#I GOTTA KISS HIM OR ILL EXPLODE

[sin-simps]

Chat I GOTTA KISS HIM, I think that would fix me

[todayisafridaynight]

FIRST OF ALL DAIGO GAMEPLAY REAL

Second of all finished Chapter 1 <3 I watched an Xbox stream muted at 2x while skipping battles because I wanted to save the proper experience for my friend's stream and your stream but uhhhhh <3 without saying too much or setting any expectations <3 personal favorite Kiryu game no contest LOL but I figured it would be so no surprises there... I'm def taking note of how long individual chapters might take and stuff since this wasn't exactly an Optimal Playthrough but we'll get there when we get there

DAIGO GAMEPLAY REEEEEEEEEAL 🗣️🗣️🗣️ OBSESSED WITH HOW HE JUMP KICKS SON STOP THAT YOU'RE GONNA HURT YOURSELF--

but gottamn already done with chapter 1- VERY MUCH APPRECIATE MAKIN MENTAL NOTES ON CHAPTER LENGTHS if that gameplay wasnt optimal then heh 😏 i promise to be worse 😏

[1-800-be-my-baby]

rafe x bitch!reader pt.2

MDNI 18+ | pt. 1 here warnings: spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, creampie, semi public sex, that's it i think let me know if i missed any

with the knowledge of how mad you left rafe, you can't stop the smile that slowly creeps onto your face. however, your victory doesn't last long. a large hand roughly grabs the back of your neck, yanking you back until you collide into a hard surface. not even needing to look up you already know who it is.

"you think you're reallll funny huh?"

"rafe-"

"shut up. you're gonna listen to what i gotta say or shit is only gonna get worse for you, understand?" you attempt to pull out of his hold, his grip only tightening with your lack of response.

"rafe let me go!"

"nah, think you can pull that kinda shit? disrespecting me in front of everybody. i think you need to be taught some respect." the implication of his words cause goosebumps to coat your skin. dragging you to his truck, he opens the door to the backseat. "get in. don't make me force you."

you open your mouth, a protest ready to escape. before you get the chance he lifts you up, practically throwing you into the truck. the fear of what's to come causes heat to pool in your lower stomach. rafe climbs in behind you, slamming the door.

in a blink of a eye your bent over his lap, a harsh slap landing on your ass. rafe kisses his teeth, "thinkin' you can talk to me like that, must've lost your damn mind."

an influx of salty tears begin gathering at your waterline, each smack to your ass harder than the last. you jolt forward, causing your clit to rub against his thigh. a laugh escapes rafe when he hears the small whimper that forces its way out of you.

"should've known a greedy slut like you would get off on this. you're probably soaked."

"rafe please! ill be good, i promise. just stop!" tears have started to cascade down your cheeks, leaving streaks of mascara in its wake.

"shoulda thought about that before. 10 more, you can do it baby." rafe places one last harsh slap, sobs now racking your body. he softly runs his hands over the now red and broken skin. "see, knew you could do it." laying you face down on the seat, he rips the shorts of your body.

"rafe not here! people might see!"

"didn't care about that when you were running that big fucking mouth of yours. now its my turn not to care." you recognize the sound of rafe pulling his pants down, and without warning he slams his length into you. "fuck. so tight, this pussy was made for me i swear."

as the pain from the stretch subsides, you let out a loud cry, his tip hitting your cervix with each thrust. "not so much to say now, huh?"

with the way his cock is hammering into your weeping cunt you can't find it in you to respond. you harshly grip onto the door, needing something- anything to ground you. he pushes your head further into the seat, allowing him to hit your g spot continuously. all you can do is let out pornographic moans, the pleasure so overwhelming you don't know what to do with yourself. your head is foggy with lust and you're beyond cock drunk. rafe begins to thrust into you impossibly harder, jaw clenched so hard he feared it might break. he snakes a hand around your front, rubbing harsh circles against your clit. his thrusts become sloppy he nears his release.

your cunt clenches against him as your orgasm threatens to explode out of you. before you can cum his hips still, his hot seed filling you, the mixture of your arousal running down your thighs. a loud whine leaves your throat at your orgasm being ripped away from you.

rafe lets out a laugh from behind you. "oh im sorry, did you think i was gonna let you cum? disrespectful sluts don't get to cum. be grateful i gave you dick at all." he pulls out of you, pulling his shorts back up. "get dressed." he hands your shorts to you before getting out of the car and hopping into the drivers seat.

after getting dressed you slide into the passenger seat, your makeup now ruined from tear stains. he takes you back to tanneyhill, your punishment far from over.

tag list: @niyahwhoreworld @sadgrl99 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

[toxycodone]

modern au laios when you tell him you wanna go on T. its anxiety inducing but honest to god i see him going like “oh yeah, i didnt wanna push you but honestly i was wondering when you were gonna tell me.” absolutely taken aback but still nervous, telling him about all the effects: but ill look and smell and sound different and what if you dont like me anymore?? he looks up and thinks for a moment before resolutely saying “hmm, no i dont see that happening.” its hard to rid yourself of the seed of doubt until hes there with you at your appointments and helping you with your injections and pointing out new sprouting hairs and excitedly measuring your tdick growth before sucking it down like hes a parched man in the desert -ez

Oh this is the most self fucking indulgent ask you could’ve sent me ez. Do you want me to die. I am going to explode. FUCK.

ship. Laios Touden x Reader

content. sfw + nsfw. ftm!reader + gender dysphoria + Laios just being a good boyfriend for transitioning reader

OH MY GOD. Yes yes yes. Laios’s sexuality is so fluid to me. He’s just attracted to YOU. You looking different or being different doesn’t phase him at all

Like when you bring up how T will change your body and stuff he’s just like 🤷 so. You’re still gonna be you. And like. That may be hard to believe at first but then you come to see just how genuine he is,,,

Laios sits in on your doctor appointments and actually LISTENS. Learns how taking testosterone will affect your body + voice + even your personality at times and like. He’s preparing himself mentally for it all.

When the doctor demonstrates how to give yourself a T shot, Laios watches intently. And the next appointment he asks the doctor to let him do it and show him (if it’s okay with you).

And when you’re feeling dysphoric, Laios just listen to you and hold you tight. He’s not the best at reassuring you besides just being honest, because you’re always going to be a man to him. And that’s his form of validating you. But he lets you vent and be sad and just kisses you sweetly and tries to get your mind off things

BUT HES ACTUALLY SO FASCINATED BY HOW TESTOSTERONE CHANGES YOU!!! Like oh my god your voice? Your body hair?? He’s like fangirling. Laios is probably equally if not more excited than you are about the changes happening to you. Because not only is biology and the human body amazing but! You’re becoming more yourself!! He sees just how much happier and how confident you are and is just over the moon. It makes him happy to see you happy

AND YOUR T DICK. FUUUUUCK DONT EVRN GET ME STARTED

Laios calls it your cock without even being prompted he’s like “you’re growing a penis,,,” and is all 👀

MEASURING IT. Y E S. he’s so enthralled by like how much your body is changing it’s insane to him in the best way possible.

He’s gotta have it in his mouth IMMEDIATELY. He’s slurping on that shit like no other it’s gross because he’s just not even holding back the gross wet sounds

AND. HE. HE NEEDS YOU TO FUCK HIM WITH IT. Immediately. He doesn’t care if it’s short and if you wanna do it with a fake sheathe he’s totally fine but PLEASE. Fuck his ass. He needs it.

[prettyyoungandbored]

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning - Charlie Dalton

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x Fem!Reader

Sequel to The Night Before

WARNINGS: Very brief nudity. Read at your own risk.

Author’s Note: I probably should have clarified this in the story before but Charlie and the reader are in their 20s.

NOT MY GIF

There was something peaceful about the early morning hours. There was a blue haze in the sky. Night was leaving, and the sun was beginning to brace for its shift in the sky.

While New York was the city that never slept, Y/N and Charlie’s brownstone was in a fairly quiet neighborhood, fairly being the key word. But for this particular morning, everything felt still.

Y/N couldn’t believe it. She wondered if she woke up from her dream and into another one. Maybe the city knew she needed some quiet before the craziness that came before a wedding.

Either way, she was grateful.

She lay in the bed, her naked body tangled in the thin, white sheets. She turned over to see Charlie lay beside her, deep in sleep.

Her hand carded through his hair as she smiled. She wasn’t sure what she had done in a past life that allowed her be loved by him. There was never a dull moment that passed when she was with him.

Sure, Charlie could be a little shit, but it never crossed the line. He made her laugh until her stomach hurt and made her feel loved and supported.

Charlie’s face scrunched as he stirred awake.

“What’re you doing up?” he yawned.

“I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep,” she whispered.

He hummed and fell onto his back. His fingers motioned her to him.

She scoot her body toward him until he wrapped an arm around her as her head nestled in between his chest and shoulder.

His finger drew lazy circles on her forearm. “Can’t have my bride yawning at the alter. What would everyone think?”

She chuckled. “Gotta have some drama at the wedding. Keep everyone on their toes.”

“I like the way you think.” He kissed the top of her head. “And here I thought I was going to have to bribe one of the boys to speak up during the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ bit.”

“And which boy were you thinking of?”

“Not Knox because Izzie would kill me. Maybe Meeks.”

She giggled. “That would’ve been hysterical.”

“But alas,” he sighed, “looks like we’ll have to go through a boring ceremony.”

“Poor us.”

“A tragedy.”

He kissed the top of her head, wrapping his other arm around her. “But I’d go through worse if it meant I’d get to be with you forever.”

She pouted, her heart exploding. “Oh Charlie, you already did. You had to ask my dad for my hand in marriage.”

He snickered at the memory. “That took a week of planning and practicing.”

“Knox told me you even practiced on him.”

He grimaced. Knox had it easy because he knew how to charm parents. “Don’t remind me.”

She looked up at him. “It was worth it though.”

He smiled adoringly. “Without question.”

Just as their lips went to meet, the phone rang in the kitchen. Charlie let go of Y/N and padded toward the kitchen.

“Hello….Knox, what’re you…ok…ok…ok, I’ll let her know.”

Y/N sat up in bed, pulling the sheets close to her chest. Charlie returned and crawled back under the covers.

“So apparently your mother was about to come over and get you but Izzie and Knox heard her and Izzie offered to come get you. She’s on her way now.”

Y/N laid back, groaning. Charlie smiled, rubbing her bare leg with his hand.

“I’m not ready to leave,” she sighed. “Can’t I stay here with you a little longer?”

“As much as I would love that, unfortunately we have to keep up appearances one last time. After that, we can do whatever we like.”

The thought of having more mornings like this completely uninterrupted would make it worth it.

“Did you tell Izzie you were coming here last night?” he asked.

She nodded. “She was gonna tell my mom I was sick.”

Charlie hummed. “And what illness were we going to go with?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I figured you could come up with something for me. You must’ve had experience.”

“Loads. C’mon, we’ll figure it out while we get you dressed.”

====================================

A half an hour later…

“Thanks for covering for me,” Y/N said, turning her head to Izzie as the two women sat in the back of the cab.

“You got it. Your mother was on a war path so I figured it was best to stop her before she walked in on you and Charlie.” Izzie turned her head to Y/N. “Also what illness are we going with?”

“Period.”

“That works. That should keep her quiet for awhile.”

Silence fell between the two women. Then Izzie spoke up.

“You won’t hear the end of it.”

“Not at all.”

[pesterloglog]

Jake English, Tavrosprite, Jasprosesprite^2

Act 6, page 7810-7811

JAKE: Tavrosprite thank you for surreptitiously scooting away with me to my planet.

JAKE: I hope they all dont think me too much of a soggy knickerbocker for ducking off without making the rounds and saying goodbye.

JAKE: I just needed to get away and clear my head and i guess get my dander up for this great green man-fracas i am to solely contend with apparently??

JAKE: Say tavrosprite...

JAKE: Youll help me with out this impending pugilism wont you?

TAVROSPRITE: oH, yEAH!

TAVROSPRITE: i'M DEFINITELY READY, tO BRING THE SICK FIRE, tO

TAVROSPRITE: tHOSE GUYS ALLEGED TO BE INSIDE,,, aN ENCHANTED OVEN,

JAKE: Atta boy tavvy!!!

JAKE: Oops is it ok if i call you tavvy?

TAVROSPRITE: yES, i LOVE IT, }:)

JAKE: Actually wait.

JAKE: No i think i wont on second thought tavvy sounds fucking stupid.

TAVROSPRITE: yEAH, pROBABLY,

TAVROSPRITE: oKAY,

JAKE: So were agreed then.

JAKE: We wait here and limber up and flex our stupendous guns a bit then let sail our haymakers once the circus trundles into town.

TAVROSPRITE: i, pROBABLY UNDERSTOOD THAT REMARK, aND AGREE,

JAKE: I just wonder if theres anything else for me to DO aside from kiss my knuckles and lather them up with elbow grease.

JAKE: Turn my ten favorite boys out for a bracing constitutional you know?

TAVROSPRITE: ,,,,,nO,

JAKE: Should i be...

JAKE: SOUL SEARCHING or...

JAKE: Straining my brain to have some sort of magnificent epiphany about myself?

JAKE: Is this...

JAKE: Is this IT for me? Is this all there is to understand?

TAVROSPRITE: uM,,,

JAKE: Maybe theres only so much ragged wood a man can scrape from a barrels basement.

JAKE: Maybe sometimes a fellas gotta fess up to the fact that all there is to get about hims been firmly got already.

JAKE: Ive pretty much concluded that im a complete waste of everyones time if i bother busying their lives with my brand of beeswax and buffoonery.

JAKE: I settled square on the determination that i need to just be alone for most of my life and you know what im perfectly ok with that idea.

JAKE: Im just a lunk head and a loner and thats that.

JAKE: What else is there wonder about myself or my future except which face is most deserving of my fist?

