all the present continuous fell out of it; @velidewrites for helping me translate a few things into Polish; @damedechance for helping me find something dirty to say; and, ofc, Dylan O’Brien. You know why.

Read on ao3.

Azriel stares out at the crowd, at the finery draped over every inch of this infernal castle, and he can almost pretend nothing is wrong. His leathers – he had refused to wear something more formal – creak as he shifts his weight, though it’s eaten up by the merry shouting of the crowd.

This invitation had come, bristling with glitter and tied with a ribbon, from one of the lesser noble houses of a small duchy close to the border with Rask. The duke and duchess were newly appointed and quite young, only in their eighties. Let bygones between continent and island be bygones, the invitation had crowed.

It stunk of a trap, and Azriel had come because there was no one else who could.

Rhys had Feyre, Nyx, and a death bargain no one could undo. They couldn’t spare Cassian, never mind that Nesta wasn’t ever letting Cassian out of her sight again. Mor and Lucien never figured into the equation, Lucien because he wasn’t stupid, and Mor because she wasn’t authorized by the Queen of Vallahan to go anywhere else on the continent.

It’s Amarantha all over again. None of the original players are here, of course; none of them would be so stupid. But apparently not smart enough to stay out entirely.

[corellianhounds]

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Ugh okay yes I have like a bunch of these, but I did settle on one that I just don’t know when I’d be able to figure it out. There’s too much setup involved to make it what I want. The context is that it’s a Prospect/Mandalorian crossover, the events of Prospect happening differently where Damon lives, but Cee still ends up escaping with Ezra.

Damon hires Mando to find Cee and their harvest after she disappears with Ezra, and once Mando finally tracks them down he’s shocked to see someone with his face walking around in the open. The whole time the plot’s happening he’s suspicious and unnerved by this stranger sharing his voice and face, and though his research into the backlog of Guild cases doesn’t reveal any details of this guy’s origin or personal life, it does give him plenty of information regarding Ezra’s colorful criminal history

However, Damon’s history isn’t much better, and Mando suspects he’s just better at hiding some of the more unsavory things he’s done. He also finds that Cee, according to his research, has been logged as Damon’s harvesting partner for almost ten years despite the fact this girl is clearly only about fifteen years old, and the kind of harvesting Damon’s done in the outer reach is a two-man job; you can’t afford dead weight, even if it’s to keep your kid with you. Does Damon want his daughter back, or does he want his assistant back?

Mando’s having to deliberate over who between Damon and Ezra is a bigger threat to this girl’s safety. Did Cee really choose Ezra because she trusts him and Ezra is trustworthy, or because she's being forced to choose the lesser of two evils?

—

Mando kept his pistol on Damon, but then he unhooked his rifle from his back, cocked it one handed and aimed it at Ezra—

— Only for Cee to step in front of him.

There was a scuffle of protests— Ezra tried to wrest her behind him but she shoved him back. Mando primed the charge on the rifle and Ezra raised both arms, hissing at Cee— Damon made as if to move for the girl, Mando grunted and stepped closer to Damon. Damon halted his approach, and Ezra and Cee argued while Cee blocked Mando's aim.

"Don't," Cee growled. "We trusted you."

"Listen, kid," Mando said levelly. "I don't know which between the two of them is worse, and I don't like the idea of you having to choose the better of two bad options."

"He's— He didn't coerce me," Cee protested.

"Didn't he?" Damon snarled.

"Shut up." Mando continued to watch the girl. "I don't know that, Cee. And I don't know if you're only saying that because you feel like it’s the only way to get away from your father."

Damon seethed. Ezra's wide eyes were stricken, watching the Mandalorian as Cee's shoulders tensed further. Either he was as good of an actor as Mando thought, or he truly did care for the girl. If it weren't for Cee's stubbornness shoving him back, Mando might have believed he'd step in front of her.

"Cee, I'm telling you to make the decision you want and know that if the answer is neither, you can walk away and get on that freighter of your own accord and go wherever you want. There's a bag of credits on my belt. I have a vested interest in bringing both of them into the Guild, and I won't move until you're safe. I can stand here a long time."

The silence between them hung like a ship in stasis as Cee glared. There was only a moment when Cee's gaze flicked to Damon, some silent conversation happening between them, and then she hooked one hand into the shoulder belt of Ezra's flight suit, pulling him just to the side, still behind her. "He's coming with me.”

Damon swore in a litany of languages as Mando nodded. "Okay."

"And we're going with you."

Meta Ask Game

[hoxooster]

On the DesBea situation:

I would've added my thoughts to the original post, but as I am not a part of their Discord server, I didn't think that that was any bit appropriate. However, I wanted to share some of my own personal experiences with her, so that y'all can see that her behavior in their server is a continuing pattern--I don't have pictures of what she said as proof, sadly, but I will explain why.

I'm also gonna slap this under a Read More. I apologize for its length, but the original callout post should be enough of an explanation as to why this post needs to be as long as it is.

And, as a quick aside, if any of you wish to completely block DesBea, NOT HARASS HER OR FEED INTO HER BEHAVIOR IN ANY WAY, be aware that her usernames are:

commence-screaming

des-paa-cee-toeee

pd3thoughts

If any of you know of any more, please tell me, and I will update this post. I don't want to be around her anymore than most people who've also interacted with her do.

About 2 years ago, I was invited to lilspacewolfie's server, Red's Ramblers, and I very quickly became a moderator there. Over time some people joined and a few left, but Ramblers remained stable through it all. DesBea joined later on into the server's lifespan, was around for awhile, said some nasty things, was given a warning (in the general), and just left without saying anything one day. After reading the screenshots in the callout post, I'm actually quite surprised by how much of a fit she threw in her efforts to make you guys apologize to her. Much like in the original post, with her gone from the server, things improved for everyone else, but the whole ordeal was rather confusing for all of us, in the aftermath.

See, DesBea was trying to be just as harmful in Ramblers, but it never really went anywhere.

Her hateful and self-pitying tendencies were the same around us as it was in their server. She really loved to talk shit about Yadoking and her writing--she would do this both in passing on random posts in the server, and while some of us were in-call when we'd play Payday 2 together as a group. It never smacked of genuine criticism for Yado's writing ability or style, as she only ever used childish language when doing it, and she would always do it right before she would try to push her own ideas and fics onto any of us who were online at the time. She was even trying to bully lilspacewolfie--which I will go more into later--over the tiniest of things. DesBea, in all of her posts, was either pushing someone else down, trying to make us all read about her rather disturbing fic ideas or headcanons, or trying to make herself look like the victim by claiming that she 'had bad experiences with abuse in the past' and that her 'PTSD was triggered over something someone in Ramblers had said' when we were trying to halt her bullshit.

It was all very aggravating to deal with, to say the least, but it also didn't have very much staying power, since most of us were just ignoring her in the server. And I do mean that, as most of the users in the Ramblers Discord server refused to interact with her posts over time, and people usually ignored her whenever she tried to insert herself into their conversations. It's probably why she left without much of a fight when lilspacewolfie posted "If you're being an asshole in this server, you better stop that shit right now" in the general chat. (That's not what she said, but y'all get the jist.)

Now, as for her bullying behavior in the server, I can't say for certain if she was targeting anyone besides lilspacewolfie (and badmouthing Yado from time to time, who wasn't even in the server), as I'm not a very outgoing or talkative individual. Despite the length of this post, I'm naturally quite taciturn, and even though I was a moderator in Ramblers, nobody in the server ever messaged me about any issues that they were having with anyone. But, I can say with accuracy that DesBea would go out of her way to harass lilspacewolfie--the creator and owner of the Red's Ramblers Discord server. Whenever she would join calls while we were playing together (but she was just watching from the server), she would only ever type in the voice chat channel, where she would wax poetic about her own fics and get rather offended that 'lilspacewolfie was intentionally ignoring her'. If we were playing a game of Payday 2 with her, DesBea would intentionally follow lilspacewolfie around as a character that she didn't particularly care for and spam callouts to scare and irritate her. And, when another user in the server was having an issue that caused them a lot of distress and made them go quiet for awhile (which had nothing to do with anyone or anything in Ramblers, when they were asked about it), DesBea tried to blame lilspacewolfie for it based on a lighthearted joke that she had made that dogged on Houston. So, not only was she trying to harass lilspacewolfie, but she was actively trying to turn others in the server against the owner of the Discord, as if she could muscle her out by making her out to be a villain.

