#I just want small simple stars spread out on my shoulders and chest like freckles

[passionpeachy]

Almost every tattoo I want includes tattooing my chest and apparently that's a very painful spot.....perhaps I'm destined to be a plain jane forever (never dyed my hair, no tattoos, only ears pierced)

[oldtowrs]

˗ˏˋ LOVELY PRESENCE; obi-wan kenobi x handmaiden!reader

SUMMARY - the reader, a handmaiden and obi-wan’s love, visits the jedi temple to spend a last evening together before obi-wan is sent on a mission to corellia, and finds him in the middle of training. needless to say, obi-wan throws caution to the wind and shameless fluff ensues

WORD COUNT - ~4.3k

A/N - ayyy... its more of my golden boy, haha. i don’t know what you all expected really. this is really just shameless fluff for fluff’s sake. i hope you all enjoy. and please i don’t want to get any comments saying ‘they could’ve gotten caught, blah blah.’ yes i know, that’s the point. i said shameless fluff did i not? small font and no caps is intentional. and for the story’s sake, just pretend that no one saw obi-wan and the reader, okay? okay. also i’m going to tag @obaewankenobis and @karasong / @hellotherekenobi bc they liked the excerpt i posted from this piece. here’s the full thing enjoy :)

WARNINGS - obi-wan in a tank top. i said what i said. 

coruscant shone golden in the last rays of the setting afternoon sun. the buildings, huge pillars of metal and glass, reflected the golden light every which way, illuminating the many hovercraft that flew through the coruscanti airspace, looking like little trails of stardust in the sky. the sky, with its painted gradient of vibrant hues, and clouds which interrupted the color in such elegant ways, acted as a beautiful backdrop for the gleaming city.

as padme’s advisor and handmaiden, you had seen many beautiful sunsets and sunrises, the sun rising from or melting into one of the many beautiful lakes of naboo. but none of them could’ve paralleled the gleaming grandeur of coruscant, the seat of power of the republic, in her final golden hour.

but even as you admired the beauty of the city-planet, you knew there was a beauty more divine than that of naboo and of coruscant and of the whole inner rim combined: and he was standing before you in the gardens of the jedi temple,wielding his lightsaber in preparation for the mission he was to depart on come morning. his auburn hair fell into his slightly freckled face, into his beautiful blue eyes that shone like a thousand stars, as he moved. his jedi robes had been laid upon a stone bench, discarded in the heat of training, leaving him in nothing but his dark trousers tucked into his leather boots, and a black, sleeveless undershirt. the shirt revealed his freckled shoulders and muscular arms as he swung his saber in arcs about him, and the sun seemed to both seep into his skin like honey and glow upon touching the lovely freckles surface. every part of him was awash in gold as the sun kissed his skin and danced about his beard and hair, turning the auburn strands into warm, roughspun gold.

he was beautiful in all that he was, strong and dedicated and driven by peace and focus, as a high ranking jedi master and general should be. he was a honeyed, shining golden in the brilliant sun. and he was all yours.

obi-wan.

then, in a moment he had turned to face you, his lightsaber spinning in a wide, elegant arc until the hilt came to a halt by his head, the end of the saber outstretched, opposing hand pointing directly at you. those beautiful blue eyes that you so dearly loved seemed to shine with the light of a thousand stars as his gaze met yours. a smile immediately lifted the corners of his lips. he hurriedly began to make his way towards you, dropping the saber to his side, the blade withdrawing into nothingness as he forged his way through the gardens.

‘darling!’

the endearment was almost a sigh of relief, of comfortability, as it passed his sweet lips and graced your ears with its soft tenor and lilt of his elegant coruscanti accent.

he clipped his lightsaber to the leather utility belt about his hips, before taking your face in his hands and placing his lips gently on yours. his thumbs traced delicate circles on your cheeks, and you felt him smile into the kiss as your heated blush rose to meet his touch. he smelled of his soaps and colognes, of his soft linens, of the garden, of him, of home and you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss happily.

panic filled your heart as you suddenly pulled away from him, hands delicately wrapping around his forearms, as you tried reluctantly to pull out of the kiss that had you falling faster and faster into his lovely orbit.