TAVROSPRITE: sINCE YOU PUT EVERYTHING THAT WAY, aND SINCE SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO DISAGREE WITH A LOT OF CONSECUTIVE WORDS,

TAVROSPRITE: i THINK i AGREE WITH YOU,

TAVROSPRITE: mAYBE YOU'VE FIGURED OUT EVERYTHING ABOUT YOURSELF THAT MATTERS,

TAVROSPRITE: tHAT WOULD BE AWESOME!, lET'S BOTH PUT EXTRA EFFORT INTO HOPING IT'S TRUE,

JAKE: Thats the ticket!

JAKE: I love my aspect it feels so empowering every time i want to feel like somethings real when tons of facts are missing.

JAKE: I really am a lucky son of a bitch arent i tavvy. Shit i mean tavrosprite. Blech what i bad nickname sorry!!!

JAKE: But yeah thats pretty much what the doctor ordered for old jake english. No romantic stuff. No platonic stuff either!

JAKE: Ill be like... Mr nonrom sansplat... Or... Oh horsenoodles there has to be terminology that more effectively consolidates my present understanding of myself into a coherent identity i can get enthusiastic about.

JAKE: Maybe the troll lingo has the answers. Or maybe im pioneering some sort of... shadow quadrant system?? Ooh lordy wouldnt that be a swift kick in the netherdumplings.

JAKE: What do you think tavvyboy should i take my idea to the troll patent office and make a mint?

TAVROSPRITE: i DON'T THINK WE HAVE A THING LIKE THAT,

TAVROSPRITE: aLSO,

TAVROSPRITE: aLL OF MY PEOPLE ARE EXTINCT, aND MY PLANET IS BADLY EXPLODED,

JAKE: Oh yeah.

JAKE: Heh oopsie.

TAVROSPRITE: bUT YEAH, tRAGEDY SITUATIONS NOT IN CONSIDERATION,,,

TAVROSPRITE: i SYMPATHIZE ENTIRELY WITH YOUR SOCIAL IMPASSE, cAUSING NOT GOOD REFLECTIONS ABOUT YOURSELF, tHAT MAYBE ALSO DOUBLE AS LIBERATING STUFF ABOUT YOU THAT YOU RANDOMLY DECIDE IS FINE SUDDENLY,

TAVROSPRITE: oLD ACQUAINTANCES, aND GUYS YOU ONCE CALLED FRIENDS,

TAVROSPRITE: tHOSE ARE VERY HARD,

TAVROSPRITE: bECAUSE OVER TIME THEY GET EXPOSED TOO MUCH, tO ALL MY FLAWS AND INSECURITIES,

TAVROSPRITE: aND THEY START LIKING ME LESS BECAUSE OF THAT,

TAVROSPRITE: aT LEAST, tHAT'S HOW THE TRUTH FEELS, iN MY BRAIN,

TAVROSPRITE: sO i START THINKING, mAYBE THEY CAN'T BE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME, aFTER ALL, iF i'M GOING TO WANT TO FEEL NOT SAD ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME,

TAVROSPRITE: bUT THEN, aLSO,

TAVROSPRITE: i REALLY DO ENJOY MAKING *NEW* FRIENDS,

TAVROSPRITE: aND EVEN THOUGH i DON'T HAVE MANY TALENTS OR BATTLE SKILLS, oR INTELLIGENCE, oR DISCERNIBLE POSITIVE QUALITIES,

TAVROSPRITE: oNE THING i THINK i'M GOOD AT THAT PEOPLE UNDERESTIMATE,

TAVROSPRITE: iS MAKING NEW FRIENDS, wHO DON'T KNOW MY FLAWS YET, }:)

JAKE: Yeah...

JAKE: Yeah!

JAKE: Cheese and crackers tavvers what an inspirational little spiel that just was.

JAKE: Mayhaps youve more concealed talents than you let on??

TAVROSPRITE: nO, aBSOLUTELY NOT, bUT THANK YOU,

TAVROSPRITE: aAA,,

TAVROSPRITE: aAAAA,,, cHOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOO!,!

JAKE: Tavmeister are you ok?

TAVROSPRITE: aAACHOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOOOOOOO,,,!

JAKE: Heavens to murgatroyd park tavenue whats the matter??

TAVROSPRITE: aACHOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOOO,!,

JAKE: Speak to me lobster tavioli!!!

TAVROSPRITE: aAAAA,,,,,

TAVROSPRITE: cHOOOOOOOOOOOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOO, aCHOO, aCHOO!!!

JAKE: Ey! Rikki tikki tavi! Lay it on me bro... do you need to go to a hospital or what?!

JASPROSESPRITE^2: :3

[blazeismyname]

OK, BEFORE I SAY ANTHING, UPDAT3 ON HE DEALINE I SET!!! I MIGHT BE ABLE TO GET THIS THING DONE BY TH WND OF THE MONTH BWCAUSE IM SO LOCKED IN MEANING THAT APRIL I CAN PROBALY START WRITING THIS

Also, THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THAT SILLY RAMBLIN!!!! THATS SO INTERSTING AND IM HMGNKENWISKA

Into meat and bones! Skin and bones if you will! (I'm not funny)

I AM LIVING FOR BRIAN BEING HAMGED HANG MAN STYLE AS A PUNISHMENT!!!! THATS SO MUCH MORE AGHAGAHGAHA THAN WHAT I WAS THINKING. AND THEN BEING TIED TO A TREE AGAIN. GRRRR

Carmilla would absolutely sympathize. I'm thinking she wouldn't know most of his story except from whispers maybe? Like she went into that town a few day after they hung him up and there's loads of gossip and she's like "Ohhhh". Maybe she deliberately tries to find Brian and save him, only to discover he's dead and her sympathy gets to her?

HQVING TO ASK AURORA TO TAKE CARE OF HIMM... that could cause so much confliction in Aurora whe he locks Carmilla up... I'm living for it....

OK, SO LIKE, YOURE SERIOUSLY IN MY HEAD!!! ILL TALK ABOUT MORE LATER ON THEPOST BUT I HAD A WHOLE IDEA ABOUT HOW TIM AND BERTIE COULD HAVE A WAR PAST WITH LYF!!!!

ALSO, IN THE HEART- AND JONNY IS LIKE "The thing I finally gained... I wont lose it" AND TRUES TO STUMBLE AWAY AND IS AVED BY MR. NOT A SERVANT BUT IS KINDA ONE NOW!!!

So I was walking the field in gym earlier and listening to the Mechs while writing, and I came up with two insanely good ideas, in my opinion

Jonny claims to own the castle, and every time he does, everyone (including Aurora) yells at him that he just lives in it ("Your humble castle owner" "MF YOU JUST LIVE IN IT" *angry creaks from Aurora*)

AND ALSO, HERES THE IDEA FROM EARLIER... I REALLY LIKE IT. SO LIKE, what if Tim and Bertie fought in the war that dehomed Lyf and fucking exploded both sides because they just did not care if either side lived. And after, the two boys found Lyf as the only survivor and said, "Damn, you're strong," and took him with. So they all got out of there (Tim and Bertie were also war criminals after that, so they gotta go) and looked around till they found the castle and Jonny. Lyf is like super thankful for them sparing him, but kinda angry that they, yknow, blew up literally everyone else. This could also really tie well with the whole dynamic as Lumiere and Clocksworth, I think? (it's even funnier if we go with the stupid thing Lumiere does when he kisses Clockworth when he gets excited those few times)

I want to acknowledge that this started as a short tumblr post and is now the longest thread I've even laid eyes on, and I'm not joking

Gtg for now, hope you enjoy

Beauty and the Beast, but it's the Mechanisms.

Jonny must be the beast because feral Jonny and the whole heart thing... prove me wrong.

Tim or Brian is Belle.

Rest of the Mechs are the servants in the Beast's house. With an exception for Marius as Gaston cause I can totally fucking see it. He would suck at it though because it's Marius. And also, short Marius HC.

This is probably not new. But it's been brewing in my head for a good few months, ever since I put my Mechs OC in the iconic Belle dress.

[thathawaiianchick]

Heyy, totally checked all the songs from your tag game list out - the bittersweet chill vibes! And speaking of that qiucheng playlist - last time you mentioned it with some song recs in the tags (eerie summer) and that "imagine how full of angst they are" - it really got me in the mood to finally put that one scene down onto paper that had been floating around in my mind - and the result was Night Trip 1 & 2. It just flowed out of my hands. I"m not sure if you saw or liked those comics (1)

Is there anything better than someone validating your music taste, your HCs, or your constant bothering of them in their ask box and in your tags?!?! 😭😭😭

Your art is so cool, it inspires me all the time!!

Here is the link to my qc playlist. I always put it on when I read your comics, so now you'll know my exact mood when I'm making all those tags and saying: they must be so full of angst! I have different vibey music for when I'm reading the magic!au. Mainly just the soundtrack to Penny Dreadful :)

Anyway this playlist is kind of a wild mix of genres, I usually end up choosing one song which is the vibe for the comic and putting that one on repeat as I read :)) My perception of this ship is that there's a lot of longing. Lots of "forbidden" tropes and outside sources and convention fighting to keep them apart (and yet they love each other anyway 😭 *vomits* so cheesy, lol)

But yeah, Cheng has this OBVIOUSLY forbidden relationship with an underling, they have a secret dog, they're queer...it's alot of "dirty little secret" vibes (wild, i did not include that song in the playlist).

And then the angst of both of them wanting to get out of their situation and just be happy.

So most of these songs are about longing, about falling in love against your will and not being able to escape it, about wanting to escape together, or about pent up emotions, all the while trying to incorporate sleek, sexy, and also somehow grungey aesthetic :)))

[ickaimp]

[HTTYD] Break your heart, steal your crown

Sometimes ya just gotta write angst. Lotta people liked Coming Down is the Hardest Thing, my version of the ‘Hiccup runs away and becomes the “Dragon Master”, Astrid’s offered up as a Sacrifice years later’ tropes without Hiccup being a dick, and there were requests for sequels, which I didn’t do because this was all I had. Two years post Coming Down is the Hardest Thing, 4220 words, angst and some fluff.

"Berk is dying."

The words sat heavily in the air of the smithy, lingering like a spectre between Stoick and Gobber.

Stoick almost wished he could take the words back, but that wouldn't change the accuracy of his words. Berk was dying.

Gobber closed his eyes and sighed, giving him a weary nod of agreement. So he had seen it too. Or more likely, he had seen it in Gothi's last roll of the bones, before she had gone to bed and passed away in her sleep, leaving the fortune out for Gobber to read when he found her body this morning.

He hadn't actually told Stoick what the bones had said, giving him the same world-weary look he was currently wearing instead.

Even without the soothsayer's predictions, Stoick could see it. The twins had left years ago, declaring that the isle was too boring for their pranks, setting sail with only a chicken as their companion. It had seemed like a blessing at the time, less things exploding in their wake, leaving Berk a much quieter place than it had been.

Then came Spitelout's stupidity with Astrid, offering her to the savage Dragon Master. They'd gotten her back, only for her to disappear a week later. She'd left a note that this time was by her choice, but it'd been little comfort.

This left Berk's next generation without any women old enough to be wives. To become mothers to bear future generations. 

With the Jorgenson clan name soiled by Spitelout's actions, Snotlout was no longer able to be Stoick's heir. The other clans would never treaty with someone whose family had literally brought the Dragon Master down on their heads during a meeting of the chiefs. Except for maybe Dagur, and that was not a glowing recommendation, given the Berserker's... instability.

Which left Fishlegs as the only remaining of Berk's next generation to lead. The lad was smart, there was no doubt about it, and he would be fantastic as a second in command, the next Chief's Gobber, he was too quiet and soft to be a leader. The politics would eat him alive. And worse, Fishlegs was aware of this.

There were other children, Gustav and his ilk, but they were too young to start training as the next Chief of Berk. Stoick ran a hand down his beard, more grey than red from the stress and sorrow. He didn't have long enough to train one of them up.

And Berk's numbers were dwindling in other ways. Many had not been able to adapt to life without dragons to fight, finding a peaceful life did not sit well with their warrior blood. They'd left, being adopted into other clans. They'd just lost another family that way today. Stoick wished them no ill will, but if this continued, then they'd find their numbers too small to maintain the community.

Even Gobber was growing bored, not having enough work to keep the blacksmith busy. Without the dragons, there was no need for weapons, and the simple farming tools they had didn't need as much maintenance.  Stoick looked around the smithy, his eyes falling on the curtain leading to a small room that Gobber wouldn't allow anyone into, his own private shrine to his missing godson.

And then there was the loss of Hiccup, the first of Berk's children to leave. The Dragon Master's words, that Hiccup was happy and healthy where he was, was little comfort without being able to verify this. There was little Stoick wouldn't do in order to be able to see his boy again, for even just a moment. Sometimes he wondered if this wasn’t his fault. The path had seemed clear when they were constantly being raided by dragons. But without the raids, he was floundering. His people were looking to him for direction, and he had no experience with peace to know what to do. More and more they seemed to realise this, and left. Seven generations of vikings had lived on this isle, going all the way back to the first chieftain, his many times great-grandfather, and it was starting to look like he’d be Berk’s last chief.

"I wish I had some words of wisdom for ye, my friend." Gobber said softly. "I-"

Stoick jumped as something flew in through the window and landed on Gobber's face.

It was a green and brown Terrible Terror, who was making a high pitched growling sound as he crawled all over Gobber's head. "Don't move." Stoick rumbled, reaching for his sword.

"Ach." Gobber made a sound of annoyance, reaching up and grabbing the Terrible Terror by the scruff of its neck, pulling it off his head. "What're you-"

He trailed off, eyes drifting upwards and Stoick realised that it was the sound of a larger dragon's wings flapping. A Deadly Nadder, unless he missed his guess. Stoick gritted his teeth, feeling fire in his veins again, eager to have something to fight again, to take this rage and frustration out on.