Over a joke about a FICTIONAL character.

Because she started insinuating that lilspacewolfie had caused another user to 'go into a depressive spiral, and chased them away from the server with her insensitive comments about Houston', I got involved to shut that shit down. DesBea was always weirdly attached to me, because she had DM'd me a few times on Tumblr in the past. I can only guess that she thought that these few smatterings of messages made me her friend, and since, apparently, some people here think of me as being "Mr. John Payday", she figured that she could use me as an intimidating wall to hide behind whenever she was called out on her bullshit.

She was wrong.

After a while of still trying to get others in the server to hate lilspacewolfie for 'being mean to one of the other users in the server'--who ended up coming back once their mental health had improved, by the way--she finally left after the "Stop being a dick" post, and it took us a couple days to notice. So, all-in-all, it was a very weird and irritating experience, but, in this context, it shows a worrying trend of behavior that she ended up spreading to other servers.

Now, like I kind of glossed over earlier, I WAS a moderator in Red's Ramblers. (I ended up leaving the server last month due to personal reasons that're not germane to this situation, and I have no desire to talk about it on this forum.) As I was still a mod before I left, I took the time to delete every post and reaction made by people who were no longer in the server--this amounted to 7 people, DesBea included. So, all of her posts that I could've screencapped as evidence are gone, and even if they were still there, I wouldn't have access to them anymore, anyway. In fact, the only thing that I have left is this picture I took of my response to her whole "You're a bad person for hating Houston" spiel that she was going on and on about:

(I censored this to give some privacy to the person who DesBea tried to use as a cudgel to smack lilspacewolfie with blame for their condition at the time. Even though most people here probably won't recognize them from their in-server nickname, I didn't want to take any chances.)

But, anyway, as you have read from the callout post and these personal anecdotes that I have provided, her behavior in their server was an unsurprising, but also a very worrying trend that has effected at least 2 Discord servers and a good chunk of some of the people who were or still are in the Payday fandom.

If anything that y'all have read over these posts has angered any of y'all to the point of harassing her, PLEASE DON'T. Don't send her hate--anonymously or not. Don't engage with her. Just block her and make sure that others in the fandom are aware of her behavior, so they can avoid her if they wish to as well.

And, again, please tell me if she's operating under any usernames other than the ones I've listed. I was tired of her bullshit a long time ago, and I have no desire to entertain her further under yet another pseudonym.

[lawsvalentine]

Safe With Me • Law x reader •

Requested by @nyi72 : Can you write a fanfic with Law comforting a gn reader who just had a ptsd or panic attack out of nowhere?

Cee’s Note: Thank you for this request 🫶🏽 sorry it took long I hope you enjoy it ☺️

CW: mentions of trauma, descriptions of panic attack, fluff, gender not specified, reader and Law are not together but clearly like each other, reader feels like a burden, soft!Law

“Y/N-ya?”

You heard your captain from outside the door yet you remained silent, hoping he would just walk away.

It happened again.

You absolutely hated feeling this way.

The simplest things would trigger these emotions. The sound of raised voices, the loud bangs of objects colliding together, or glass shattering on the pavement and the haunting memories would start flooding your mind. Suddenly you were back at that place in your life before you had joined the heart pirates. The air starts getting denser and suddenly it feels like you’re suffocating.

This wasn’t the first time these overwhelming feelings would hit you out of nowhere but never had it happened in front of your captain.

Law had found you hyperventilating and sobbing in the hallway of the submarine. His medical instincts kicked in and he was quick to be at your side. He was familiar with the signs of panic attacks so he knew exactly what to do.

He instructed you to focus on your breathing. He demonstrated on himself, slowly breathing in and out, encouraging you to follow his breaths.

After a few shaky attempts you were able to slow down your breathing, your heart beat slowing down from its erratic pace. You could faintly make out his sharp features through your tears. Although his expression remained calm, his eyes held so much concern.

When you finally calmed down, your eyes widened in realization at what had just happened and you quickly rose to your feet and ran inside the door behind you which happened to be your bedroom. You locked the door, pressing your back against it, sliding down before burying your head in your arms from embarrassment.

Law was taken aback from your quick movements but stood from his crouched position and knocked on your door, calling your name. You remained at your spot, not budging an inch. After a few more knocks, it was quiet and you assumed he finally walked away.

That was until you heard a “Room” and “Shambles” and the book that was on your nightstand was replaced by your captain.

You were startled by his presence, forgetting about your captain’s teleportation powers.

“Y/N-ya, why did you run away from me?” Law questioned, eyebrows furrowed at you.

You sigh, trying to find the words to explain yourself but when you tried to speak it was as if the words were caught in your throat, unable to escape.

Law took notice of your lack of a response and slowly made his way towards you. He perched down and sat next to you on the cold pavement against the door. You two sat in silence for a moment, both trying to find the right words to say to one another.

“Ya know…you can talk to me”

You glanced next to you to see Law’s head down, hat lowered covering his eyes.

“I know I’m just your captain but….I do care about you Y/N-ya” his words were quiet yet soft.

The sincerity in his tone gave you the courage to finally speak.

“I didn’t want…you to see me like that” you admitted, eyes looking everywhere else but the man beside you.

“Why?”

Because I have a huge crush on you.

Because I don’t want you to think that I’m weak.

Because I don’t want to burden you with my issues.

“I just don’t…okay”, you sighed.

If only he knew

Law raised his head to study your features. Your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes made his heart ache. He knew that there was something plaguing your heart and he wished he could free you from the pain and sadness you must be feeling.

“I used to get those a lot too….when I was younger”, he admitted.

“I had a lot of fucked up things happen when I was a kid. The attacks eventually stopped but i still get night terrors once in a while about my past.”

Your eyes widened in shock at his confession. Your captain was a very private person, you’ve never heard him express his emotions or talk about his past.

You turned your head to look at him, his golden eyes met yours before shyly looking down again. He never opened up to anyone, not even Bepo.

“Thank you for telling me that”, you gave him a small smile. “I’m here for you too, if you need somebody to talk to”

Law raised his head to loom at you, his features had relaxed and he returned your smile.

“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you Y/N-ya” he joked.

This was a side you’ve never seen from Law but it was refreshing, seeing him smile and be less serious.

You giggled at his comment. “You did though, I guess you can say we’re trauma bonding”

He chuckled a bit at your comment. It was a sound you’ve never heard come from your captain, but filled you with butterflies nonetheless.

“Well, you don’t have to feel scared or alone. You’re safe here…with me” he said, peering down at your hand that was an inch away from his tatted one on the ground.

You followed his gaze and decided to do what he had wanted to do but was too scared to. You closed the space between each other’s hands, looping your pinkie with his. His eyes widened slightly, his cheeks getting pink by the sudden action. Despite his surprised expression, he didn’t move his hand away.

Law’s heart felt like it was beating 100 mph. Such a simple act, has gotten him feeling butterflies in his stomach. You sheepishly look at him, feeling your own cheeks heating up. You looked so adorable to him. He couldn’t help his gaze from going to your lips then back up to meet your eyes, almost silently asking you for permission.

You nodded your head, giving him the okay. Law stared at you for a moment before closing the space between you two, pressing his lips against yours for the first time.

His lips felt soft like a warm pillow and you couldn’t help but to sink into him, kissing him back tentatively. You could feel the tickle of his goatee against your chin, the slight sensation of your shared breaths under your nose.

Law gave you one last peck, before breaking the kiss. You both slowly parted away from each other, eyes blinking open. Law lowered his hat, trying to hide his flushed face. You giggle at his shyness, he was so cute and awkward.