‘obi-wan! someone might see!’

obi-wan's eyes turned soft, the stars in his eyes dimming only so his love could shine through. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, and while you were still worried about being caught kissing a jedi, risking everything obi-wan had ever known, you couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, into his touch. your hands, significantly smaller and more delicate than his, slid gently up his bare arms to cover his as they continued to caress circles upon circles of his love into your skin.

‘don’t worry, sweetling,’ he murmured, the words gentle against your forehead as they graced the space-though it was limited-between you two. ‘there’s no presence but yours for at least the next several hundred yards.’

it was true. what with the galactic war, the jedi order had been spread thin. even the jedi council hadn’t had a meeting at which all members were present for months; or at least that was what obi-wan told you in the quiet hours of the night in which he returned, from long days of maintaining the order of the galaxy, to his chambers-to the image of you tucked delicately beneath his linens or your silks. those were the hours before his words turned sugary sweet and more intimate and began to accompany a plethora of gentle kisses.

obi-wan, being the powerful jedi he was, would be able to sense the presence of another being as they moved through the force; and if he was comfortable enough to bring you close and pepper your face with butterfly-like kisses, then you supposed you could allow yourself to relax into his touch.

‘and as lovely as your presence is, darling,’ obi-wan began, his callouses gentle against your skin as he moved to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. ‘whatever are you doing at the jedi temple?’

‘i was sent on official business by senator amidala,’ you said, raising your chin into the air haughtily, a note of pride taking hold in your voice.

‘and what might your business be, my lady,’ obi-wan said, drawing ever near as his hands drifted down your arms and the elegant silks sleeves of your dress until his fingers found and wove themselves between yours. his thumbs continued their circular escapades on the surface of your skin-which you now realized was growing just as honeyed as his in the afternoon light.

you’ve bewitched me, master kenobi.

‘to admire and oversee the activities of a certain jedi master who’s lovely presence i will miss dearly after he leaves my side to go hunt down clues of the sith and of battleships and criminals on somefar off planet,’ you said, admiring the way the deepening wrinkles at his eyes gathered beautifully as a smile grew upon his lips-those soft, pillowy lips that you could drown in forever.

‘admiring a jedi?’ obi-wan laughed heartily, the sound of it rich and loving against your ears. ‘on such sacred grounds as these? you must have some courage, darling.’

‘if i remember correctly, master kenobi,’ you hummed happily, his title and reputation falling sweet like rose petals from your lips, ‘it was you who just kissed me on such ‘sacred grounds.’’

and there he was, again, leaning in close, slanting his lips against yours as though it would be the last time he would get the chance to kiss you, to take your breath away with such a simple action, to make your heart melt beneath his gentle touch--like he needed the constant reassurance of your kiss to weather the cruelties of a galaxy at war. and when he pulled away, absolute adoration lingered there in his baby blue eyes, as though stars had imploded along the lines of your lips as he kissed you, and their stardust had collected in his shining blue irises so that they may always remember your beauty and the stars that danced about your skin like little shadows.

‘my stars, darling,’ he sighed, ‘i would kiss you for eternity if it meant the first thing i would see when my lips parted forms yours was the sweet beauty of your face. i would kiss you for an eternity and longer if it meant i got to be in your lovely presence for always and forever.’

‘obi-wan, love, you’re making it really hard not to dread your departure already,’ you sighed, pouting ever so slightly in the way that you knew would pull at obi-wan’s heartstrings.

‘don’t worry, little one. i’ll come back to you, whole and in need of your sweet kisses,’ obi-wan hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. ‘and it just so happens that i have been relieved of my duties for tonight to ready myself for the mission.’

‘and what might that preparation include, master kenobi,’ you asked teasingly, and watching him preen under your endearment. his station was something to be proud of, to have worked so hard, to have come from nothing and to now be a jedi master and general, and the best negotiator and diplomat the order had. he embodied all the code stood for: compassion, patience, discipline. and you knew that deep down, somewhere, hidden away with his immense love for you was a mild sense of pride at all he accomplished-though he would never let it show.