"Oh no." Gobber said, a look of horror crossing his face as he glanced at Stoick. That was all the warning Stoick found himself being spun, his arms being bound behind his back with a pair of iron manacles, and he was flung through the curtain into Hiccup's old room. He landed against something softer than he expected, falling to the ground.

"GRUMP!" Gobber commanded, sticking his head through the curtain and pointing to Stoick. "Sit."

With a complaining groan, something large and heavy pressed down on Stoick. He grunted, trying to push himself up with his shoulders, but the weight was too much for him to get leverage.

"I didnae want you to find out like this." Gobber said, sounding apologetic, the Terrible Terror riding on his shoulder as if this was a common occurrence. "But if you value yer son's life at all, do not make a sound."

Stoick opened his mouth to bellow, only to find a rag shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He growled, ire filling his veins as Gobber turned away, pulling the curtain shut. The torn fabric didn't go all the way to the ground, leaving Stoick with a clear view of the smithy.

When he got free, and got his hands on Gobber...

A blue and gold Deadly Nadder head stuck it's head into the doorway of the smithy, then carefully stepped in, taking care not to bump into anything in the small building. A crowned pale spectre rode on it's back, white and grey wisps obscuring the figure.

"Gobber!" The spectre greeted the smith with a cheerful voice. The spectre raised an arm, throwing what looked like a bridal veil over their crown, revealing inhuman features covered in glittering blue scales.

"Is good to see you, lassie." Gobber returned the greeting, his voice rolling with affection. The spectre laughed, reaching up for their head and pulling it off-

-Revealing Astrid's smiling face.

Stoick stopped fighting, going lax in surprise. It had been almost two years since he'd last seen Astrid, grim faced and bitter before she disappeared. She seemed to practically glow with happiness now, as she slid off the Deadly Nadder's back, giving a little hop before leaping into Gobber's outstretched arms, giving him a tight hug.

"Good to see you too." Astrid declared, holding him out at arm's length. Stoick could see that she was wearing armour now, covered in scales that matched the Nadder she rode. She wore a skirt, cape, and veil made out of ragged strips of a thin sheer white fabric that seemed to dance in the air when she moved.

The Undead Bride of the Demon was Astrid. Stoick recognised the Nadder now, it was the same one that she'd flown when the Dragon Master had kidnapped Stoick from the Althing.

"What brings ye here?" Gobber asked jovially, the merriment sounding slightly forced. "Not that I'm complaining, but was nae expecting t’see you for another week or two."

A stab of betrayal felt like a knife between his ribs.

"We have news." Astrid bounced and gave a little hip wiggle of delight. It was a gleeful carefree movement that Stoick didn't think he'd ever seen from the usually tacturn lass.

"Hey, wait. No fair." A shadow at the doorway protested, and Stoick found himself growling as he recognized the outline of the Dragon Master and his demonic Night Fury. The Dragon Master swung a leg over his so-called brother's neck, standing upright on his cloven foot and moving towards them. "I wanted to see Gobber's face when you tell."

"Not my fault that you're being slow, my sweet husband." Astrid grinned, giving another skip-hop to give a little kiss to the side of the Dragon Master's scaled helm and Stoick growled, wiggling as he trying to get free, but the weight on top of him didn’t budge.

"Wait a moment." Gobber breathed. "Astrid... Your belly... You cannot mean..." He trailed off, too choked up to speak.

Looking at her in silhouette, he could see what Gobber meant. Astrid's previously flat stomach was curved out in a very distinctive solid roundness.

Astrid was pregnant. And from the casual arm around her shoulders that the Dragon master had around her waist, the babe in her belly was that demon's.

Stoick would kill him. He'd kill him for touching Astrid. He'd rip the foul creature limb from limb, and then he'd get rid of that Night Fury who was sniffing around the room-

All thoughts faded from his mind as the Dragon Master took off his helmet, revealing his face for the first time, and Stoick's breath caught in his throat.

It couldn't be.

The messy brown hair, almost reddish in the candlelight. Green eyes. The fond crooked grin on his narrow face, having finally grown into his ears.

"Hiccup." Gobber said, his voice thick with tears. "Astrid. You've got a wee bairn on the way."

His son. That was his son standing there with an arm around Astrid, the two of them shining with happiness.

His son, the Dragon Master.

"I'm about five months along." Astrid beamed at Gobber, resting comfortably against Hiccup, the two fitting together like matching puzzle pieces.

"We were hoping you'd agree to be the Godfather." Hiccup said, and Stoick didn't know how he hadn't heard it before, in the Dragon Master's dry sarcasm. It was his son's voice, a little deeper than as a teenager, but the nasally tones could only be him. 

"Godfather-?" Gobber echoed in awe.

"It's not dependent on if you take up our offer to live with us." Astrid was quick to assure him. "But we'd like you to be. We wouldn't be having a kid if it wasn't for you."

"You got Astrid out of Berk, and you saved my life by taking me under your wing here." Hiccup said sincerely. "We're also open to them calling you 'Grandpa', if that's okay with you."

Grandpa.

Stoick was a Grandfather.

He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes. He'd never thought he'd have that chance, not after his son went missing. And here his son was, was, healthy, happy, and with a wee one on the way.

"Och." Gobber shook his head. "I couldn't."

"You can." Astrid grinned, reaching out and taking Gobber's hand in hers, scales and claws curling delicately around calloused scarred skin. "We talked to Valka about it. She laughed and said she's fine with it. Someone else to share the responsibility of dirty diapers."

The tears spilled over his cheeks. Valka, his dear sweet Valka was alive as well.

He remembered now, the Dragon Master saying that he had his mother's eyes, and he did. Skies above, he did. Hiccup had always had Valka's clear eyes that seemed to penetrate and see more than anyone else.

"I mean, you did more to raise me than my own father did. It's only fair." Hiccup added without any trace of bitterness as he gestured around the smithy. "All of my fondest memories of Berk are here."

Stoick's breath caught, feeling as if a sword had just been thrust through his chest.

"Someone had to keep an eye on you." Gobber shook his head dismissively. "Otherwise some dragon would have flown away with your toothpick self."

The Night Fury, who had been circling around in the background, stuck it's muzzle under the curtain. The beast sniffed the air for a moment before poking its head all the way into the small room, it's acid green eyes narrowed into slits as it stared at him, a low warning rumble coming from its throat, lips curling back to show a giant maw full of razor sharp teeth.

Stoick stared back, uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable he currently was. The creature could bite off his head in one bite, and there was no way for Stoick to protect himself.

"Oh nooooo. How terrible." Hiccup deadpanned in the background as Astrid laughed. "Carried away by draaagons."

The great weight on top of Stoick shifted and grunted, and he realised that it was a giant heavy dragon that was currently sitting on his back. The Night Fury crooned what sounded like a question to the creature pinning him down, getting a snore-like rumble in return.

The Night Fury glanced back down at Stoick, giving him a look that could only be described as 'scornful' before turning away with a smug expression and trotting back over to his son. Stoick watched as the beast gave an amused warbling at his son, casually headbutting Hiccup, sending him into Astrid, who took a half step to keep them all upright.

"Oh!" She gasped, then took Gobber's hand that she was still holding and pressing it against her belly.

"They're moving!" Gobber gasped. "Oh, they're a fighter, just like their parents."

Stoick's breath caught again. His grandchild. His grandchild was moving.

"The only thing that really settles them down is when the dragons sing to them." Astrid looked amused. "Even if the dragons are confused as to why I haven't laid an egg yet."

The Night Fury gave Stoick a pointed look, then nudged Astrid's belly with it's broad flat nose, giving a soft affection croon, as if to point out that the creature could touch the babe in Astrid’s belly, but Stoick could not. Stoick choked on the gag in his mouth, silently swearing vengeance.

"Which is part of the reason why we stopped by early." Astrid said gravely, and Stoick wondered how much more news he could take tonight. 

"Valka says I'm probably fine for flying up until I give birth." Astrid said, wrapping a protective arm around her belly. "But we decided that fighting is out until afterwards. So it may be awhile before I'm back in the area."

"Trapper tried to kick her in the stomach." Hiccup growled, and all three dragons in the room echoed the sound, even the Terrible Terror on Gobber's shoulder. The sound covered up Stoick's own noise of outrage at such an act. "Stormfly stopped them, but it gave us all a bit of a scare."

Astrid nodded, leaning against Hiccup, who looked a little anxious, rubbing his hand up and down the blue scales of her arm. "I can still do air support, but the pregnancy is making me exhausted lately. Which is probably only going to get worse." Astrid looked annoyed. "So we're all going to be staying with Valka at least until I give birth."

"It's not like the Hidden World really needs Toothless and I to guard it." Hiccup said with wiry humour. Stoick blinked, finding he had no more room for shock. Of course Hiccup found the home of the dragons. Of course he had. "But if you did decide to accept our offer to live with us, we didn't want you looking in the wrong place and thinking the worst."

"And Valka promises not to cook in your honour when you do show up." Astrid smirked. And Stoick nearly choked on muffled laughter, aware he was crying again. Valka had never been the best cook, but she tried. And it'd been worth every burnt and raw bite he'd choked down.

"Thank you." Gobber's voice was thick. "But I cannae leave just yet. Your Father needs..."

"I know." Hiccup hastened to assure. He stepped forward, wrapping a clawed hand around the back of Gobber's head, resting his forehead against the blacksmith's. "When you're ready, we'll be there. Even if you're never ready, we just want to make sure you know that there is a place for you."

"You just don't want to be the only one with experience making protestetics." Gobber grumbled, and Hiccup laughed, tapping his cloven foot on the ground, making a ringing sound.

Hiccup's prosthetic foot, Stoick realised, watching the spring inside the metal contraption flex. His son was missing a foot.

And Stoick had no idea when or how it happened.

"You caught me." Hiccup didn't sound angry about it as he released Gobber, more jovial than anything. "But it doesn't make it less true."

"I'll think about it." Gobber promised with the air of having said the same thing many times before, taking the Terrible Terror off his shoulder and transferring it to Hiccup's.

"And I'll teach you how to make Dragon Iron when you do." Hiccup said with a grin, his voice both teasing and cajoling.

Dragon Iron, which the Dragon Master was the only one who knew how to make. Because Hiccup had been a smith since he was six years old, put under Gobber's eye to keep him out of trouble.

"Stop trying to bribe me, you brat." Gobber cuffed him upside the back of his head with a grin. Both Hiccup and Astrid laughed, even if the Night Fury gave Gobber a glare. "Now g'wan. Get out of here before you're seen."

"Yeah, yeah." Astrid rolled her eyes and stood up on her toes to give Gobber a quick fond kiss on the cheek. "We'll see you later, one way or another." She informed him matter of factly before putting her helmet back on and climbing on top of her dragon, settling the veil around her shoulders.

"Take care of yourself." Hiccup clasped Gobber's hand, then pulled the larger smith in for a back thumping hug before releasing him. "And say ‘hi’ to Grump for me, wherever he's snoozing at."

"Will do." Gobber agreed blithely. "Stay safe, all of you."

The Night Fury let out a warble as if to say that it was his job to keep them all safe as Hiccup fastened the helmet back on his head, transforming back to the Dragon Master. The beast gave Stoick one last pointed look as Hiccup climbed in it's back, before turning and heading out of the smithy, both the dragons and their riders losing their relaxed easy going postures.

Astrid followed a few heartbeats later, following Hiccup's soft whistle. There was the sound of wingbeats, and then they were gone.

Leaving the smithy empty aside from Gobber and Stoick. It was with a sinking realisation that he realised he probably wouldn’t get another chance to ever see Hiccup again.

The Dragon Master was essentially Chieftain to the dragons, a role that clearly kept him busy and constantly travelling all over the archipelago and beyond. Stoick knew first hand how busy having a newborn kept one as well. It would be months, if not another year before Hiccup would free to visit Berk. And there would be no way for Stoick to know where or when.

Gobber gave a great big heaving sigh before turning back towards Stoick, his peg leg sounding loud against the ground. Gobber moved the curtain aside, and then knelt down, removing the gag from Stoick's mouth.

"I'm sorry y'had to find out this way." Gobber said softly, and the thing that hurt the most is that he could feel how sincerely his oldest friend meant it.

"How long?" Stoick asked, ignoring the way his voice broke.

Gobber gave a thoughtful hum, reaching up and petting the dragon on top of him. "Almost two years now." He finally said. "I recognized Hiccup's work on the blade the Dragon Master gave Astrid when he returned ya both here. Astrid had suspected as much, it just confirmed it for her."

He'd travelled with his son for an entire day, and Stoick hadn't a clue it was him.

Stoick, who had sworn that he'd be able to recognize his son anywhere, any time, in any place.

Horror went down his spine as he remembered the accusations he'd hurled at the Dragon Master after the dragon had crashed into their camp. Threatening to kill the Dragon Master in order to find his son.

His son, who had been right there. Who had told him while hidden behind a mask, that Hiccup was alive, healthy and happy where he was, far away from Berk.

Away from Stoick.

"About a month after Astrid left, she stopped by for a visit, ta let me know she was fine." Gobber continued, nudging the dragon off of Stoick. The giant creature grumbled as it slowly obeyed, leaving Stoick still shackled and on the ground. "The next visit, she brought Hiccup, and we cried together for nearly an hour."

Gobber paused, checking his pockets for his keys, then started to work on the manacles around Stoick's arms. Stoick had broken through stronger bonds before, but he didn't have the energy in him now.

"They stop by every every other month or so to check in on me, let me know how they're doing, or send a Terrible Terror with a letter." Gobber continued quietly. "Valka's been by once as well, weren't real comfortable here and left just as quick. Too many memories of blood shed."

The manacles released with a click, and Stoick slowly moved his arms, his shoulders protesting having been twisted in such a position. He carefully sat up, turning to face the monster that had been on his back.