“I..erm…should p-probably check on the crew” Law stuttered, rising to his feet.

You nodded, smiling slightly. “Thank you for helping me with my panic attack and our talk…aaand the kiss”

Law looked down at his feet, “I-erm yeah..uh..thank you too…I mean…no problem”

He hastily left your room and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself at his flustered behavior. Your usually calm and collected captain was a stuttering mess. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, Law’s words replaying in your head.

“You’re safe here….with me”

[amaiguri]

OC in 15 Tag Game

Thanks to the @the-down-upside-finch for the tag! It was forever ago and I think I need to redo my Tumblr intro to warn people that I do all my replies in bursts and I still love you all...

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I will, of course, be honoring my beloved Arlasaire today with a combo of spoken dialogue and narration. That being said, I don't really write good out-of-context bangers lines lol -- everything only barely works because of the context. (I wish I was. I'm not that cool though.)

"And it was my fault! Because I wasn’t enough!"

"You don’t care about me."

"You don’t know me."

"Nesa… I warned Zal so I’ll warn you too: I’m not very good at relationships."

"…I’m not a lady. The Aftokratoria has stripped away our titles, remember?"

"I was just House d’Magnia’s ward. They took me in after a Dragonstorm burnt down my village. Fed me. Trained me. Gave me purpose."

On that first day after they found me, — back before I was “Arlasaire”— I’d been the one to kill the spider crabs chasing Lord Einharde’s second lieutenant.

"Lord Einharde embodied the House words with all his heart. “Eshew Axiom for Ascendancy.” This made him cold, but he was good to me."

His name rotted in my memory now.

"…The Arlasaire you knew a year ago would not have slaughtered anyone, if YOU had asked."

I felt the familiar knife twist in my chest. I stifled laughter. Euphoria. What a beautiful liar…

The Burned Maiden bled from the body and it was just the girl. Just me.

"And then… I fell for this priestess lady. We kissed. And then… she also tried to kill me."

"It is too cold and dark to be kind. Spring is not like this in the North. You have to actually wear clothes."

"You… like me? Are we… a thing?"

...Guys, Arlasaire's so edgy and angsty, omg. I swear, she's actually a huge softie underneath, she's just not feeling safe in the narrative... And familiar toxicity feels safe...

So YEAH! I'd like to gently tag @maiemorrae @spideronthesun @marigold-clouds @words-after-midnight @wordswrittenbynight @nemaliwrites @cee-grice @zebee-nyx @junypr-camus and @dragonprincedawn -- and if you've done this already, feel free to just link me to the thing. Or do it again! Whatever!

[absurdthirst]

Pink Powder & Diamonds {Ezra x F!Reader|

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: Disabilities, missing extremities, sex pollen, dub con-ish, masturbations, inability to cum, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

Comments: Ezra comes back to the Green to harvest the Queen's lair with a new partner, you. When a mishap causes you to have to scavenge a filter off one of the bodies from his last trip to this cursed moon, it has startling results.

A/N: Dedicated to the lovely @pedropascalsx who had this amazing idea!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| Masterlist || Ezra (Prospect) MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The Green. You have heard the tales of the moon that is equal parts perilous and lucrative. If you were strong enough, smart enough and lucky enough - you could strike it rich. If you weren’t - the bodies of those that went before you littered the mossy floors of the forests and rotted away under the toxic atmosphere. Looking over from your chair, you watch him. His face is grim and you don’t miss the beads of sweat that break out on his forehead. Ever talkative Ezra has grown more and more quiet as the moon grows larger in your viewport. A beeping captures your attention and you look down at the instrument panel of your ship - ragged and beaten - but sturdy. “Time to atmosphere - two minutes.” You tell him as you silence the alarm and recheck your trajectory. 

Ezra grunts in response, anxious to get back to the Green that has haunted him since he escaped it the first time with Cee. She is thriving, escaping to enjoy a quiet life pursuing education but the pennies of disability benefits Ezra received were not enough to provide for his…more indulgent expenses, and he decided to return to the Green and seek the fortune that slipped through his fingers. Now that he is sporting one less limb due to darling Cee, he decided to enlist the help of a less experienced yet enthusiastic helper: you. 

He had met you during a bar crawl one night, drowning his sorrow and spending the credits he had been granted, and he found out that you are a fellow prospector. Something he did not believe due to your kindness, the sweet smile. You clearly hadn’t seen the harshness of the elements like he had. When you told him of your search for the queen’s lair, it was kismet. He needed a helper and you needed someone who knew where the lair resided. Ezra remains quiet, preparing himself for the terrain that awaits you both. Unforgiving and harsh, he knows you will need to use every ounce of strength to survive. He just needs to survive a second time. “Come on little lady, let’s get this tin can on the ground.”

Landing is always tricky, requiring your full attention and skills. Biting your lip, you ignore the alarms, watching your panel and adjusting the controls. Ezra had mapped out a landing sight before you had ever left, he didn’t want to be too close to the Queen’s lair, something about a man in pink powder and bodies. He had been pretty drunk that night and you just decided to accept it. “Breaking atmo.” You call out, watching as the flames give way to clear sky, the emerald green of the landscape below you dazzling.

Ezra grips the seat with his one hand, anxiety threatening to overwhelm him as you land expertly on the spot he had pre-planned and he looks over at you, a grin on his face as the dust settles. “Let’s go get our fortune, little lady.” He winks at you, suddenly confident.

You don’t mention how long it takes Ezra to get suited up. It’s a sore spot, considering the empty sleeve where his right arm used to be. He tries to hide it, but the extremely close quarters of your ship have let you witness his grunts and muffled curses as he tries to take care of simple tasks and sometimes fails. Still, you don’t offer. You don’t want to be snapped at like he had the first and only time you offered. Your tool kit is collected and rolled into your pack and you check your comms. “Are you ready?” You ask quietly, watching him fiddle with his helmet.

Ezra grits his teeth, swallowing down the retort that you don’t deserve. It’s not your fault that he’s slower, his missing appendage has him struggling with the suit he hasn’t worn since leaving the Green. “I’m practically vibrating with readiness, little lady. Shall we embark on the hazy mistress known as the Green?”

You hum your agreement and the hiss of the door sounds slightly ominous. Depressurizing the ship and opening up the door to the wonders of the Green outside. You step out first, lowering the stairs and concentrate on your much heavier pack while Ezra comes down. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want you coddling him. “So we will camp near the Queen’s lair?” You had thought it off that he did not want to land the ship right near the site for easy storage of the Aurelac that was to make both of you ‘rich beyond your wildest dreams’ according to Ezra.

Ezra didn’t want the ship to be too close to the lair, in case Kevva decided to grant him even more misfortune and decree that the pink monster from his prior excavation would reemerge and finish the job. He wanted to protect you as much as he yearned for the aurelac. “Make haste little lady, we need to set up camp and get ourselves situated before the darkness arrives.”

“How long were you here?” You ask as you start out from the ship, taking in the area and noticing some abandoned equipment. “The last time.” It’s a story he had told but you weren’t sure of the timelines. 

“Far too long, little lady. My time on this forsaken moon was something I would rather forget considering the consequences of my time here. I am back, however, to finish what was started. I have a vendetta against this Kevva cursed moon and I swear by her name that I will retrieve what is rightfully mine.”

You fall silent as you follow him. Obviously unsure of what to talk about and you don’t want him to be upset. This was too important to squabble and have a falling out before you are back on the Pug. The Queen’s lair is fabled, a deposit so rich that you could relax for the rest of your life, maybe go to a planet where the air is fresh and soil clean to live. Buy land. It is a heady dream and you want it to become reality, but first you have to harvest aurelac. A lot of it.

Ezra retraces the fateful steps he had taken with Cee to the place that held a greater fortune than most would see in their lifetimes. He’s hungry for it, greedy for it. He deserves it after the sacrifices he had made. He finally approaches the camp where those bastards had attempted to kill himself and the little bird. “There she is…the queen’s lair.” He announces once he has found the location, thankfully devoid of any other prospectors.