‘i was thinking of spending my time with a handmaiden i rather enjoy the presence of--a handmaiden i have formed quite the attachment to.’

‘she must be a very lucky woman then, to have the affections of someone as accomplished and as endearing as you.’

‘oh, but i am the luckiest man in the galaxy to love her and call her mine.’

your heart swelled at his words. his?

obi-wan leaned down to kiss you once more, this time his hands finding purchase in the cotton and silk that made up the back of your dress, splaying themselves about your back as though he were cradling you ever closer to his chest in an almost protective manner.

‘yes, darling.’ he managed in between the soft pillowy kisses he pressed to your lips, the tip of your nose, your cheeks and forehead, any part of you he could reach with those wonderful lips of his. ‘all mine.’

your hands rested against his chest, the thin material of his undershirt allowing you to feel the muscle which rippled beneath his beautifully freckled skin from years dedicated to his training and to the order. the fabric was soft as your fingers trailed down his chest, to his hips where the cool metal of his saber kissed your fingers.

‘teach me,’ you murmured, lips brushing against obi-wan’s as the words left your lips. confusion drew his eyebrows together, a small crease forming between them in a way you couldn’t help but adore.

‘teach you what, sweetling?’ he asked, voice velvety and soft against your ears.

‘teach me how to use a lightsaber.’

a smile took over those soft lips you so dearly loved, and a laugh erupted in the evening air. he was beautiful when he laughed, color painting his cheeks and his hair falling out of his face as he leaned his head back in his laughter. you would’ve admired the lovely sound and the way his eyes wrinkled at the corners had your words not been cause for it.

‘why are you laughing at me? i’ve fought to protect senator amidala on many occasions with both a blaster and vibroblades. why not a lightsaber? or did you forget i’ve been trained in close combat as well, master kenobi.’

‘i never said no, darling,’ obi-wan sighed, coming down from his laughter to press a gentle hand to your cheek, thumb tracing circles into your skin. ‘however, the thought of you with such civilized technology is quite a fearsome one indeed.’

‘please, obi-wan?’

obi-wan’s gaze softened, knowing in his heart that you meant too much to him to deny you any one of your many requests.

‘i suppose,’ he sighed, worry mingling with the warmth in his crystal blue gaze, as he begged of you, ‘just promise me you’ll be careful. i hate to even think about harm coming to you, much less see you harmed by my weapon and under my supervision.’

‘i promise.’

its then that his fingers find the palm of your hand, guiding it into his strong, calloused, yet gentle grasp, as he pulls you from the sanctuary of the temple and into the wild delicacy of the gardens. a soft click sounds and the cool metal of obi-wan’s saber kisses the tips of your fingers as he pulls you close and presses the saber into your delicate hands. he wraps your fingers around the hilt, and raises your hand to kiss your knuckles, his beard tickling the skin there.

‘this weapon is dangerous as it is beautiful, darling. do you understand?’

‘yes, my love.’

he pulls you into the clearing in the center of the gardens, stone tiles sturdy beneath your feet. soon his figure is wrapped around your, your back pressed firmly against the strong musculature of his chest as his strong, star-freckled arms wrap around your own, guiding your hands and body into a stance he deemed worthy of training in.

‘you must always be aware of your body in position to your saber,’ he explained, his voice low in its velvety depth as he buried his lips in your hair, the top of your head grazing his delicate cheekbones. ‘you must always be aware and precise in your movements. one wrong move could prove fatal.’

as much as you wanted to focus on his words, his close proximity was very distracting. the heady, musk of him overwhelmed your sense in the most pleasantly soft manner, and the delicate brush of his skin against yours was enough to set your nerves alight in blissful agony. you wanted to melt into him, to meld into the softness of his heart, the warmth of his being and voice. there was so much of him that you loved, and it was just so close… he was just so close.