And found himself looking at the least dangerous dragon he'd ever set eyes upon, for all its enormous size. It was large enough that it had probably only been it's head that had been resting on Stoick's back, and looked like it was already asleep with its eyes half open.

And it looked like a giant turd. Large, brown, and lumpy.

"This magnificent fellow is Grump." Gobber motioned to the sleepy dragon, with a fond expression. "They left him with me for back up, and so I have a way to meet up with them some time. He's been running the forge fires for me. Never realised how helpful having a dragon in the smithy could be before Hiccup mentioned it, even if the great lump sleeps most of the time."

Grump slowly turned an eye in Gobber's direction, thick club of a tail bouncing a few times as if realising that they were talking about him. He briefly wondered how many months the dragon had been sleeping here and no one had even suspected.

Stoick felt as if everything he had believed in had suddenly been turned upside down and shaken about. Dragons possibly weren't evil. His son was alive. He had a grandchild on the way. Hiccup was the Dragon Master.

"Is he happy?" Stoick asked, mindful of the tears still on his cheeks. "Hiccup?"

Gobber thought it over. "Aye." He finally said, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. "The lad weren't never made for being a Viking. Living amongst the dragons brings him not only comfort, but joy. Astrid and Valka too. Once you've earned a dragon's loyalty, there ain't much that can break it. And the three of them fit among them like they were born for it."

Stoick nodded. "And you?"

"Me?" Gobber looked surprised at the question.

"Will you be joining them?" He had the invitation and the dragon.

Gobber hesitated, looking at the slumbering dragon. "I'd like to." He finally admitted. "Some day. But not any time soon."

Because he was staying here, for Stoick's sake. He'd told Hiccup that clearly enough.

Gobber was his oldest and dearest friend, loyal to a fault, and Stoick couldn't blame him for keeping HIccup's secrets. Not when Stoick's reaction to meeting the Dragon Master hadn’t been nearly so generous, even as he realised that the Dragon Master was only trying to help in his own way.

"You should join them." Stoick said, rising to his feet. Gobber looked like he wanted to protest, and Stoick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "When you're ready."

Gobber closed his mouth and nodded. Stoick nodded back, then walked out of the smithy. The cold air hit the tear tracks on his cheeks, and he ignored it, trudging up the hill to his cold empty hut.

He had gotten his wish, to know that his son was not only alive, but thriving. Astrid too. And Valka as well, his wife living amongst dragons for nearly two decades now. He was so elated to know that they weren’t dead. 

Stoick wouldn't trade that knowledge for anything, not even with the understanding that the reason for their happiness was that they were living their lives far away from him.

-fin- (no, there are no plans for anything further in this au, but if it sparks something in you, feel free to play.)

[isolemnlyswear]

could you do a fic of james and his girlfriend reader who isn’t taking care of herself. like she is overworking herself with school, tutoring, and quidditch and she is making herself sick. she’s barley eating and then she has a fit where she’s throwing up because she made herself sick because of stress. then he takes care of her 🥺

stressed out.

a/n : my god i’m so fucking sorry this took ages. i’m so sorry. it’s also shitty oops–

warnings / content : young!james potter x fem!reader. extreme stress, vomit, swearing, mentions of not eating, kissing ? fluff!

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @aslutfortom @inks-and-jinx @jxsperhxle @punkrific @the-gazette-of-tea @krasivayadarling @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516 @hoe4cedricdiggory @vsawyer1989 @fathermarty

---

You sigh, eyes unwillingly prying open due to the bright lights beaming into your dorm, or James’s dorm, rather.

You shift so that you're facing the aforementioned boy, whose eyelids are still gently shut, lashes playing over his cheeks and hiding his cerulean irises.

You place a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, pulling yourself out of bed and to the bathroom. The weekend prior had been pure bliss, but now, the weeks towards graduation are dwindling to but a few, and the stress is increasing exponentially.

James murmurs softly as he wakes up, and you spare him a fleeting glance before pulling on your uniform and rushing down to the common room, books in hand.

Breakfast hasn't started yet, but you're hoping to study before the day starts, not willing to risk losing any ounce of material that could slip from your brain.

Before you know it, it's seven a.m., and James is bounding down the stairs to meet you for breakfast.

“Hi, my love!” he says excitedly, and you barely register his voice as you scrawl notes on a piece of parchment. “Y/N?” he asks again, kneeling to tuck a strand of hair from your face, and you look up.

“Hi,” you say simply, smiling briefly before returning to your notes.

“Wanna go to breakfast, dove?” he asks, eyes searching yours.

“One sec, I gotta finish this,” you say, holding your lip in between your teeth in concentration.

“Alright,” James responds begrudgingly, furrowing his brows, but as to not pry, he utters a quick ‘meet you down there’ and leaves.

But an hour goes by, and you're still studying, up until your first class period.

And you forget, by the time you go to the class - which is potions - to eat breakfast. Then you go to the next, barely stopping to breathe between rushing to classes.

And finally, it's lunch. You sling your bag over your shoulder and rush to the great hall, spotting James and the boys at the end of the table and making your way toward them.

“Hi,” you greet, sitting down next to your boyfriend, pecking him on the cheek.

“Where were you, this mornin’? Thought we were gonna meet up between classes,” James says, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry, I forgot, I was studying for-”

“Don't be sorry, m’love, but y’gotta relax a bit, m’kay? Now eat. You didn't earlier,” James instructs, and you murmur a thank you before turning to your lunch.

But his words fall on deaf ears; you're so pent up about exams that by the time you hit your last period, you're a burning ball of exhaustion and anxiety ready to explode momentarily.

Quidditch is at five, and you tutor younger students from three to four, so you rush to the library promptly after your last period ends.

You meet with a fourth-year called Milo, teaching him about some charms task he didn't comprehend, and then with a girl called Annalise. You repeat over and over again how sorry you are for having a short temper, and that they're doing great, but you have to refrain from snapping at their mistakes in your tumultuous state.

And then it's finally over, and you have barely a moment to spare before you run off to the locker room.

As soon as you're in there, you run to the bathroom, nausea overcoming you instantaneously as you crouch over the toilet. Your insides are twisting and tightening with the stress that's taken over you, and you want nothing more than to curl up in a hole and disappear.

But then you hear a creak of a door, and you fret for a moment, worrying that it's the other girl on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but she's ill today, so how-

“Y/N?” James's voice calls, and he steps into the bathroom tentatively, causing you to cough and flush the toilet quickly.

“J-James, um-” you cough again, body attempting to dispel the bile in your throat, and James rushes over to your stall, knocking on the door.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, can I - shit - can you let me in?”

You oblige, pushing the door to allow him entrance, and he drops to his knees at the sight of you.

You're hung over the toilet, tears welling your eyes and a small amount of vomit smeared at the corner of your mouth, a heavy purple residing under your formerly bright e/c eyes and the hollows of your cheekbones.

“Oh, baby, what's goin’ on?” he asks, and you scrunch your nose, clasping a hand over your mouth as you feel your throat swell with nausea.

When you lean over the toilet again, James pulls his hand into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to pull it from your eyes, and his other hand rests at the small of your back, rubbing soft circles there.

After a few minutes, most of the nausea has passed, albeit only slightly, and you're able to speak again.

“What’s got you all sick, hmm?” James asks quietly, and you remain silent, not wanting to admit the turmoil that you're facing. “Are you stressed out, m’love? Is that it?”

You nod, tears slipping over your waterline.

“C’mere, here, I got you, it's alright,” he says, letting you fall into his chest as you cry, whispering words of reassurance into your ear.

It takes a while, but the tears, too, pass, thanks to James, and you realize you've forgotten about practice altogether.

“We have to go to practice,” you say quietly, and James shakes his head.

“I'll get Pads to sub for me.”

“But you're captain. And what about me-”

“He can deal with it, trust me. And we're not even in season anyway, my love, it'll be fine. You're more important than practice, I wanna make sure you're okay, alright?” he says, stroking your hair softly, and you smile a watery smile.

“You're a sap,” you tease, poking his side, and he grins, brushing the hair from your face.

“You know you love me,” he responds, and you laugh into his chest.

“That I do. Now can we go cuddle, ‘m fucking knackered,” you say, and he nods.

He leads you up to his dorms, walking you through brushing your teeth and giving you new clothes (his, of course, a band tee and some very large sweatpants), allowing you to feel clean again.

He has Remus bring up some food to their dorm, which is empty for a while, and he sets it up in a riser above his bed, kissing you on the forehead.

“Thank you,” you whisper, kissing him on the lips, this time, and he smiles into your mouth.

“No need to thank me, alright? Now I asked him to just get the plain foods, they're pretty soft, too, and you gotta drink some water, okay? Two bottles f’me,” he instructs, and you nod, beginning to eat as James idly chats to you, head in your lap as your unoccupied hand strokes his hair mindlessly.

You finish eating after a while, and James vanishes the food, orienting himself so that you're in ample cuddling position, now, with your head on his chest and his arms around your waist.

“I love you, you know that, right?” he says after a few beats of silence, and you nod. “I know you get yourself all stressed out like this, and it's not your fault, but I'm always gonna be here to help you relax. Always. Until the end of time.”

“I love you,” you whisper, tightening your grip on him, and he smiles.

“I love you more.”

[latetaektalk]

deep end | myg

“yoongi was bad for you, was only going to hurt you, but you just could never get enough of him, never resist him.”

genre: fuckboy! au, angst, fluff, sexual themes

pairing: yoongi x female reader

word count: 2.283

warnings: cursing, sexual themes, making out, yoongi is a little shit

playlist: august - taylor swift

a/n: yes, this was absolutely inspired by the song august by taylor swift. honestly, i dont know what this is, but yeah. maybe ill turn this into a small drabble series because this is definitely not the end lol

August

“Your friends must hate me,” Yoongi whispered between kisses, his words almost lost between your lips.

“They don’t.” You didn’t know why you lied, why you tried to convince Yoongi otherwise when both of you knew better. You shimmed around in his lap, your hands fiddling with his leather jacket in a desperate attempt to get more of him, have him even closer.

“Yeah?” Yoongi laughed but didn’t stop kissing you, his hands wandering down your back, inching you closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You rolled your eyes when he laughed again, interrupting the kiss you had been about to press against his lips. “Fine, maybe they’re not crazy about you.”

“Does that bother you?” Yoongi asked and you shivered when he snuck his cold hands underneath your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt like you weren't sitting in the front seat of his rusty and terribly old car and anybody could walk past and see you two.

You looked at him because it did bother you. Of course, it did. They were still your friends and you cared about what they thought of you and the choices you made. At the same time, you knew that deep down it didn’t matter too much, didn’t matter too much because in the end, you were the one playing this game with him, this game of cat and mouse, this game of supposed meaningless and unattached sex.

It didn’t matter too much because in the end, you got to have Yoongi.

And that made everything worth it, the moment you had him.

“No.” 

You pressed your lips to his again and squeezed your eyes shut, your hands wandering down to his belt in an attempt to get him to drop the topic, but Yoongi just always loved pushing your limits, seeing where that got him.

“You’re a bad liar, baby.” 

You almost froze, almost stopped fiddling with his belt, a flush creeping up to your cheeks. His words were like daggers to your heart. Truths you didn’t want to hear, refused to hear.

“You-”

You abandoned his belt, giving up on trying to figure it out because clearly that wasn’t working, and cut him off by slamming your lips against his. You started working on his leather jacket again, desperate to get it off, but somehow, you ended up being the one with only your skirt and bra on, your legs growing tired and numb from straddling him. 

“I like that though,” Yoongi hummed against your skin as he started leaving wet kisses against your neck.

“What?” you breathed, mind starting to cloud and making it hard for you to focus. You pulled your head back and let your eyes flutter shut, his lips leaving you weak in your knees and everywhere else.

Yoongi stayed at that one spot he knew that always had you melting in his hands, nibbling on your neck the way he knew you enjoyed, turned you putty, weak. 

“I like that you’re a bad liar, baby.”

You ran your hands through your hair and hated how shallow and laboured your breathing was.

“Shut- fuck,” Yoongi bit down on your skin, making you squirm and curse. You tried again, through gritted teeth, “Fucking shut up.”

You felt Yoongi smirk against your skin the way he always did when he was satisfied with himself, proud that he had managed to push your buttons.

“Just because it’s you.”

You were in the middle of typing up a text when Jennie decided to throw a pillow at you, forcing your phone out of your grasp and the air out of your lungs.

“Ow, what the fuck?” You rubbed your head where the pillow had hit you and sent Jennie a glare. "What was that for?" 

"You're not listening," she hissed and you removed a piece of lint stuck to your jeans.

"Tell me you're not texting dickhead again," Jisoo said and you cringed when you looked at her and saw the half-chewed up chips in her mouth. 

“Stop talking when you’re eating, Ji,” you groaned and held up your hand to block her out of your view. “It’s gross.”

“Grosser than Yoongi?” Jisoo countered and you took the pillow Jennie had thrown at you and chugged it at Jisoo. Unlike you though, she caught it and simply used it to support her head. 

“So, were you? Texting dickhead, I mean,” Jennie asked and swivelled around in your squeaky office chair that used to belong to your brother. She fixed you with the look she knew you hated because it always made you turn away. “Jesus.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked and clutched your phone tightly to your chest because you weren’t sure if Jennie would get up and take it out of your hands. You wouldn’t put it past her. She had done it before.

“Why?” Jennie groaned, ignoring your question. “Why do you keep doing this to you? He fucking sucks! He’s a goddamn fuckboy who’s only gonna use you for sex and drop you the moment some new girl comes around.”

You pursed your lips and pressed through gritted teeth, “It’s not like that. He’s not like-”

“He is like that,” Jennie cut in and shook her head at you. “How many times do we have to tell you to get it, Y/N? He’s no good! You’re just another girl to him. A notch in his stupid fuckboy belt.”