Your eyes widen at the expanse of the pit. You see at least fifty aurelac pods, unmolested and waiting to be harvested. There is evidence of work, tools scattered and you see a body on one side. This is where Ezra had his last stand from what you understand. “Holy shit.” You whimper. “Kevva praised.”

“It’s the Mecca of aurelac, little lady.” Ezra grins, so excited that everything is where it was when he made a mad dash to escape this moon the first time. “Shall we begin our endeavor? There is lots to excavate.” He grunts as he sets his pack down, kicking the remains of the bastard who tried to rat him out.

You giggle, nearly ecstatic at the sight of the digsite that he had brought you too. It was true. Every single rambling tale that he had told you about the Queen’s lair was true. You had believed him because of Cee mostly, the holo chat with the younger girl confirming that if he was lying, it was a practiced one. But right here before your eyes was the proof that he hadn’t been deceiving you. “I’ll set up our tent first.” You shrug out of your pack and set it down with a loud thump. “That way we can get out of our suits soon.” 

Ezra nods, despite his anxiety to get started as soon as possible, and he feels guilty for not being able to assist you in the erection of the tent. The expedition would be over prior to the tent being set up. “I shall endeavor to prepare our tools for the harvest, little lady.” He announces, watching you start to bend over and open the pack. He’d be blind to not see how beautiful you are, even in that suit.

It takes longer than you wanted it to. The thick fabric is cumbersome and you need to make sure that it is completely sealed properly. The toxicity of the moon needs to be filtered out through the little pump that will recycle the air inside and keep the two of you safe while you are out of your suits. Which will only be when you are finished for the day and wish to get sleep. You plan on harvesting this prize as quickly as you can before anyone can come across you. You hear Ezra curse in your ear but you don’t look over, busy with your own tasks until you finally close the last heavy seam with the velcro flap. “It’s done.” You pant, standing straight with a groan and stepping back to admire your handiwork. 

“Good girl.” Ezra praises, feeling guilty once again for not assisting you with such a difficult task. He knows how heavy those tents are but he’d be more of a burden than a help. “Shall we begin? There is much to harvest and I wish for us to get a head start before any unwanted guests arrive to distract us.”

You sigh quietly, wishing you could take a break, but you understand his need for haste. Instead of arguing, you move over the tools that Ezra has set out as well as he could. “I will harvest a few sacs before I cut them open.” You decide as you pick up the bottle of brine and a knife before you turn towards Ezra. “Does that sound okay?”

“Sounds like a plan, little lady. I am in your hands. It’s a good thing you aren’t in mine…less than capable with one hand and a downtrodden disposition.” He grunts, shifting to get into the pit to assist you as best as he is able to.

Biting your lip, you approach the first pod that you come to. The bulbous dome indicates there is a sac underneath its membrane. It will be easier to work in a grid, to methodically work through the field and pluck every aurelac stone you can from this deposit. Looking up at Ezra, you grin when he nods encouragingly at you and proceed to slice into the first one. 

Ezra watches you work, your deft fingers expertly removing the gem from the sac. “Kevva. You are blessed, little lady. Truly, you are performing this task with more expertise than I could only dream of.” He admits, shifting closer to continue watching you until you hand him the stone and he deposits it safely in the briefcase you’d brought along.

You hum, brow knitted together and bite your lip while you carefully extract the next stone. One wrong move would waste the entire thing. Ruin the pull and you are greedy enough that you want them all. Every single gem in the Queen’s lair is coming back to the Pug with you. 

You’re incredible. Deftly working to extract the precious gems and Ezra feels terrible that he can’t help you. There’s days of work ahead of you and all he can do is guide and assist you with ramblings from his previous time on the Green. When the sun starts to set, it’s time to retire and Ezra is certain that you are exhausted. “We cannot be exposed in the darkness, little lady. The Saters will surely discover our presence and will take the opportunity to pounce once we are shrouded in darkness, we will resume our excavation tomorrow.”

You nod, looking at the deposit longingly but you don’t argue. “Okay.” You start to pack away your tools, knowing you can do it much more efficiently than Ezra can. He closes the case and locks it with a passcode that both of you know. It was one thing you had insisted on, transparency. You weren’t going to get screwed over and one armed or not - Ezra could manage a backstab if he was inclined to. “It will be good to get out of the suit and to eat.” You offer as you climb out of the pit. 

“Precisely, let’s relax. Kevva knows you need it after such an arduous day. You’ve truly been Kevva sent, little lady. I would have never endured such a journey without your abilities. I shall thank you once our expedition has come to a close but for now, I wish for you to know of my appreciation.” Ezra professes. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You pant, picking up your tools and throwing them back in your bag to haul over to the tent. It wasn’t far away, just at the edge of the trees Ezra told you that they had used for cover when escaping the Mercs. It would be dark enough that if anyone stumbled upon the Queen’s lair, they wouldn’t see your tent or vice versa. “You’ve changed my life too. Now I just want some food.” 

Ezra smiles, keeping his eyes forward as he carries the briefcase while you carry the tools. "Nutribar will have to suffice, however, I do have a tipple of brandy if you are interested in something to help you relax after such an arduous day. You tell me, little lady, what you want, and I shall endeavor to do everything in my power to ensure you have what you desire."

You chuckle at his grandiose comment. “You have a special stash of supplies hidden somewhere?” You tease as you come to the tent and walk around Ezra to unzip it to allow both of you to enter. The rattle of the scrubber is soothing and you cannot wait to get out of the suit. While it was safer, the suit is hot and you want to cool down. 

“Only a flask.” He chuckles, groaning as he removes his helmet after you secure the flap to block out the fumes outside. He grunts as he tries to strip out of the suit with one hand. It’s a struggle but he manages without your help. He rejects help whenever he can, pride making him stubborn. “Sometimes, after a hard day, even a swig is the most relaxing indulgence.”

“Mhm.” You could think of a few other things that were also relaxing indulgences but you don’t bring them up. Even though the older man was exceedingly handsome, he had not once made an overture. You glance back at that small tuft of blonde hair and wish you could play with it. Or trace the silvery scar on his left cheek. Instead, you remove your own helmet with a groan and start to strip off your suit to hang up after you set down your pack of tools. 

Ezra’s struggles continue and he tries to hang up his helmet when he loses his balance. “Shit!” He yells, stumbling backwards to the heap of his suit and he hears something crack as his foot lands haphazardly on something. “Fuck!” He tosses the helmet down and kneels on the floor, panicking because he knows what that sound was. “Kevva forgive me! Fuck!” He growls, holding up the remains of his crushed filter.

Shit….Your eyes widen when you see the filter is damaged beyond repair. It had been expensive to gather supplies and fuel for this trip so you had both agreed that you would forego spares. Ezra looks furious. “It’s - we’ll figure it out.” You tell him, your mind racing as you think about how you could possibly make this work. “Maybe we can scavenge for a filter?” 

Ezra shakes his head, “no. No. The Saters…they would kill me if they saw me again. We can’t risk it. Fuck!” He growls, tossing the useless filter across the tent. “I don’t - shit. I don’t know what to do.”

You reach out and touch his hand. “I will go check the bodies.” You tell him suddenly. “Check their filters, maybe one will work for your suit?” You know Ezra has a dark past with the bodies that were scattered around the dig site and you’re sure he doesn’t want to come face to face with their remains. 

Ezra knows he has to let you do that but he’s worried about you going out there. “Take your thrower. We won’t take any chances.” He is grateful the sun is just setting and he hopes you make haste to return to the tent. “Go now, little lady, before the darkness shrouds the forest.”

Hurrying back into your suit, you are trying to assure him that you will be alright. “I will check the one that is closest to the tent first.” You promise as you seal your suit and reach for your helmet. “If there isn’t a good one I will go to the next until I find what you need.” 

“Be careful. If you perish, we are both damned to decay on this Kevva forsaken moon.” He warns, feeling even guiltier for leaving you to go out there alone. “Fuck!” He rubs his cheek after you leave the safety of the tent, counting the seconds until you come back.