‘focus your thoughts, darling,’ he chuckled sweetly, the deep tenor of his voice rumbling softly in his chest as he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, into the softness of your hair.

‘sorry,’ you said sheepishly. sometimes you forgot just how strong his connection with the force was, and how he could read you like an open book. of course, you’d given him permission to do so--convincing him that you were okay with having his loving presence in your consciousness, that it wasn’t an invasion of your privacy. you had had to convince him that having his warmth in the corners of your mind was one of the most comforting feelings you’d ever known, that is wasn’t a burden or an overreach or a breach of your trust.

‘it’s okay, sweet one,’ he hums sweetly. ‘just focus on my movements.’

his hands wrapped around yours, pressing them into the hilt as he tilted the end of it away from you. blue light filled your field of vision as he ignited it.

‘this is called a low guard. it's a good place to start dueling, as you can move any which way from this position’ obi-wan explained, the passion for his practice and the dedication to his order seeping into the softness of his voice, turning the tone sweeter than honey. ‘focus on fluidity, and precision, darling. yes, perfect. now bring it down to your side, and up in an arc.’

obi-wan’s praise was enough to send your head spinning, and your heart reeling with contentment. there was nowhere else in the whole galaxy you wanted to be than in obi-wan kenobi’s arms, the callousness and softness of his hands pressed firmly into your own as he guided your hand down into a steep arc before bringing it down to the opposite side. his arm crossed over your body in a way that was reminiscent of the way he would wrap his arms languidly about your waist so as to hug you in the way he loved to in the early hours of the morning in which the two of you woke in the others chambers as the sun’s rays just began to kiss the clouds high above. your heart fluttered like a thousand butterflies pushing against the limits of your lungs in a campaign for freedom-a freedom to press your face into his chest, to give him a kiss for every star-freckled blemish upon his skin.

‘and that would be a basic defensive maneuver,’ he hummed, interrupting your wandering thoughts before guiding you through the motion a couple times to work it into your muscle memory. his tutelage continued on like this until the sky was only lit by the last remnants of the sunset.

‘let me try,’ you whispered into the small space between you. he let go, his skin leaving its precious contact with yours as your nerves almost screamed for him to come back.

you tried some of the maneuvers on your own, getting a feeling for the balance of the elegant weapon in your own hands. it was similar to its dagger analog, a defensive art you had learned upon padme’s admission into the senate. a smirk pulled at the side of your lips as an idea formed in your mind. just beware of the blade, obi wasn’t voice echoed in your memory.

quickly, you began the maneuver, turning around and wielding the blade in a flourishing so that it came to rest by your head in the way obi-wan had done upon your arrival to the jedi gardens.

mild panic and pride mixed beautifully in obi-wan’s face, pulling at it in ways that gently tugged at the light wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. obi-wan would be lying if he said that his heart did not jump into his throat in fear that something would go wrong, that you would hurt yourself in your playfulness. however, when he saw you, alive and unscathed, pride gleaming in your eyes as the flourish put him in a position that would’ve won you a battle, he couldn't have been more proud of you-his love wielding his lightsaber as if it was what you were born to do.

‘how’s my form, master kenobi?’ mischief dripped from your words, his title slipping off your honeyed tongue so elegantly that it elicited a delicate warmth in his chest, and a heated redness to his cheeks.

with a flick of his finger, the blade disappeared into the hilt, into nothingness, under his deft manipulation of the force, before he reached for you, pulling your small, delicate form into his. his arms wrapped around you, the silks and chiffons of your simple dress kissing his arms as he pulled you into him and placed his lips sweetly-albeit a little forcefully-in a kiss that melted both your heart and his own.

‘and when i thought you possibly occupy and melt any more of my heart, you’ve found a way to prove me wrong.’ he hummed into the small space between you, the vibrations and soft brushes of the suppleness of his lips delicate and heartwarming against yours

his heart felt as though it collapsed like a dying star before being reborn again as you buried your face into the warmth of his chest, his exposed skin soft against yours. one hand found purchase among the soft strands of the hair at the back of your head, as the other wrapped around your waist and pulled you ever closer against him. he pressed yet another kiss to your forehead, pushing his feeling of pride and love to you through the force.