Your hands tightened into fists, so much so that your knuckles started turning white. It was painful, but not worse than Jennie’s words.

You turned to Jisoo. She gave you a much more sympathetic look, but you could see in her eyes that she thought the same way as Jennie. A fact that made you groan and roll your eyes.

“Look, I’m not saying all of that to be mean, babe,” Jennie sighed and you could still hear the irritation dripping from her voice. She tried to be soft and nice, but she couldn’t hide her true feelings. “I-”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N,” Jisoo jumped in when Jennie couldn’t finish her sentence and you screwed your eyes shut before letting yourself fall back, the mattress giving in underneath your weight.

“Yeah, we don’t,” Jennie said and got up from your chair, the squeaking making you scrunch up your face. She moved over to you and you felt the mattress dip when she got on it.

“You’ve gotta protect yourself, babe,” Jennie started again and touched your knee, squeezing it like that would help convince you.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta protect yourself,” Jisoo echoed and paused to shift closer to you, her arm wrapping around your middle to pull you into a hug you didn’t reciprocate. “People like Yoongi… they’re never good.”

You could smell the chips on her breath and you wanted to crinkle your nose.

“It’s stupid to get involved with people like Yoongi.”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and when you did, Jisoo offered you a smile, a smile that was meant to cheer you up, but it only made you press your lips together and turn away to look at Jennie. When you did though, she was offering you the same kind of smile and you settled on staring at the ceiling.

All three of you fell into silence and was only interrupted once when Jennie decided to lay down with you and wrap her arm around you as well. After a moment and some thinking, you put your arms around Jennie and Jisoo.

You just lay there, in thought. It was a peaceful moment, a moment you only shared every now and then. A moment you enjoyed despite the minutes before it.

It was all nice until your phone started buzzing violently in your hand and drew everybody’s attention to it. You lifted it to see who it was. Almost instantly, your heart skipped a beat.

Yoongi.

“Don’t,” Jennie warned and sat up when you did. You looked between her and your phone. Yoongi had never called you before, and quite frankly, you didn’t know how to react.

“Y/N, just ignore it,” Jisoo chimed in from behind you and you stared at your phone in your hand, still buzzing like it was a bomb about to explode.

“Y/N, don’t-”

“I’m sorry.”

You picked up the call before Jennie could reach for your phone and decline it. You winced when she let out a long breath through her nose and cursed underneath your breath, but before you could beg her to just understand and that Yoongi and you weren’t that easy, he spoke,

“Meet me behind the mall.”

You blinked and scratched the back of your head, confused.

“Hang up, Y/N,” Jennie hissed underneath her breath and you turned away from her, but she started reaching for your phone, forcing you to stand up and put some distance between you two.

“What?” you said and had to fight to keep your voice steady because Jennie had resorted back to throwing pillows at you.

“You read my text, right?” Yoongi said and you knew he was in his car, the faint humming of the motor so ingrained in you after hours spent in his car, you could always recognise it.

“Yeah, I did,” you said and raised your arm just in time to block the next pillow Jennie threw at you. 

“You started typing, but stopped,” Yoongi continued and said it like you wouldn’t know that.

“For god’s sake, Y/N, hang up,” Jennie hissed and grabbed another pillow.

“Yeah, I did,” you repeated, ignoring her completely as you walked into your adjacent bathroom and closed as well as locked the door behind you before she could throw the pillow at you.

“I asked you if you wanted to go out,” Yoongi said and you slid down the door, pulling your knees close to your chest.

“Yeah, you did,” you said and Yoongi laughed.

“Are those three words the only words you know?” he asked and you chuckled, shaking your head as if he could see you.

“No, I can say more,” you mumbled and you knew a smile was on Yoongi’s lips now. You pressed your phone closer to your ear.

“So,” Yoongi started and you bit on your lip, waiting for him to continue. It took him longer than usual, but there was no wavering in his voice when he did finally speak, “Meet me behind the mall.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck and you had to take a moment to make sure your breathing wasn’t too laboured and your voice too high.

“Is that,” the words still came out shaky, “is that a question or a demand?”

“Whatever you want it to be.”

Your heart practically leaped out of your chest and you were certain, he knew. He knew what his words did to you, what he did to you.

“I’m in front of your dorm.”

“Fuck,” you cursed underneath your breath and tipped back your head, screwing your eyes shut.

“You want me to go?” Yoongi teased.

“No, no,” you said quickly and shook your head, your teeth sinking deeper into your lip. “Don’t go.”

Yoongi hummed and it was scary how perfectly you could picture him right now, the corners of his lips curled up into that familiar smirk, that mischievous glint in his eyes as he stared out the window, waiting for you to come out and jump inside his rusty and terribly old car, his tongue digging around in his cheek with his phone lazily pressed against his ear, the usual leather jacket covering his upper half.

God, you were fucked.

“Then, come out.”

Yoongi hung up and you dropped your head to your chest, cursing internally at him. You stayed on the floor for a handful of seconds before you straightened up and shoved your phone into your pocket.

You opened the door to your bathroom with a heavy sigh, ready to get another pillow thrown at you. So when one did hit you square in the face, you barely flinched, closing and opening your eyes just to see a more than irritated Jennie standing in the middle of your tiny bedroom with her hands on her hip.

Wordlessly, you picked up the pillow and tossed it back onto your bed where Jisoo was still lying in, back to eating her chips.

“I can’t with you, Y/N,” Jennie said with a shake of her head and an audible exhale through her nose. She knew.

You pressed the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth and looked at the floor. You wanted to say something, explain to Jennie that Yoongi… he had power over you. He had you in his grip, and it was tight, almost too tight. But you liked that, you liked that because he made you feel things and ways you had never before. It was exciting, thrilling, addicting.

Yoongi was exciting, thrilling, addicting.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly and rubbed your nose with your hand.

“Just go,” Jennie sighed, sounding so defeated that you had to lift your head and look at her. You couldn’t read her face. A mix of disappointment and irritation was etched into her features, but you weren’t sure who she was disappointed in and irritated by. With you? With Yoongi? With herself maybe? With Jisoo because she didn’t come to back her up much?

“You’re stupid, Y/N,” Jisoo told you at the front door. Jennie had stayed in your bedroom, probably still too angry to see you go.

You walked out.

[sugar-petals]

BTS Scenario: Taking Care of Them When They Have a Cold

↳ ♡ NOTE ⇁ time for fluff. autumn season is coming, let me set the mood right here, we’re going cozy 🍂

warnings ⚠️ hurt/comfort, brief mention of sexual tension

⌈jimin⌋ ⇢ Jimin’s cold is unusually subtle. In terms of visible signs, it’d take some time to notice it for someone who doesn’t know him or doesn’t check just how heavy another person’s breath is going. But feedback? You will definitely get. Compared to how he’s pouting about it, which will melt your heart is what I’m saying, the symptoms are understated in comparison to the other members. Taehyung’s cough can shatter an entire neighborhood, Jimin sneezing is as graceful as a gazelle. Mind you, his nose is runny, and the slight fatigue of the first two days isn’t negligible, but the major thing to actively mend is more psychological than physical. In other words, his body does its thing, you don’t have to overextend yourself. 

That’s what you have to figure out first to really take care of him properly. After laying him down and bringing both snacks and liquids, talking is what he needs rather than ten thousand types of medications and cool towels all over him. Jimin doesn’t want to see you become sick as well so you don’t sit up close, but at talking range, and you text a lot during the day while you work. He’s worried about not being able to practice and hopes the cold doesn’t show in his appearance. You assure him it takes five days at best and he is okay again and promise a lot of kisses. With that prospect, healing is even sweeter. And, you know the guy, Jimin misses seducing you, so.

⌈taehyung⌋ ⇢ Absolutely enjoys being babied ten times out of ten. Nothing better than you preparing a hot herbal bath. Rosemary, thyme, camomile. The steam spiraling off the water surface looks so relaxing in the candlelight, the classical music you put on sways him into a trance, he lays there for half an hour just motionless. He gets a little tray of coconut cookies on the bed stand, you play the guitar to him, you massage his feet before he sleeps… Which, and he hates admitting it, makes it nice to be sick. By all means not because of the fever, but the extra attentions, the hot chocolate for bed. Taehyung thinks about that twice and concludes something. He doesn’t want to get a cold just to receive this treatment. Not for his own health nor to worry or overwhelm you, he’s not gonna guilt-trip you into being a servant. 

So, you agree for later: It’s good to treat him sporadically just because, whenever and wherever, cue Shakira. That Taehyung so enjoys a good healing and mending time and it just explodes when you both have a reason to, that’s rather something to expand to the whole relationship. Taehyung will do the exact spoiling for you, with a romantic twist the way you know him. It doesn’t need a sickness to resort to doing nice things for your partner. At the end of the day, the body will remember it and get sick again because it sees what it gets through being ill. That’s something to squarely avoid doing, a random gesture is good for its own sake, amen.

⌈yoongi⌋ ⇢ Grumpy, murmuring, disgruntled he can’t work without getting a headache, needs a lot of silence to recover so he curls up on his own with earphones in and fifty playlists on repeat. He’s like tch, only thing I need is tiger balm to whip me back into shape. Or… wait. Wait a second. A cup of steaming hot coffee with extra foam he will not reject. Or a plate of fried rice. Anything fried and super crispy, really. Yoongi likes those things, especially when prepared by you. Nothing is more honoring. Actually? I’ll change the initial statement. Yoongi does accept some help. You simply gotta find out his catnip I mean favorite dishes and either know the place to order it from or have some kitchen basics down. Nothing super fancy though, it doesn’t need a God’s Menu. The right seasoning does the trick already. 

He wants it mega spicy, sweating out the cold is the way to go said Yoongi’s mom back in the day so he goes by that motto. Love starts in the stomach for felines. If another BTS member drops take-out at the door, even better, that uplifts him greatly. When he munches, that’s the most gratifying thing in the world. Yoongi wants you to eat with him by the bed so that means chili in the bedroom but screw it. All that food and you cranking up the heater distracts Yoongi from his cold and some head pats have him on his way to recovery. And, by the way. He’s kinda turned on by you cooking for him so… the frustration is real, you’re gonna fuck like rabbits once he’s okay again.

★ ⌈namjoon⌋ ⇢ The friendly giant will stay in denial about his cough for at least three days and walk around with way too much medicine in his system. He begs for someone to relieve him, mostly himself, but all those sky-high standards are in the way. Responsibility! Hard work and endurance! Solve it in your head! What is the spiritual reason for colds? How many pills keep you awake for an all-nighter to write an album in one go? What’s next on the schedule? So it goes on, you know the deal with Joonie. You have to kick that leader butt so he finally enters the healing cave under the sheets. Don’t kick too hard though, he doesn’t have Jimin-level cushions. He topples over into his sheets fast anyway, he’s that level of exhausted from his own suppression. 

The story goes on, Namjoon feels extremely guilty for getting pampered and still ponders the reasons why he is ill rather than slowing down a minute and closing his laptop for a hot second. It gets a little awkward unless you figure out your secret weapon. What he feels better with is you reading him stories while he rests on the sofa. I’m not kidding. Or if you’re busy or he wants to be alone, audiobooks. That input is like a lullaby to Namjoon who gets knocked out by the soft whispering only to descend into 12 hours of sleep. Ah, he’s namjooning. Yep. His cold will force him into resting, but by the time he recovers, he is six books wiser and has had the pleasure of listening to your voice which he finds soothing. Thankful he is, anticipate an expensive present and flowers.

★ ⌈jungkook⌋ ⇢ Meal and fluid intake: Quantity explosion! Wow, wow, and wow again, the sheer amount that he can snack and turn into what seems even more muscle and more sweetness. Guinness World Record. He knows his system is currently resetting, he wants to hand it the building blocks, he knows the math. Yes, even sick Jungkook is the cutest foodie in the world. Yes, he will eat his veggies. He worries about not being able to work out so you at least help him stretch his legs ever so slightly in bed. He’s missing his boxing gloves like crazy, he wants to see the members in the practice room, he wants his milk. The latter is easy to get for him, and FaceTime comes in handy. 

Namjoon does a little motivational speech, and Jungkook feels better almost instantly. Later on, you have to scold him — well, just a little bit — for getting up in all that enthusiasm to do some of his routine on the second day, but he already knows it’s not good for him to get his heart rate up like that. He patiently snuggles in a cocoon of duvets with only his eyes being visible. Until, finally, his red lil’ nose goes back to normal and his lungs feel a lot lighter. Jungkook really hates being dizzy, so it’s a weight off his hunky shoulders all right. Then, he can join you at the dinner table for a double portion of extra Parmesan Spaghetti, and you settle on the couch to bingewatch romantic animes and any Studio Ghibli movie in history.

★ ⌈jin⌋ ⇢ It simply can’t be helped, he even wants to make this funny. Humor really is a never-ending well, Jin is Spongebob’s long lost cousin if you go by his amount of meme talk. He calls himself Rudolph the Red-Nosed Jindeer, stuffs handkerchiefs into his nostrils, draws smileys on his knees with the cream usually meant for a dry philtrum (he now has very hydrated knees, how about that), does impossible contortions to find the right sleeping or reading position. Honestly, you don’t really have to take much care of him nor worry, Jin will cure himself through laughter. The power of positive emotion. Entertainment is nothing to provide for, he’s a one-man show after all. Jin is the least bored when he’s sick among the group, however! It needs someone else to exchange with, you know. No punchline without an audience. Listening is the best thing. 

Sit, lean back, see what he has to say. The only thing you gotta actively do is stop him from choking on his own spit after a particularly dead-on joke. Maybe it’s introducing some room for serious time that helps Jin enter a different track. I can imagine that. Some talk about memories, talk about sorrows and issues. Jin is a complete man, but he still has plenty of ’em, demons don’t evade handsome people. And those need to be talked through in a silent minute. Jin also enjoys movie nights with a cup of tea in one hand and syrup in the other, that’s the go-to way to unwind. You can finally go all out and pour him his tea, bake for him, serve some self-made popcorn, extra sticky and sweet, oh yum.