Your breathing seems to echo in your helmet as you turn on the light next to your ear, keeping your eyes moving from the ground in front of you to the surrounding woods. Looking for dangers, some other floater wandering or those Sater than Ezra was worried about meeting. Running towards the dig site and the first body you had seen. Nearly tripping over it in the dark when you finally reach the face down body, you reach down and roll it over, nearly gagging when you see the decomposing face in the shield. She’s pink. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the unnatural hue to her skin but you try not to think about it as you prop the slightly squishy body on its side, trying not to think of the human soup in the suit and start to unhook the hoses and filter from the suit. It would have to work, as much as you shudder. Ezra is depending on it. 

Ezra is anxious, tapping his knees as he sits on the bunk and waits for your return. He is worried about you, wishing he didn’t have his disability so he could’ve avoided this entire situation to begin with. He sighs, watching the flap of the tent and trying to listen for you over the roar of the scrubber. “Come on little lady.” He orders, rubbing his hand on his thigh.

It’s more difficult to get back to the tent. You hear something and quickly shut off your light, couching in the darkness as you open channels and try to control your breathing. Listening for anyone talking but there is nothing but the stillness of the Green. He hadn’t told you how uneasy the quiet would become. Finally, you creep out of your little spot and stand up, deciding that you would make your way back to the tent in the dark just in case. 

When the flap opens, Ezra exhales in relief before he remembers and holds his breath, waiting for you to seal the tent and the scrubber to work its magic on the potent air. “Did you get one?” He asks, a little impatient but this is the difference between life and death for him.

Immediately unsealing your helmet, you gasp, nodding quickly and holding up the hoses and the filter that had been hanging off the body. “I got it.” You pant out. Your nerves are on high alert and even though you have been walking, it feels like you’ve run for hours. “It- It should work.” 

Ezra grins, “Kevva, you’re incredible, little lady. I need - let me see if it works now before we settle in for the night.” He suggests, reaching for his suit and helmet, he doesn’t bother dressing in the suit, only attaching the filter and hoses to the clothing before he places the helmet on his head and switches the filter on. “It works!” His voice is slightly muffled since you have taken your own helmet off and aren’t on the comms. It works for a few moments until a pink dust sputters through the filter and fills his helmet, making Ezra cough. “Kevva. What in tarnation is that?” He chokes, inhaling more of the dust.

Shaking your head, you frown. “I - she was covered in it when I- when I rolled her over.” You murmur. “It has to be some kind of additive she put in her filter? Maybe some kind of drug.” You shrug slightly and start to strip out of your suit once more. Eager to relax now that Ezra has another filter and you can sleep since you had been too excited the night before. 

Ezra coughs again but removes the helmet, hoping he can let the filter run to get rid of that powder shit. When you both get into your respective cots, he’s sweating and his cock…Kevva, it’s hard as steel. He pants, wondering what was in that powder and he glances over to see you’re asleep. Good, it was a long day for you. He reaches into his pants, wrapping his fingers around his cock and groaning softly at the slight respite he discovers.

The next morning, you slowly blink as your alarm goes off. You had heard Ezra grunting and shifting on his cot last night. It seems like he hadn’t slept well, maybe because of his unease with being back on the Green. You don’t know, sitting up and rubbing your eyes before you look over at where he is still laying. 

Ezra barely slept, his body almost throbbing as much as his cock and no matter how much jerking off he did, he couldn’t cum. He tried, fuck he tried, but he just couldn’t do it. Nothing seemed to tip him over the edge, not evening when he thought of you. He grunts as he sits up, cock still aching with need that hasn’t been fulfilled.

“Ez.” You gape at him in shock. “You look unwell.” You murmur, shifting off your cot to move over to him but he waves you away. “I- I don’t think you should come out to the sight this morning. You look like you didn’t sleep at all. Why don’t you stay and rest for a bit while I get started?” You offer, knowing that he would be dangerous if he tries to help while he is in such a state. 

“I can’t. I require a distraction from this - this fever. Let me - I will accompany you. I shall enjoy the walk, perhaps it will allow me to be rid of this - this minor inconvenience.” He shifts off of the bed, knowing it’s unavoidable that you would see his hard cock.

When he stands, your eyes widen for a moment before you avert your gaze. It is obvious and you cannot help but bite your lip, your cunt clenching at the thought of the tent you had seen in the sweats he wears under his suit. He was obviously in need of release and you wonder if he had been unable to take care of himself or if he was simply trying to ignore it. “I will get suited up then.” You announce cheerfully. 

Your cheery disposition has Ezra’s cock twitching and his entire being annoyed. He can’t believe you’re so chipper when he is in agony, his cock aching with need that he can’t seem to fulfill no matter how many times he jerks his cock. Giving up in the end when it became too sore and his wrist began to ache. The satisfaction never the same since he was forced to use his left hand. Still, he soldiers on, getting dressed and then changing into his newly modified suit.

It takes long minutes until he is ready, and you ignore his curses as he struggles into his suit. You know he doesn’t want help and he seems to be in a mood so you quietly eat a nutribar. He finally gets his suit hooked up and you reach for one of the pouches of liquified foods. “Do you want me to hook you up, or are you not hungry?” 

“Not hungry.” He growls, irritated from both lack of sleep and his current predicament. He sighs, adjusts the suit before he places the helmet on his head. “Let’s just go get the harvest. I want to get off of this damn moon as soon as feasibly possible.” He is harsh but fuck, he’s exhausted. When he turns on the filter once you’re outside the tent, the pink dust starts to fill his helmet again.

You walk to the dig sight quietly, unsure of why Ezra’s mood has changed so drastically. Hoping that it is just the lack of sleep or being uncomfortable, you decide the best thing you can do is to work hard to harvest as many of the gems as possible.

Ezra is struggling to walk considering the sizable erection he’s sporting, and he is grumpy. Unable to talk as the pink dust continues spurting into his helmet. Eventually, he can’t continue walking, folding over as his heart pounds in his chest.

Hearing him grunt rather loudly, you turn around to find him doubled over. “Ezra!” It’s alarming, making you spin on your heel and rush back towards him. He should have stayed in the tent, but you have no idea what is wrong with him, worried that the Green is affecting him to the point where it’s manifesting physically. “What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t - little lady, I cannot burden you with the current issue my body is experiencing. It would not be fair. It appears that the pink powder has - has acted as some kind of aphrodisiac and therefore I am - fuck - hard as a rock.”

Shocked, you glance down at his crotch, even though the suit would hide his predicament. “I- okay.” You shake your head, feeling guilty because you are the one that had brought him the filter. “You need to get back to the tent. You can- you work out your stress and I will harvest the gems alone to give you privacy.” 

Ezra shakes his head, “I can’t leave you alone to harvest. It’s too dangerous.” 

You scoff, “Ezra, with all due respect, you couldn’t protect me in that state. You need to go back to the tent and deal with it.” 

Ezra wants to scream, he has this opportunity to make the most money he’s ever known and he can’t do it because his cock is hard. “Fuck. Fine. Fine. I will go back.” He pants after the pain sears through him once more.

You watch him turn and stumble back towards the tent, sighing softly before you resume your own trek to the sight. Yes, it will be more perilous with just yourself out there, especially since you could not see anyone approaching, but it cannot be helped. You will harvest as much as you can today and hopefully it will give Ezra time to work out the lust that is swimming in his veins. Ignoring the way that your cunt clenches at the thought of him jerking off, you huff at yourself. He doesn’t want your help with his issues. 

Ezra stumbles back to the tent, ripping off his suit, and when he’s in his tatty pants and shirt, he rips those off, his skin overheating. “Fuck. Fuck!” He growls, desperate to shove his pants down so he can pull his hard cock out. Wrapping his fingers around his length, he jerks himself off but he can’t seem to get himself to completion.

You are there for hours. Carefully cutting the sacks out of the ground and slicing them open. Knowing that you are making the both of you richer with every gem you carefully put into the case. Stopping to scan the area before continuing to stay as safe as you can. You wonder how Ezra is doing and decide that as soon as you fill this case you will head back to check on him. 