★ ⌈hoseok⌋ ⇢ If Jimin and Hobi ever get colds at the same time, this will be the poutiest contest. They’re the most vocal about it in the group. Hoseok, and that will come to surprise you a little, becomes needy. Not at the beginning where he’s confused and emotional about what’s going on with him (someone who works this hard and needs a fully functioning body is thrown out of their lane even by the slightest symptom), but shortly after. You’ll come to understand how sensitive his body is, almost as perceptive as Jungkook’s actually. His body blows up with a strong fever, a hot man heating up even more is just an explosion of physics. 

He needs handkerchiefs, he needs tons of water, he needs music to distract him a little, he needs a heating blanket for his feet once the fever is gone. Granted, every sick person depends on those things, but Hoseok is someone who calls out of the bedroom often because he ran out. He’s not afraid to ask for things unlike Namjoon who would refuse out of overt politeness. You certainly have a lot to do because his cold comes in strong so it’s important you enjoy taking care of him and don’t do it out of obligation. Quality time is what we’re talking about here. It’s not about you doing the things, it’s about the presence. That’s why Hoseok will use his money well and always order proper take-out that’s not just classic fast food, you don’t have to cook or anything.

related: putting bts to sleep after a hard day 

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[forever--rain]

27 or 28 for zutara!

27. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

28. One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

Zuko swims in and out of consciousness for the better part of a day. Whenever he manages to claw his way into something resembling alertness, his senses are swamped and driven into overload.

At first, there’s nothing but searing, all-consuming pain, as if someone is prying his chest apart with white-hot tongs. Through his cries, he thinks he hears Katara’s voice, but her words are indecipherable.

The second time he comes to, his vision has seemed to develop a swagger. There are two or three of everything in the room. The four-poster bed suddenly has eight, each of the posts wavering. Black spots explode through his eyesight, cartwheeling and erupting like morbid fireworks before eventually fading out to reveal Katara. First two of her, then three, then all of them merging back into one courageous young woman, tears streaking through the ashes on her face, her whole being lit by the fading red glow of the comet.

“Stay with me, Zuko,” she pleads. “Please. You’ve gotta... Please, please don’t give up! I’m not done with you, do you hear me? Zuko!”

Why would I leave you? he wants to ask. How could I give you up?

But then something glows violently blue like Azula’s lightning and he’s pulled into the black undertow of unconsciousness again.

The third time Zuko is awoken by the scent of an oncoming storm highlighted by fresh daisies. His neck is damp. The roaring pain in his chest has faded into a sharp ache. When he raises his hand to touch the wound, his fingertips meet the rough gauzy material of bandages. The firebender ekes open his unmarked eye and he is awarded with the sight of Katara curled into his side. He tries to say her name, but it comes out ill-formed and somewhat squeaky.

It doesn’t matter, the shift of his chest alone spurs Katara into motion in hardly an instant, taking the smell of rain and flowers with her. On her knees between his legs, she presses her hands to Zuko’s face, her eyes flinty and cold as they search his.

“Zuko?” she whispers.

Hi, he mouths back.

Quick as can be, the storm in Katara’s eyes rips loose, running in torrents down her face. Zuko doesn’t have words, so he reaches out to tug the waterbender into his lap, ignoring the pain that screams through his chest. He holds her close as she cries, his hands cradling her, his face buried in her hair.

I’m still here, he promises silently. I won’t leave you. Please don’t be afraid.

Katara cries for a long time. The comet has long since faded, yielding the sky to the moon once more by the time the last of her sobs and sniffles ebb away. At long last, she pulls back, wide blue eyes studying his face as she reaches out to brush his hair out of his face.

“Why?” she asks and Zuko sees her standing there in the courtyard, lightning bearing down upon her.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. Of course Azula knew. There could have never been a scenario in which she didn’t know. But Zuko doesn’t have words at the moment. He only has gestures. Swallowing down his nerves, he pulls one of Katara’s hands from his face and brings it to rest over his heart before he tentatively reaches out to place his own palm over the place where her own thrums in her chest.

Do you understand? he thinks, hoping his meaning shines through somehow. He thinks he feels Katara’s heart skip a beat. Her head tilts. The thumb belonging to her hand which still cups his cheek brushes against the corner of his mouth. Zuko feels his lips part with a nervous exhale. Her thumb catches on the lower before slipping down to his chin.

“There are much more rational ways of expressing that than diving in front of lightning, Zuko,” Katara whispers.

And then she leans in to kiss him, her lips tentative and pliant as they meet his. He returns the kiss with as much fervor as he can muster, feeling for the first time in a very long time that there may be something worth living for that isn’t a fool’s errand for his honor.

Send me a kiss prompt and a ship!

[super-secret-sick-fics]

hii i requested the last fic and i loved it very much! excited for pt 2 :D

OH and it wasn’t even out of character it felt like exactly how they would react! you write suna especially well aquarius twins

Thank you!! I’m so glad you liked it :) Here’s part 2!! I didn’t proofread this at all, so I apologize for any mistakes. 

I tried to make it so that they could each be read independently. Also I am bad at endings sorry lmao. 

Sick & Delirious: A SunaOsa fic (part 2 of Sick at School)

Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu

Word Count: 3,028

Warnings: Vomit, panic attack, swearing & fluff 

Part 1 Here 

___________________________

“Rintaro, you poor, poor baby!” Osamu’s mother cried as soon as she showed up to the front office of the school.

Shortly after the nurse agreed to let Osamu go home too, Suna and Osamu were escorted (slowly and with a small bin in hand) to the front to await Miya-san. They sat down and Suna almost immediately curled into Osamu’s warmth. If he wasn’t so sick, he’d be utterly embarrassed at how clingy he was being. Their hands had been joined since they left the classroom and Suna squeezed Osamu’s every time a cramp rolled through his body.

Now Miya-san was there, her hands immediately cupping Suna’s face and brushing back his hair.

“Geez, Ma. Give him some space. Bet ya won’t be that nice to me and I know you’re not being that nice to Tsumu,” Osamu scoffed.

“Well of course not,” she deadpanned, “yer both idiots. Rintaro is much nicer to your poor mother than her ungrateful children.” Osamu scoffed again.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay with you, Miya-san,” Suna interjected, undeterred by the Miya’s usual show. She looked over at him again and smiled gently.

“Of course. I’ve spoken with yer ma and she’ll bring over some clothes for ya when she’s off work. Now let’s go boys.”

***

“Shit, Rin,” Osamu woke up from his nap when Suna started heaving beside him. He sat up and rubbed Suna’s back as he leaned over the bed and threw up in the bin beside it. The crinkling plastic and splattering sounds reverberated painfully in Suna’s ears.

“S-sorry,” he spluttered.

“Don’t be,” Osamu whispered.

This was the third time in the last two hours that Suna and Osamu were awoken by Suna’s stomach. When they got back to the Miya’s house, Suna was directed to the guest room. Osamu leant him some clothes so he could change out of his uniform and brought him some water, crackers, and a bin. When he was getting ready to leave, Suna grabbed his wrist and asked him to stay. He wasn’t good at being sick and felt much better knowing Osamu was around to help.

When the fit let up, he rolled back into bed and wrapped his arms around Osamu’s stomach. He was shaking again, but this time it wasn’t because of the fever.

Honestly, he wanted to cry. He was so exhausted and his stomach ached so badly. His migraine was relentless. His body didn’t know whether it was cold or hot and all he wanted was to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time.

It didn’t help that Atsumu had set up camp for himself in the bathroom that was shared between the twins’ room and the guest room. He said that he didn’t mind the sleeping on the floor as long as it meant he could flush the vomit away immediately, instead of having it sit mocking him in the bin beside his bed.

The two of them seemed to be on opposite cycles. Every time Suna thought he could get some sleep, he could hear Atsumu start puking in the bathroom. Then every time Atsumu had quieted down for a bit, Suna’s stomach attacked him. He felt bad, knowing that Atsumu felt just as bad as he did and had to deal with the same things. Never in his life did he think that he would ever feel bad for stupid Atsumu. His fever must be pretty high.

“Rin,” Osamu sighed. Whenever they were both awake, Osamu’s hands were on Suna’s body somewhere, comforting him with little touches and gentle pats. Suna’s favorite thing was when one of his hands was in his hair, the other moving, ghosting his fingers up and down his back. Right now, one of his hands propped him up in the bed and the other was lying dormant on Suna’s head.

“Rin, are ya crying?”

Suna nodded. Osamu sighed again.

Slowly and carefully, as to not jostle Suna’s stomach he was sure, Osamu wiggled himself into lying down and repositioned Suna so he was laying on Osamu’s chest. Then he started ghosting his fingers up and down Suna’s back and caressing the back of his head. Suna wondered if Osamu knew that was his favorite.

“I’m sorry, Rin. I wish I could help ya,” he soothed and something inside Suna squeezed. He whimpered pathetically and curled further into Osamu’s chest.

With that, the dam broke loose. Hot tears started soaking Osamu’s shirt as Suna sobbed quietly.

“I-I don’t f-feel good,” he cried. His throat hurt, from the bile or being ill in general he wasn’t sure.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” Osamu comforted. If Suna were more cognizant, he probably would’ve blushed at the pet name.

He was sure that he liked Osamu and that Osamu liked him back, but they had never addressed it. They were both content to let things happened naturally, not minding the little more-than-friend’s touches here and there or the less-than-platonic-flirting they did at practice and in class. Being in this situation though and having Osamu being the one to take care of him really solidified how Suna felt.

Osamu let him cry for a while before Suna started hiccuping dangerously again.

“Rintaro, yer gonna make yer self sick again,” he exhaled. As if on cue, Suna gagged.

“N-no,” he moaned. Osamu sat up, taking Suna with him and reached down to pick up the bin beside the bed.

“Ya gotta let it happen, babe.” He put the bin on Suna’s lap. Suna glared at it half-heartedly before he felt his chest tighten uncomfortably and a gag forced its way out.

“How is there even anything left?” Osamu lamented. Suna answered with a painful heave. He also wondered the same thing.

Suna’s stomach felt hollow and yet nausea continued to plague him. The room spun as he heaved. His throat was scraped raw. At this point, he was barely aware of Osamu’s presence behind him. Through the fog, he knew he was there though, and that was reassuring enough.

A gurgle came from his stomach and he moaned. Within a few seconds, a wet, crackling, burp brought up the blue sports drink Osamu gave him to try and keep him hydrated. A few more painful heaves brought up more blue tinted vomit before his stomach seemed to allow him a break.

He collapsed into Osamu’s side, panting.

“My poor Rin,” Osamu cooed, but it was muffled, like he was talking to Suna through a pillow. He pulled Suna into his side and kissed the top of his head. The movements were happening in slow motion though, and Suna was, for the second time that day, thoroughly confused.

“‘Samu?” He tried, but his tongue was heavy in his mouth and he wasn’t sure that he made any sound.

“Yeah?” Osamu asked, rubbing up and down Suna’s arm. And wow….no. He didn’t like that. It set all of his nerves on edge. He tried to squirm away from the unwanted touch.

“Rin?”

Suddenly, everything was Too Much. He pushed on whatever was wrapped around him. The soft fabric beneath his hand itched painfully.

“Rin? What’s wrong?” A loud voice boomed in his ears and he flinched away.

“Le’ go...” he gasped, his chest felt like it was on fire. He weakly pushed again. Whatever was encasing him did not budge. His eyes burned and his surroundings swirled alarmingly.

“N-no,” he choked on something hot and sticky.

Then he was released from the bindings holding him and he felt the world tilt forward for just a second. His chest landed on something and it stopped. He was forced upright, and his field of vision changed. A blurry figure appeared in front of him. Maybe a person?

Something captured his face on either side and his eyes blew wide. Cold. No. Scratchy? No.

“Rinta...he...loo..me...whas…ong?” The voice exploded through his brain again and he whimpered. What was happening? Why was he so hot. It was so hot.

“Ho-t…”

Why was he alone? Wasn’t someone helping him before? Where did that person go? He needed help.

“Shit,” a voice cut through his haze. Osamu?

“It’s….I’ve go….”

Too quickly, he was moving. Whatever caged him before was back around him and he tried in vain to break free.

“‘Samu?” A new voice. He whined.

“Move,” too loud too loud too loud. He was released from the bindings again for just a second before being captured again. This time they were hot. And wet. And they torched his skin. He wriggled in yet another futile attempt to get free. What was that roaring sound?

“Whas...on?” The new voice again. Closer. It hurt his head.

“Hi….feve...high…”

Suna was in a new space. Things were different around him now and the sudden change made him dizzy. He coughed and then his mouth was full. He dropped his jaw heavily and his mouth was empty again.

“Fuck!” A screech and he moaned in response.

He was moving again and then his entire body was being pricked with icicles. It put his surroundings a little more in focus.

“Cold!” He shrieked. He tried to get away from the ice, but was held down.

“Tsumu….sorr...ease..” Another force held him down. It wasn’t as strong, but Suna couldn’t get away from it.

“No no no no…” he repeated, his entire face felt heavy. Was that possible? He writhed in pain. It hurt it hurt he wanted out.

“I’m sorry, Rintaro, I’m sorry,” the first voice shook. It was clearer now. It still pounded in his skull.

“Please please please please,” he said and it hurt his throat.

“Rin, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It was Osamu. He thrashed harder.

“I’m sorry, Samu, I can’t—“ oh that was Atsumu. One of the heavy things holding him down was gone. He fought against the last one. He almost won. It was gone for a second before there was a splash and something behind him grabbed him around his waist and held him down.

“No please it hurts please.” He begged. Someone was crying.