Ezra groans, sweat now dripping down his cheek as he lets go of his cock. “Fucking - Kevva you forsake me even jerking off my cock?” He growls, frustrated beyond all means. He can’t seem to cum. Nothing will alleviate the aching in his groin and he is exhausted, his wrist aches from overuse. He is still lost in the haze of lust and nothing will satiate it.

Packing up the case carefully, you leave the site and head back to the campsite. Hoping that Ezra has worked his issues out and is resting now. You click the comms when you are in sight of the tent, but you don’t hear him respond. There is no way for you to call out, so you simply unzip the tent and give him a moment before you throw the flap open and enter.

When you enter the tent, Ezra doesn’t even have the ability to look at you. He doesn’t have anything in his mind except trying to stop this ache. After you walk in, he can’t even muster any embarrassment, need just overtaking his body while he tries to jerk himself off again.

You bite your lip, trying to avoid looking over at him to give him a modicum of privacy. “No luck working it out of your system?” You ask after you pull your helmet off. You hear him now, the frantic near groaning in pain as he pants our rhythmically.

Ezra shakes his head, frantic and in near agony. “Fuck little lady. I just - nothing seems to work. My hand - it’s useless.” He groans, sweat dripping down his chest since he abandoned all of his clothes.

You have heard that sentiment from him several times after learning that his loss of limb is recent. “You have not cum at all?” You ask and Ezra growls. 

“No!” His frustration is evident and you bite your lip, the sound of him jerking his cock makes your stomach flip and your own heart speeds up in your chest. 

“What do you need?” You venture softly. 

Ezra doesn’t want to ask but honestly, at this stage, he has no choice. He chokes, feeling guiltier than ever before as his dark eyes focus on you. “Can you- little lady, what I require is beyond what I could request of you but I need your touch. Please.” He begs, body almost shaking with need.

Surprised that he has actually voiced it, you nod. It’s not like you would detest touching him. In fact,  you will enjoy being able to touch him like you wish. “Let me get out of my suit.” You murmur, starting to pull it off quickly and stripping down to your base layers. Ezra is practically whimpering, his hand still working over his cock even though you can see he is not finding any pleasure in it. After pausing for a moment, you pull your shirt over your head to reveal your unbound breasts and push your leggings down so you are as bare as he is. 

“Fuck little lady. You didn’t -” His protest of you stripping down dies on his lips when you reach out and replace his hand on his cock, your fingers wrapping around the throbbing length. “Kevva.” He hisses, “are you sure?”

You snort, wondering why he would think you would have your hand wrapped around his cock if you were not sure. “I will not mind touching you.” You admit, flustering slightly when you pump him. HIs cock is nearly raw, dry and you know it has to hurt. You keep your grip light, making him whimper and roll his hips forward but you step closer and sink down to your knees in front of him on his cot, leaning forward and taking the head into your mouth. 

“Kevva!” Ezra yelps, eyes widening as he looks down at you. His hand grabs the back of your head, not moving you but the feel of your wet, hot mouth on the head of his cock feels better than anything he has felt from his own hand for hours.

Humming, you grin as your tongue presses against the head and you love the salty little spurt of pre-cum that coats your tongue. You want to help him, he’s sweating and shaking, nearly at his breaking point. You would have come back soon if you had known he was suffering. Taking him deeper, you make it wet. Opening your mouth more and letting the saliva coat him generously before your lips slide back over the velvety skin of his cock. 

Ezra pants, eyes closing before he forces himself to look at you. You look gorgeous, practically angelic as you take his cock into your mouth over and over again. “Fuck. Sweet girl. I can’t - it’s too much. I’m going to cum.” He warns you, allowing you time to pull off of him.

You don’t pull away. You can tell he has not cum in this entire time he has been in agony. You keep the pressure, the suction of your mouth constant, reaching out and fondling his full and taunt balls in your hands. Willing him to fall over the edge for you. 

The cry that escapes Ezra’s lips is loud and full of relief. “Fuck!” He yelps, his fingers gripping your head as his cock pulses in your mouth. He groans, watching you as you swallow every drop that escapes his cock. He’s lost in the haze of pleasure, his entire body taunt and he groans your name.

He’s still hard when you pull off of him, but it might just be because he has been without release for so long. You hum, wiping your jaw where your split had rolled down your chin and grin up at him. “Better?” You ask, willing to let him rest if he was satisfied. It’s been a long day for him.

The brief moment of reprieve has Ezra slumping over, until the heat and the ache returns tenfold. “Shit. No. No, little lady. It appears that my - my damnation shall continue. I need - fuck - I need more.” He reaches down to grip his cock again, whining at the roughness of his hand compared to your velvet tongue.

You bite your lip, watching him slowly jerk himself off and grimacing in pain. “Do you want my mouth again?” You ask, feeling the slickness between your thighs and it drips down to the tent floor, soaking into the fabric. “Or do you want to fuck me?” 

Ezra’s eyes widen, “I don’t - I can’t - I’m - fuck little lady. Do not dare to bait me with such pretty invitations and then withdraw them once it becomes a reality. I desperately want to push inside what is undoubtedly one of the sweetest pussies I’ve ever had the pleasure of fucking but only - only - if you allow me. If you do not fear that you will regret letting me into your body.”

Standing, you take his hand, pulling it away from his cock. Sliding it between your thighs and guiding him to your soaked folds. “This is what sucking your cock does to me, Ezra.” You admit with a small moan of pleasure at his touch. “I have- have been wanting to touch you and have you touch me.” 

Ezra’s eyes widen and his fingers slide through your folds, rubbing your clit. He groans, unable to believe you’re so wet. He knows you didn’t inhale the pink powder so this is all you. “Fuck baby. You want - Kevva - sit on my cock. Please.” He begs, wanting to be inside of you. 

Moaning when he pulls his fingers away and slides them into his mouth to taste your essence, you push him back into the cot gently. It would make sense for you to ride him, especially since he is still throbbing and leaking against his stomach. “I’ll sit on your cock.” You coo as you straddle him. “Imagined you filling me up, stretching me out in this beautiful, thick cock.” You wrap your hand around his length so you can position him at your entrance and start to slowly sink down on him.

The whine that escapes his lips is pathetic but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed when your hot, silky cunt grips his throbbing cock. “Kevva have mercy.” He gasps, his hand gripping your hip. He can’t believe you are doing this for him and it has him on the edge of cumming already but he tries to hold off.

He’s gorgeous as he furrows his brow. You can feel the way that he is bracing his feet on the end of the cot and tensing under you. Instead of lifting off him, you circle your hips and grind down onto him, moaning quietly. “Feels so good.” You murmur. “I have an implant, want you to fill me up.”

Your permission has him on the edge and his chest heaves as he looks up at you. His hand sliding up your side until he cups your breast, pinching your nipple while your walls flutter around him. “Shit. You feel - you feel like what I have always envisioned nirvana - not that I would ever reach such a place - would feel like.”

You smile slightly, eyes closed while you continue to grind down on him. “Same.” You whimper when the head of his cock pushes deliciously against your back wall, pulsing harshly. “You fill me up so perfectly.” You rock back slightly, bracing yourself on his thighs and start to slowly roll your hips. Hoping he doesn’t mind the less than frantic pace while you get used to him. He’s thick and wonderful and you know you will ache after this.

The feel of your hot, wet cunt around his cock proves to be too much. With a hiss, he rocks up into you and paints your walls with his hot seed. “Shittttt.” He groans, feeling another slight moment of respite. “Shit I - i apologize little lady for the lack of warning.” He pants, thighs shaking beneath you as his cock throbs but remains hard as steel inside of you.

You give a small chuckle and lean forward to caress his chest. “Don’t worry about it.” You press your lips to his. “You do what you need to work this out of your system. At least you are cumming now.” He’s still hard, so you start to move again, feeling like he’s not done quite yet. The slick spurts of cum start to push out of you around his cock and slide down to pool at his groin.

Ezra’s hand grips your hip, wanting you to move a little faster, and he wants you to cum too so his hand shifts to find your clit. His dark eyes look up at you, so incredibly ethereal as you move on his cock, working yourself on his length as his cum drips down onto his skin but he doesn’t care, too focused on you.

“Oh, oh fuck.” You whimper when his thumb starts to rub your clit, pressing perfectly and haphazardly against your sensitive flesh. Giving him what he wants by starting to move faster, rocking back and forth on his cock and sitting straighter so he plunges deeper into your cunt. “Oh fuck.”

Ezra hisses when your walls grip him as you start to ride him, his thumb urgently pressing against your clit. He wants you to cum for him before he fills you again. The need still surges through him but he desperately wants you to cum first. “So fucking beautiful. Like an angel Kevva herself sent to me for salvation from the burning.

You love the flowery words, making your stomach clench and you whimper again as your eyes close. “Gonna take care of you.” You promise. “Don’t- don’t want you to hurt. Want you to feel good.” One hand slides up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers and your walls flutter again. “So close. Keep- keep rubbing.” You beg, needing to cum.

Ezra obeys eagerly, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit and sweat drips down his neck, landing on the bunk below. Each roll of your hips has him groaning your name as he gets closer to his own high, but he wants to watch you fall over the edge. “Cum for me, little lady.” He orders, voice raspy and throat dry.

That voice, that is what throws you over the edge. The normally drawn out cadence that sounds like syrup is rough and makes your entire body respond to his command. Throwing your head back,  you feel your cunt lock down around his cock as you cry out. The heated rush of pleasure melting through your veins and soaking his length in a wet gush. 

“Fuckkkkk.” Ezra groans, loving how you soak him and the look on your face as you cum. Mouth open as you toss your head back in pleasure. He’s addicted, fuck, he’s addicted. He continues rubbing your clit despite you stilling, thighs shaking as you straddle him, and he groans your name again. “Fuck.” He wishes he could turn you over, fuck you hard into the bunk, but he doesn’t have that ability anymore. “Hands. Get on your hands and knees.” He orders.

His fingers still move, overstimulating you while your body jerks and shakes on top of him, trying to continue moving. “Oh Kevva.” You pant, collapsing against his chest for a moment and his hand is trapped between you. “Give me- it’s been a long time since I’ve- since I’ve cum because of someone else.” You admit. “I’ll move again in a second.”

Ezra allows you the moment to relax despite the ache in his groin. Your comfort is of the utmost importance to him despite the pain he is experiencing from the drug still pulsing in his system. "Take your time, little lady." He sighs, rubbing your back with his hand after freeing it from between your bodies.

You can feel that he is still hard, the slight rolls of his hips not escaping your blissful state. Figuring that he is still in pain and needs to cum again, you sit up and kiss his lips. “Take what you need, Ez.” You murmur softly, ��don’t worry if I cum again. Use me to deal with the pain.” 

His responding groan is strangled and he hisses when you shift away from him, making him sit up while you settle into your hands and knees. “Fuck. You are gorgeous.” He hisses, slapping your ass with his hand. He grips his cock with his hand, shuffling forward until he can position his cock at your entrance. He hisses with relief when he pushes deep inside of you, your hot, wet cunt enveloping him. “Fuck little lady. So - so awe inspiring. I could ramble off lines of poetry about this pussy but I’d much rather fuck it.”

Moaning in agreement, you rock back against him. Dropping down to your elbows so you can let him take control, press you down or move you as he needs to. “It’s so good, want you to - to fuck me like you imagined.” You pant. “Before this. I know you wanted to. I wanted to fuck you too.” 

Ezra hisses at the way your walls flutter around him as he pushes deeper into you. The way your cunt grips his cock makes him breathless and he growls, gripping your hip to give himself a moment. When he has his balance, he starts to rock his hips, pushing deep before he pulls out of you. He pushes deeper each time, his pace is slow but deliberate and he kisses your spine.

If you had expected him to be fucking into you fast and furiously, you were mistaken. Moaning softly,  you stretch your spine out, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. “Ezra, how are you feeling?” You pant quietly, wanting to make sure he is not in any pain. 

“Good. Still - still fucking burning but you feel so good baby. So fucking good around my cock. I can’t wait to feel you cum around me again and again and again. You’re like the sweetest cavern and I cannot wait to sample your honey.” His words are scrambled but he’s so lost in how you feel.

You let him keep the pace that seems to be best for him. Knowing that he wouldn’t make himself hurt. “Whatever you want.” You promise him. “I’m here. You’re going to rest and tomorrow we will harvest more aurelac.”

Grunts escape his lips and he rocks into you with hard but precise thrusts despite the heat still surging through him. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hip. “Fuck. Want to see you dripping with diamonds while you take my cock. Want to see you drip your juices onto a fucking gem and then I want to fuck you while we lay on a beach on some planet somewhere, just enjoying life. No more bullshit. No more running or prospecting.”

Your brow shoots up in surprise but you moan at the idea. It’s heady, thinking about never worrying again and just being able to live and relax. “You gonna fuck me every day?” You pant out. “Getting addicted to your cock.”

“Kevva.” Ezra hisses, “if I had my way, you’d sit on my cock all day. We’d only move for bodily functions and we would indulge. Laze around and do everything we - we want. I’d indulge your every desire. Whatever my little lady requires.” He pants, lost in the fantasy of being buried inside of you like this every day.

You know that he is lost in a haze of drugged sex and pleasure from being buried in your body while he works through it. It wouldn’t be fair to hold him to it when this is over, but you moan at the idea, not opposed to it at all. When he gathers all his riches, he will not need you but he will leave you available to do what you wish by yourself. You rock back and clench around him, indulging in the vision of having a partner - him - for just a moment while you go what you wish. “So good.” You whine, closing your eyes while his cock hits something amazing. 

Kissing your back, Ezra bends over you, his chest pressed against your back as he rocks his hips. “So good, my gem. Fuck - so good. Feel so good. So much better than my hand.” He hisses, rocking into you a little faster as his next high builds up.

You hum, feeling his cock start to push into you faster, collapsing down onto your cheek on the cot and moaning when the change of angle feels amazing. “You - you look so good.” You pant out. “Hard and lusty with you-your cock in your hand.”

“You are - you are created by Aphrodite herself.” He groans, rocking deep and hard as he seeks his next orgasm. “Fuck. This tight little cunt is gonna make me cum.” He hisses, his hips slamming against your ass as he picks up his pace.

“Good.” You whimper, closing your eyes as he rocks you forward on the bed. York fingers twist in his blanket and you can feel the cum and arousal sliding down your lips and dripping onto the cot. “Want you to feel good.”

Ezra hisses, his cock pulsing as he pushes deep before he paints your walls with more hot seed, pushing it out with every rock of his hips and he groans out as the pleasure takes over from the pain, the heady lust relieved for a few special moments as his cock pulses.

The chances that Ezra is done are probably fifty-fifty, but you let him collapse on top of you and pant, his lips pressing against your back. Humming, you smile at how exhausted he sounds and you wonder if this is why he had such a bad night. He had tried the filter before going to bed to see if it worked. “I wonder what is in that filter?”

Pulling out of you, Ezra kisses down your spine until he can shuffle off of the bed. He kisses your thigh and before you can gasp, he slides his tongue through your cum slick folds, not caring around his own taste but he wants you to cum once more as a thank you to helping him. “Fuck.” He groans, sliding his tongue through your folds.

“Ezraaaa.” You moan, eyes closing and shudder. “You need to rest if you are done.” 

“Not until you cum.” He growls, nose pressing against your clit as his tongue sliding into your folds with a hum of delight. The urgency has passed and he wants to thank you for helping him through such a dire situation. “Little lady,” He smacks his lips together, “I want you to cum on my tongue.”