“Rin, it’s okay. Please calm down.” Osamu was behind him now. Behind him. Oh he must be what’s holding him down. Okay okay. That was fine. But why was he torturing him like this?

“Samu no…” he tried to push away. He was really really tired though.

“Yeah, Rin it’s me. I’m trying to help. Please let me,” Osamu said. But his voice was wrong. It was shaking and tight. Was he upset? He was trying to help? Okay okay. He trusted Osamu. He relaxed into Osamu’s hold. It got tighter.

Suna wasn’t sure how much time went by. He tried really hard to trust Osamu, even though the ice prickled and burned at his skin. Eventually, the pain lessened.

There was a soft whimpering sound and he couldn’t figure out who it was for a while. Then he realized it was him. Next, he felt the tears on his face and his entire body shivering.

Slowly, his environment came into focus. He was in the bathroom, more specifically a bathtub.

Finally, the fog in his brain cleared and he put two and two together. Osamu put him in a cold bath to bring his fever down.

“Osamu,” he said through chattering teeth.

“I’m sorry, Rin, I’m sorry,” Osamu said. His face was buried in Suna’s shoulder, but even still, he could tell hear his voice shaking from the cold. More than that, he sounded desperate. Almost defeated.

Suna hated it. He brought a hand up behind him and placed it on Osamu’s head, letting his own collapse back onto his friend’s shoulder. Osamu stiffened before whipping his head up.

“Rin?” He choked and Suna nodded lethargically.

“Can we please get out?” he whispered. Osamu nodded quickly. He got out and wrapped himself in a towel before helping Suna up. It was then that he realized he was still wearing his clothes. They clung to him and he grimaced at the feel. Osamu enveloped Suna in a fluffy towel and hugged him tightly.

Suna relished in the warmth for a second.

“C’mon, let’s getcha outta these wet clothes,” Osamu murmured and let Suna go. He lead him back to the guest room and sat him down in the desk chair. Suna’s teeth chattered noisily.

Osamu left, only to return a minute later with new clothes.

“Do ya need help?” he asked. Still unnaturally soft. It was starting to unnerve Suna. He nodded in response.

A little while later, Suna and Osamu were both sitting on the bed, dressed in dry clothes. Osamu sat in front of him, rubbing a towel over his hair, trying to get as much of it dry as he could. He was quiet. Suna was content to let things settle before he asked what was wrong. He knew Osamu would either talk to him when he was ready or if Suna pried a little.

His hands stopped moving and Suna was about to ask if he could lay down when Osamu bent forward and buried his face in Suna’s neck again.

Suna was a little lost, but put a hand on Osamu’s still damp hair anyway.

“Still too warm,” Osamu mumbled. He nuzzled his face into Suna’s shoulder. He was starting to get really worried and really agitated at Osamu’s weird behavior.

“Samu,” he demanded softly, “what’s the deal?” Osamu tensed in his hold then he sat up so abruptly it made Suna a little woozy. When the vertigo passed, he was face to face with a furious Osamu.

“What’s the deal?” Osamu seethed. Suna looked at him with wide eyes.

“Rin, you were gone!” Osamu shouted, making Suna’s head pound. Osamu stood up ferociously and started pacing the room. Suna wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

“Osamu, please I don’t feel good. Can you just be straight with me?” Suna complained. Osamu turned on him. His face was contorted and Suna was taken aback when he saw tears rolling down flushed cheeks.

“Osamu, what—“

“Rin, ya were gone. Ya were here but ya just weren’t. Ya didn’t know who I was or who Tsumu was and ya didn’t know where you were and fuck. It was terrifyin’. Ya screamed when I put ya in the tub. Saying that I was torturing ya and that ya were caged and shit,” Osamu sobbed. Suna’s chest twinged.

This was not his Osamu. He brought this man to this state?

“I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do. Ya kept throwin’ up but it didn’t seem like ya even knew it was happenin’,” Osamu continued. He fell to his knees.

“Yer fever was so high and it happened so quickly. Tsumu tried to help, but he’s still sick. My mom left to go get more medicine and I felt so helpless,” he whimpered before devolving into a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

Suna stared at the boy before him, shell-shocked. He eased himself onto the ground and crawled over to Osamu and hugged him. It wasn’t long before Osamu’s arms were wrapped around his middle and he started crying into Suna’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he soothed, “I don’t remember a lot of that. I remember being confused and cold and feeling like I was being held down, but I don’t remember anything else. I’m sorry, Osamu. I’m so sorry.” Osamu nodded, but kept crying and that was okay.

They stayed like that a little while longer, Suna shushing Osamu gently. Eventually, Osamu pulled back and wiped his face. Suna smiled softly at him and he chuckled sadly.

“Sorry,” he sniffled. Suna shook his head.

“I really need to lie down,” he said. He was starting to feel really heavy and nauseas again and it was getting difficult to keep his eyes open.

Osamu nodded and helped him back to the bed. He lay down and Osamu quickly followed, enveloping Suna into his chest. Suna nuzzled his face into the soft fabric of Osamu’s shirt. He felt Osamu place a kiss into the top of his head and give him a little squeeze.

“I’m sorry again,” he mumbled, half asleep already.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad yer alright. I’m sorry I freaked out on ya.” He stroked his hand up and down Suna’s back.

“‘S’okay. I’m just that important,” Suna yawned. Osamu chuckled and it warmed Suna’s heart and calmed his mind.

“Ya sure are. Go to sleep. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Osamu said. With his blessing, Suna fell asleep.

***

Later that night, Atsumu would show them a picture of the two of them cuddled up and drooling on each other that he took when he mustered up the strength to come check on things. Osamu yelled at him but Suna asked him to send it to him. He may have set it as his phone’s home screen.

By the next morning, Suna woke up to the sound of Osamu heaving beside him. It was unpleasant and made his stomach turn. Before he realized what was happening, he was sprinting to the bathroom and pushing Atsumu out of the way and emptying his stomach into the toilet.

“Sunarin, please,” Atsumu choked before turning to the bath tub.

Miya-san ran into the room and surveyed the situation.

“My poor boys,” she sighed, “I’m gonna go set up the livin’ room so I can watch all three of ya.”

And so Suna spent the next few days camped out in the Miya’s living room. Soon enough, Atsumu was well enough to help out his mom here and there. And when Suna was feeling up to it, he returned the favor and rubbed Osamu’s back as he puked disgustingly.

“Ya can go home if ya want,” Osamu panted between rounds. Suna shook his head.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you, stupid.”

Osamu smiled gratefully before his cheeks puffed out and he turned back to the bin. Suna laughed and kissed the back of his sweaty neck.

Maybe they didn’t define their relationship with labels, but Suna was pretty positive that he wanted to stick with Osamu for the rest of his life.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Pink Chains

Pt 3

Kyotani owns a grunge /punk apparel shop after leaving the Sendai Frogs after a incident with the Black Jackals. He designs his own clothes and hires Oikawa & Iwaizumi as his employees. Everything goes smoothly for awhile, till you walk in; pink dress, big smile , and bubbly personality. His whole life stops in that moment. 

Punk! Kyotani x Bubbly! F! Reader. ❤️

Kyo had walked you to school after the both of you had calmed down. He hated seeing you cry jesus christ, it hurt him to his core. All he could think about was those tears running down your pretty face down to your fake smile. He was really falling for you, this was a first for him so he had no idea if what he had been doing was right or what.

You skipped ahead of him, he glanced up a couple times and got a big smile on his face. You had on a blue dress with flats and his jacket on, it was too big for you of course but you insisted on wearing it. And that's when he knew he was doing it right. Seeing you in his clothes and having that big smile on your face that was just for him.

“Kyooo!!! I gotta go!”

He shook his head walking to you and putting his arms around your shoulders. “Do you? Skip sweetie.” He teased looking over you to see people staring.

“Kyo!” You gave him an angry face and he just laughed kissing your head. “I'll turn you into a rule breaker yet. Have a good day sweetie.”

“Not uh!” You squeezed him tightly for a minute. “Dont sweat this morning kay?!? I can fight with you, are you working today?”

Your words cut him deep, sure his friends had his back but this was .. different. You were willing to defend him from anything . Hopefully you never had to do that. He ran his fingers through your head and swayed a bit whispering in your ear. “People are staring,”

You giggled just squeezing him more and Kyo smirked , he placed a light smack on your thigh stepping back chuckling at the little yip you did .

“Kyo!”

“Yeah sweetie i work today but im closing early, beach volleyball with friends . Ill text you when i close up shop okay?”

“You better!!” You placed a kiss on his chest and ran off into the school looking back and waving before disappearing.

Kyo waited till you were in the school before leaving. He shot everyone a smug ass grin too as he made his way down the street. Fuck his car was still at the store.

Kyo was not in any rush to get to work. Hell it was his store whos gonna rage at him? No one . Hes the boss. And besides Iwaizumi is most likely there already opening up the store anyway. The heavy rings on his right hand clicked all around while he made his way down the boardwalk strip , hands in his pockets while he eyed all the shops.

Buncha no good stores. If it didn't cost so much to get his brand up and running he could have a bigger building , or at least a better location-… he stopped walking and shook his head. “That's a terrible idea. Kyotani cmon get it together.” He sighed, rubbing his sleeve. “I would never had met her..”

Bbbbbbeeep

“Mad Dog chaaaaaaan!!!!” A car zoomed up to him skidding to a stop . Oikawa peaked out the window grinning.

**

Meanwhile, you were just getting into the first class of the day. Everyone was sneaking looks at you because of the jacket but you had no idea. You were too caught up on last night to really pay attention. Trying to take your mind off it you pulled a red notebook from your bag to doodle while listening to the teacher.

Soon enough the blank notebook page was full of design ideas; red pandas with hats , clothes and big fluffy tails. The designs were really cute , your teacher even complimented them from time to time . But you really just wanted a brand to pick you up, graduation was soon and you did not want to not have a job lined up.

“Y/n.. hey y/n”

A voice next to you alerted you to look up and over to see Kio, the girl who sat next to you in class.

“Oh hey Kio, whats up?!?”

Kio placed her hand on her head with her elbow on the table looking you over in this jacket. She never really talked to you unless she needed notes and was only taking this class for the credit she needed .

“That jacket is so different from what you wear y/n. Where'd ya get it?”

You were about to answer her but heard a snicker behind you , must be Yukio, Kios friend, also in need of credits for graduation. Would probably be best not to mention the store, Kyo did not need the harassment.

“Its my boyfriend's jacket!” You told them pulling it close with a big smile on your face.

Kio and Yukio locked eyes then looked at you .

“Boyfriend?” Kio asked.

“Looks like he has the opposite style as you y/n.” Yukio chimed in , leaning over her table. “Was he that guy with you this morning?”

“Yep!!!”

“He looks.. familiar..” Kio said tapping her pen on his lips.

“He does huh?” Yukio said leaning closer. “Whats his name hm?”

“..Kyo?” You were starting to get uncomfortable with all the questions.

“Oh!!!” Yuki yipped looking at Kio. “Kyotani! The Sendai Frogs!!!”

“..the Frogs? So hes..” Kio shot you a look. “He beat up Bokuto. For no goddamn reason.”

You shuffled around in your seat sneaking glances at the clock hoping it would somehow speed up so you could leave. It was not their business to know the reason behind it. Kyo was a very sweet guy , you had only known him a day but in those hours together you had never been happier; he opened up to you, cried even. Kyotani genuinely feels bad about that incident. He helped you through the tattoo instead of getting upset and brought you around his friend. The smirky smile he threw you always gave you butterflies in your stomach and sent your heart a flutter. He was just a misunderstood guy trying to start over with his friends.

You pulled the jacket off as soon as you heard the sweet sound of the bell and gathered up your bag standing up with the jacket over your arm close to your heart.

“Where do you think youre goin?” Kio got up following you out of the classroom along with Yukio. “Were not done y/n.”

Yukio grabbed your bag yanking it back and You spun around with a big smile and a sweet but slightly angry voice. “Kyo is a good guy and i really like him. I don't care if you two don't. You dont know the whole story either. And please stop following me, its not nice.” You waved at them so they could see your tattoo and you left in a quick pace down the hall . You pulled your phone from your bag texting with shaky hands.

**

Oikawa had dropped Kyo off at his store so he could drive home to shower and change and then go back to start his shift. He was tired and thankful no one could tell he had been crying the night before. Iwaizumi probably knew but he did not say anything, not with Oikawa around.

Kyo had on his shops uniform shirt which was a red dog house on a black shirt that said The Dog House on the back wrapped in chains. The summer line was selling smoothly and Mattsun had let him know that Yahaba agreed to come to the beach volleyball . He helped Iwaizumi unload a shipment while Oikawa was manning the front .

“So how'd it go last night?” He asked, passing Kyo a box.

“I told her .. everything.” The box was set down

“Oh ..? You? You did? What she say?” Iwa got another box groaning from its weight and giving it to Kyo

“Fucking hell.. would it kill them to pack the boots in all the boxes.. she said she was not scared of me. Dammit Iwaizumi she said she would fight with me.” He set the box down cursing .

“Fuck.. Kyotani.” Iwaizumi closed the truck up patting the back watching it drive off. “I know you've only just met her but she seems- Kyo?” He looked at his friend and he was staring at his phone , he looked like he was going to punch something .

Y/n: Kyo.. these girls in my class asked me about my jacket so i said it's my boyfriends and they asked your name cuz you look familiar and I told them and they .. brought up the Incident .

Y/N: i uhm, i did not say anything else but they were upset cuz they like Bokuto i guess but.. i left and they followed me and.. yanked me back. I .

Y/n: i was tough like you would be and asked them to leave me alone and i left. But.. uhm.. can.. can you call me when you can please..

“Iwaizumi...”