It’s decadent, bordering obscene to lay here with your ass up while Ezra licks through your folds. Making you clench slightly when his aquiline nose presses against your puckered hold and his moan vibrates against your clit. “Oh fuck.” You grip the edges of the cot and your toes curl. “Love that mouth. Your voice- tongue.” You whimper

Ezra is eager to please, lapping a little more at your cunt, sucking on your clit and his hand caresses your side, wanting to make you feel as good as you made him feel when he was buried in your cunt.

It doesn’t take you long. The fact that you’ve been fucking for hours have you primed for another orgasm. Instead of screaming through your, it slowly overtakes your system, making you shudder and cry out a garbled whine of his name.

Ezra feels your entire body shake and he grips your hip, keeping you close while his tongue slides through your folds, flicking over your clit until your hips jerk away from him. He groans, kissing your ass cheek before he playfully bites it. “Fuck little lady, that was - so fucking delicious. Glad the incessant torture of the powder has subsided.”

You lift your head and smirk, shifting so he can lay down beside you. “Now you can rest.” When he is on his back, you turn over and caress his cheek. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Kevva, I’m starving…and thirsty.” He admits, knowing that it’s been a while since he last ate and the energy he’s used to jerk off and fuck you. He’s starting to realize that he wants to do it again, minus the pink powder. He wants you.

Kissing him gently, you nod. “Rest.” You urge him, “I will get you some water and something to eat.” Standing on shaky legs, you stumble over to the pack that contains your nurtibars and some water for him. You bring them over along with a pack of the sani-wipes so that you can clean both of you up.

Ezra flops down onto the bed, his hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat that accumulated there. He rests his head on the pillow, exhaling in relief that the burn of the powder has finally left his body. “I cannot verbalize the extent of my gratitude to you, little lady, for seeing me through such a trial.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you to die of misery.” You open the bottle for him, not giving him the chance to argue that he can do it and hand it to him while you open up his nutri-bar. He needs to rest and you don’t want to watch him struggle when you can help. “Death by lack of orgasm.”

Ezra grunts as he sits up, bracing himself on his arm before he is balanced and can drink the water from the bottle. He snorts, “fuck. That’s a shit way to go. I can only spend the rest of my days telling you how sincerely grateful I am for you allowing me the chance to seek relief in your body.”

You smirk and put the bar down beside him and open the wipes. He had filled you up several times, your cum and his crusted on the inside of your thighs. Your lips are tender from fucking for so long but it’s a pleasant type of burn. “Ez, you would have done the same for me, I know you would have.” You shoot him a grin. “Besides, I had the best orgasms I’ve had in cycles.”

Ezra smirks, pleased that you enjoyed it. “My cock is available for any pleasure you seek, little lady.” His face grows serious, “I meant what I said…I want to spend a luxurious life with you.” He murmurs, watching you with a smile as you clean up.

After you clean up, you pull another wipe out and come over to Ezra. He had spent a day sweating and agonizing over his inability to cum. Being careful of his presumably raw cock, you start cleaning him up as well. “First we need to finish harvesting the aurelac and then we can decide where we want to idle away our time and fortunes.” You promise, leaning in and giving him a tender kiss. “Together.”

With a soft smile, Ezra pulls you down onto him with his arm, “together, little lady. Let’s get some rest and tomorrow I will assist you with getting rich beyond our wildest dreams. I just need to flush that damn filter. Bastard powder nearly killed me. I’m a fragile being.” He chuckles, kissing your neck.

Snuggling into him, you wrap your arm around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. Exhausted from the day harvesting gemstones and then fucking, you close your eyes. “Strong enough to survive the Green, Ezra.” You whisper. “And this time when you leave, you will have a ship full of riches.”

“I think I have discovered the greatest treasure on the Green. You, my little lady, make me the richest man in the entire universe. I wish to keep you by my side until I draw my last breath. Now, let’s test and tomorrow, we will harvest the Queen’s Lair and escape from this Kevva cursed moon.”

****

The tranquil waters lap against the crystal white sands on Armethia, the dual suns bright in the sky. There’s no one around you, just the way you enjoy it. 

After getting back to the Pug, you discovered the price of aurelac had tripled, making the Queen’s lair even more profitable. Some, of course, had been sent to Cee, to provide for her while she is in school and whatever she chooses to do. After some convincing, you had talked Ezra into being fitted with a synthetic arm, making him feel better and right now those arms are wrapped around you, his cock buried deep inside you.

Ezra groans, kissing your neck as you rock your hips to meet his thrusts. "Fuck, little lady. You are exquisite. I am a lucky son of a bitch. You're all mine. My diamond." He murmurs, kissing along your jaw and the diamonds around your neck sparkle in the sunlight streaming into your room.

You hum, turning your head to smile down at him, caressing his cheek and pressing your lips to his while both of you continue to languidly fuck each other. Passion has been constant since that day on the Green with the pink powder, never fading away and the love between you has grown as you have journeyed to where you are right now. “All yours.” You promise, grinding down onto him. “Yours and yours alone.”

Ezra knows he may have only been seeking the Queen’s Lair but in the end, he is rich beyond his wildest dreams. Forget the credits from the aurelac, he has you. For that, he will forever thank Kevva for his fortune. You are the most incredible creature and he is lucky to call you his. He will never step foot on the Green again but it has given him the family he secretly yearned for with Cee and you. His family and his fortune…may Kevva bless him until the day he dies. Hopefully buried inside of the woman he loves.

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

cee! since we've been talking about prince!txt a lot, i have a thought for you: prince beomgyu who sneaks out disguised as a commoner because he wants to experience life outside the castle walls. the royal court is overprotective of him but he wants nothing more than to experience the beauty of his kingdom: why is he only reading about its lush forests, bustling market squares, and hospitable citizens from stuffy old books instead of experiencing them for himself?

when he finally steps out and enters the main town, he's overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds and smells. people shove past him and someone even pickpockets him, and he flees into a narrow alleyway to collect himself. he's tired and hungry and lost all his pocket money, so he can't even buy himself a little food. that's when beomgyu encounters you, a young bookbinding apprentice on the way to the market to buy some raw materials for your job.

you save his life that day - with the money you do have, you buy him something good to eat. you can tell he's not used to life in the main town, and beomgyu quickly makes up a lie that he's a visitor from another kingdom, which you don't question. so you dedicate the day to showing him the best of his own kingdom: to a bakery whose bread is even better than the ones served in the castle, to a bubbling creek that attracts birds, to a wide street where you two can watch the sun set over the houses. when the sky starts to turn dark, he tells you he has to go, and you escort him to the main road leading to the castle. you keep a gentle hold on his hand the whole time and he can't stop thinking about how warm you are...

beomgyu makes many more trips outside the castle walls to see more of his kingdom, and more of you. he loves the excited smile on your face when you show him something new, and the way you don't hesitate to hold his hand or put a hand on his shoulder to guide him through the town streets. part of him fears that if (or when?) you figure out who he really is, you'll start treating him differently, so for now he relishes the kindness you show him. and the more time he spends around you, the harder it is for him to ignore his heartbeat going faster.

-- violet / bhj 🖤

I'm so sorry that I'm just getting to this now! It blows my mind that you sent this to me while I was writing a book-centric Prince Beomgyu story of my own, and thank you for blessing my inbox with this wonderful thought. I think he might have temporarily become my favourite when it comes to prince txt aus 🤫

I love every concept you've used here. Him wanting to know more about his kingdom first hand – it suits Beomgyu so well, especially sneaking out in disguise. I also love that when he’s finally venturing out his first experience is less than idylic, it's such a good contrast!

A bookbinding apprentice sounds so cool, are you kidding? I think it would be so interesting to get to have a hand in making books, especially how they used to use leather and stitch the pages in by hand and do the gold foiling on the covers – but I digress!

This is so cute and lovely 🫠 Just thinking about Beomgyu in a borrowed cloak, his eyes lighting up as he tries food from outside the castle, rosy cheeks hidden in the dark while someone holds his hand for the first time, having these little adventures 🥹 ah, this gave me so many feelings and I had to read it several times because I didn't want it to end!