“You dont gotta say it. I can watch the front for a minute. “ he put his hand in Kyotanis arm watching his friend huff and puff . “Relax. Take a deep breath. “ Iwaizumi left his friend and Kyotani sat down on a box outside looking at the clouds in the sky with his phone to his ear.

“Kyo…” you sounded shaky and panicked

“Sweetie. Take a deep breath.” He was surprisingly calm sounding. He wanted to explode on the inside though, march right back to that school and take you into his arms and scare the hell out of those girls..He heard you breath in and out a few times till it evened out.

“Alright. Where are you right now Sweetie?”

“The.. outside.. courtyard..”

“Is it pretty there? Tell me what you see.” He leaned back on a box with his back to his shop. He brought one knee up tracing his index finger around in one of the holes in his jeans tugging at the strings making it bigger.

“Uhm… magnolias.. an oak tree.. some students are studying. It is pretty..”

“Sweetie..”

“Yes..?”

“Everything is okay now. Okay?”

“I.. yeah.. I tried to be tough but..i don't know. I said your a good guy cuz you are and I asked them to leave me alone.”

He ripped a few strings in the hole maging it even bigger over his knee. “Do you want me to pick you up after school?”

“Yeah.. i .. i just.”

“Ill be there sweetie.” He suddenly got an idea. “Promise. Now hows my happy girls day going now?”

He heard you giggle and the both of you relaxed slowly while you talked on the phone. You told him about your classes and the doodles you did too and Kyo asked you to send him them, he did not say why though.

“I gotta go sweetie. Ill be out front okay?”

“Kay.. have a good day Kyo.”

“You too Sweetie.” He hung up the phone and got up feeling the fire in him grow again.

After moving the boxes in he went to the front pulling Kawa and Iwa aside to the register explaining what happened. They were both upset over what they heard. Kyotani smirked texting Mattsun then looking at his friends.

“So after beach volleyball you know what we gotta do right?”

“Ou im excitedddd.” Kawa said with a big smile

“I gotta say im excited too.” Iwa said smirking and leaning on the register . “Im sure Mattsun is eager too.”

Kyo looked down reading the text with a side smirk. “Fuck with my girl and see what happens…”

**

@squeaky-ducky @zoppzoop

@haikyuu-but-low-iq @mochababes @kozushiki. @milkbreadcat @derpeedoo

*

[spinbitchzu]

citrus kisses

Darling, you don’t need to say what you mean, ‘cause your kisses taste like tangerines. Aka: cole’s love language is tart and sweet and reminds Kai of things he thought he’d lost. 

hey uhhh so. I don’t write ninjago fic often but apparently when i do, it’s about the inherent romanticism of peeling an orange and also action-oriented love languages. anyway you know the drill. lavashipping, a bit over 2k words. unbeta’d bc we die like men. 

The oranges that grew in Ignacia grew in huge groves.

It’s one of Kai’s only memories with his whole family: walking between his parents in the long aisles stretching between the lines of trees, Nya’s tiny, chubby hand clasped carefully in his own as she toddled along beside him. The smell of oranges was everywhere, and that day they picked enough to last them for weeks and weeks. 

He can still recall his dad’s hands braced around his ribs as he hoisted Kai up to pick a Valencia orange bigger than his head from a high branch, eyes squinting against the bright sun on his face. He’d felt such pride that day, as he carried his treasure around for all to see.

He remembers summers of frothy fresh-squeezed orange juice in the morning, afternoons of fragrant orange cake, and evenings of carefully-partitioned segments that exploded juice on his tongue. His mom used to make ambrosia for Saturday morning breakfast, the orange slices piled high with coconut shavings and thick, fluffy whipped cream. She’d scold him when he peeled the oranges himself; his forceful little thumbs always dug too far into the flesh and sent the juice squirting everywhere. Instead, she clucked her tongue and peeled it for him with easy, deft movements while he sucked the stickiness off his fingers.

Those days—patchworks of hot nights and sunshine through the kitchen windows and the smell of citrus on his mother as she leaned in to kiss him goodnight—they’re days Kai can hardly remember the older he gets. 

After his parents disappeared, no one took Kai and Nya to the Valencia groves; no one whipped the cream for ambrosia; no one lifted him to the highest branches for the best oranges. He simply had to wait until he was tall enough to reach them himself.

He doesn’t think about those memories very often, and Nya was so young, he doubts she remembers it at all. It’s not like he ever gets a summer off to return home either, so instead he lets the memory fade until it’s almost entirely forgotten. He locks it in the part of his brain that he’s sectioned off because it’s too painful to keep clinging to when things were that good. It’s okay. 

The past tastes like oranges and coconut cream, and Kai has left it behind.

...

Kai forgets why they’re making a stop over Ignacia, but it just so happens that the nearest rural area place for them to moor is over the Valencia groves he had nearly forgotten about. 

He stands at the front of the ship, leaning over the railing with his chin propped up on his pillowed arms to study the trees extending in every direction, the dark leaves bejewelled with not-quite-ripe January oranges. The sun overhead is more of a pale, cold disk, and Nya is somewhere below-deck, but it makes him melancholy anyway.

Footsteps approach from behind him—heavy but soft: Cole. He leans over the railing beside Kai, bracing his forearms against the wood as he surveys the landscape. “Hey. Whatcha doin’ out here, stranger?”

“Just lookin’,” he murmurs back. He hums to himself. “Did you know I used to come to this grove with my family as a kid?”

“I didn’t even know you liked oranges,” Cole replies, giving him a sideways glance. He smiles when Kai glances back, dark eyes crinkling. “Do you want to go down now? I’m sure we could grab a few and no one would miss ‘em.”

“Nah, that’s alright,” Kai says with half a grin. “They’re not ripe. And I don’t like oranges that much anyway. Too hard to peel. They just made me think about—things I hadn’t let myself think about for a while.”

“What kind of things?” Cole asks, nudging him with an elbow.

The touch grounds him and he’s grateful for it. He shrugs in a way that’s neither here nor there. “Just things. Home, I guess. My life? Before all the...ninja stuff.”

“Is that a good thing?” Cole tilts his head. In this light, his eyes turn from obsidian to sunlight through whiskey as he waits for an answer.

Kai makes a contemplative noise. “I don’t know. Hurts less than I expected, after everything. It’s bittersweet.” He sighs then, shoulders falling with the motion. “It really is making me miss oranges, though. I don’t know why I lied before—I really do like them.”

He looks back at the groves below and misses the look Cole gives him—measured and curious.

“What about you, do you like oranges?”

“Some. The sweet ones.”

“You’d like these ones, then,” Kai tells him, cheeks rising as he smiles. “The oranges from Ignacia are the biggest, sweetest ones around. They’re good just by themselves, but my mom made a mean ambrosia with them.”

“I bet Zane could replicate the recipe if you told him what it was,” Cole replies.

Kai just shrugs. “Maybe so. He’s sharp like that.”

They fall silent. Kai can physically feel Cole worrying about him and his rare bout of melancholy, so he squares his shoulders and musters up a grin. “Hey, Cole, you—,”

“You don’t have to,” is what Cole interrupts him with, paired with a weighted look that settles around him like a blanket. “I don’t mind the quiet. You’re allowed to, Kai.”

All the feigned bravado drains out of him. Kai stares at him for a second and wonders when Cole got so good at gauging his moods. There’s so many words unspoken inbetween what he says and that earnest, draping look in his eyes and Kai kind of aches with it.

“Okay,” he says instead, shoulders slowly falling. His chin dips to rest on his crossed forearms again and he leans into it when Cole slips as arm around him. “Okay.”

The nippy January wind dances around them, stirring their hair and whipping at their gis, but Kai tips his head against Cole’s shoulder and feels warm down to his toes.

...

“Holy crap, what the hell did you do?” Kai can’t help asking a week later, as Lloyd and Zane walk into the kitchen carrying groceries.

“There was a sale on tangerines at the grocery store,” Zane answers primly, setting his paper bag on the counter. “I thought it prudent to take advantage of it.”

“We have like a hundred pounds of these things,” Lloyd adds, setting his own bag down. “We’re going to be eating tangerines until we get old and grey.”

“Zane, man, you know I love a sale as much as the next guy, but this is a little overboard,” Cole says as he comes in, two more bags of tangerines hoisted on his shoulders. Kai does not stare, thank you very much, as much as he’s been finding it kind of hard to avoid when it comes to Cole and lifting things recently.

“Proper intake of vitamin C is important in preventing scurvy,” Zane replies, though he’s blinking the way he does when he’s getting embarrassed. “It’s a common illness in sailors.”

“Does that still apply  if the ship can fly?” Lloyd wonders.

“Or if we’re in the twenty-first century?” Kai adds wryly, eyebrows high.

“I’m sure we’ll find some way to finish them all,” Cole pipes up. “Don’t worry about it, Zane.”

“I was not.” Zane turns away to put away the rest of the groceries while Kai and Cole exchange an amused look. As he bustles back and forth, Kai grabs a tangerine from the bag behind him and turns it over in his hands, studying the way the light catches on the dimpled rind.

“Hey,” Kai says quietly, leaning across the kitchen counter. “Did you do this?”

Cole just shrugs with a crooked grin. “I didn’t do anything. You know Zane and sales. Can’t resist ‘em.”

“You did,” Kai deduces, eyeing his teammate’s reddening ears. He feels his expression soften. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” Cole says in response. He reaches over Kai, coming very, very close, until their noses are close enough to brush. His eyes are very dark and very close and Kai would very much like to kiss him right now.

“Um, uh,” Kai says, very eloquently.

“Not in the kitchen, please,” Zane calls from the pantry, because he hasn’t a romantic bone in his body (or any bones, to be fair to him).

Cole just grins and pulls back, displaying the tangerine he’d grabbed from behind Kai with a flourish. “I’m heading to the training deck. See you around, Hot Stuff.”

“R-right,” he mumbles (like an idiot), fighting the heat settled in his cheeks. He watches Cole go and feels distinctly like an opportunity has sailed over his head.

...

Cole smells like oranges these days.

Kai only notices because that isn’t his normal smell, which is much more organic soaps and something earthy and fresh. It’s a smell that clings to the hoodies Kai keeps pilfering from his closet—comforting in its familiarity. 

The abrupt invasion of tangy citrus makes him do a double take the first time he smells it. And then he reaches into the pocket of the hoodie and finds a tangerine. It’s store bought, with a little sticker on the side, and it’s not exactly a strange sight for any reason, but it sort of confounds him.

“Hey,” he says, walking into the kitchen, the object of confusion held gingerly in his hand. “Is this a tangerine?”

Cole looks up from where he’s making a sandwich and raises an eyebrow. “Is that my hoodie?”

“I asked first,” Kai replies quickly, before he has time to pink up.

“I mean, yeah, five points for powers of deduction,” Cole says cheekily. “Congratulations, it’s a tangerine. We gotta finish them somehow, don’t we?”

“I—yeah,” Kai says absently. Cole holds out a hand for it and he tosses it over wordlessly, before he even thinks too much about it.

“You said they’re hard to peel, right?” Cole asks, digging his nails into the rind. He peels it in the shape of a flower and then splits the orange in half with his thumbs to hold out to Kai. “Here.”

Kai looks down at the segment being offered to him in an open palm and then back at Cole with his earnest, crinkly-eyed smile, and feels something stutter fatally in his chest.

“Thanks,” he manages to say, as his heart cracks open to let sunshine stream all in, filling his ribcage with warmth.

He bites into the fruit and feels his mouth fill with juice and thinks about how his mother used to peel oranges when he was too clumsy to and then about how Cole leaves tangerines in the pockets of the hoodies he knows Kai will steal and peels them for him in the shape of a flower, even though it turns his nails all yellow. He thinks of it so hard he forgets to make a face that doesn’t show about seven years of adoration on it and when he looks back at Cole, he’s already looking back with realization blazing across his expression.

“Kai?” he asks, voice wavering as his throat bobs with his nervous gulp.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and then grabs Cole by the collar of his shirt and kisses him, soft and open-mouthed, across the kitchen island. He’s so filled up with sweet oranges and sunlight and the heat of Cole’s skin that he forgets to even be afraid of this, as much as it’s frightened him in his fantasies. He stops being afraid of it altogether when Cole sighs into his mouth and cards a hand through his hair.

When they finally draw back, Cole’s pupils are blown huge and dark and he’s looking distinctly Kissed with a capital K. Kai would very much like to continue that endeavor.

“You taste like oranges,” Cole chuckles as he tugs Kai around the island to pull him closer.

You taste like home, he wants to say, but then Cole leans over him to cup his jaw and kiss him breathless, and Kai decides to let it go unspoken. There are more important things to attend to.

…

In the early summer, Cole and Kai negotiate with the others for a three-day vacation in early June. They drive in a rented car to the Valencia grove outside Ignacia and pick enough oranges to last the ship for weeks. Cole boosts him on his shoulders to help him reach the huge oranges at the tree tops and they laugh the whole time, chasing each other through the orchard and trading citrus kisses. Kai wonders if it’s possible to burst with happiness.

“I’m sick of eating oranges,” Lloyd complains when they come home bearing the (literal) fruits of their labor, newly sun-tanned and smiling.  

“Really?” Kai tilts his head, considering. “Seems to me like I can never get enough of ‘em.”

“Was that some sort of romantic metaphor?” Lloyd asks with a wrinkled nose. “Gross.”

Cole laughs from where he’s watching and sidles up from behind to rest his big hands on Kai’s hips. 

“Yeah,” Kai says affectionately. “Gross.”

“Not in the kitchen,” Zane calls from the next room, but Kai just leans back against Cole and closes his eyes to drink in the moment.

It’s worth it, he decides. All the fighting. All the losing. All the danger. It’s worth it to eat oranges in the kitchen with people he loves.

“What are you thinking about?” Cole teases, his voice rumbling low in his chest against Kai’s back.

“Nothing,” he says with a smile, opening his eyes. “I just love oranges.”