‘it was utterly perfect, darling,’ he hummed sweetly, before pulling you from his chest and reclaiming his lightsaber from your deadly, yet delicate hands. ‘i knew you would be a terrifying force to be reckoned with, but i didn’t know you would look so beautiful doing it.’

at that, your heart swelled with pride, a smile tugging at your lips and a blush rising to consume your cheeks and tips of your ears. obi-wan couldn’t help but smile down at you-- the warmth which radiated from your heart and your soul and into the force for him to perceive was too sweet not to.

‘oh, obi-wan,’ you sighed, ‘i don’t deserve your kind words.’

‘you deserve the universe and more,’ obi-wan cooed, his delicate touch finding its way to your heated cheek as he moved to cradle it in his large, gentle palm, heart melting as tears of pure happiness stung your eyes as you melted into his touch. ‘my high praise is the least you deserve.’

‘obi-wan, will you spend the night with me? or can i spend the night with you? i don’t believe i can bare to part with you right now.’

‘i wouldn’t miss the chance to be in your lovely presence for the whole corellian system, darling.’ obi-wan hummed, thumb tracing its familiar patterns once more.

‘obi-wan,’ his name was soft-barely a whisper- on our tongue as you said it: the name of the jedi master you loved so dearly. ‘must you make it so very unbearable to part from you every time the war leads you away from coruscant… away from me?’

obi-wan’s gaze softened into sadnesses he dropped his gaze to his hands as they moved to hold yours, to feel their softness once more. he knew you missed him when he had to leave on these missions and risk their unknown circumstances. he dreaded the moment when he finally boarded the transport, slipping out of your sight as you watched from some hidden place in the jedi temple or the senate buildings. he could feel the pain your heart brought you in those moments as it radiated through the force. he would do anything to kiss away the tears that would form in worry at the corners of your eyes, to comfort you in his warm embrace, to wrap you up in his cloak and hold you close for eternity.

but he couldn’t. the many walls of steel, glass and space that separated you from him were too great to physically abound. so instead he would send you a sweet message of comfort over your commlinks, and press his thoughts and feelings into the back of his mind, into the depths of his heart. he would miss you, but his feelings would always act as his motivation, and he would always come back to you. obi-wan had lost so many people in his own life. he would never willingly put you through that pain of losing him. so he would fight valiantly and efficiently, cutting down the enemy or gathering intel in the manner that would certainly return him to you in the quickest and safest manner possible.

‘i promise i don’t do it willingly, my sweet’ he sighed, his voice soft and as comforting as he possibly could--though you didn’t miss the note of sadness that lined the edges of his words. gently, his hands pulled you close to him, so that there was barely any space between the two of you. one left your grasp to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with great care and delicacy before resting his forehead against yours. your eyes fluttered shut in tandem with his, as to let the soft sensation of him so close to you overwhelm your senses.

and then his voice was warm and pleasant as it formed in your mind, as clear as your own.

i swear to you, my darling, for every time i leave you behind, i will always come back to you. i will not leave you alone in this galaxy by yourself. not ever.

your eyes fluttered open at the formation of the words, only to find his beautiful blue eyes staring sweetly into yours, into your heart.

‘and i’ll always be waiting for you upon your return, my love.’

‘i know, darling,’ he hummed graciously. ‘i know.’

and then, as the sun’s rays faded and the dark of night began to set in, in the safety and sanctuary of the verdant gardens about you, obi-wan kenobi kissed you, soft and sweet as his hands found the curvature of your cheek and the warmth of your body with his own. he kissed you, stardust dancing about your lips at his gentle caresses, in the safety of the gardens, where no one could separate you from him, where he could show you a small fraction of his love for you without the burden of the galaxy’s prying eyes.

‘what do you say i gather my things aboard the transport, and i’ll meet you in your chambers in, say-half an hour?’ he hummed, brownish auburn eyebrows tilting upwards as he gazed lovingly into your eyes, asking for your permission to occupy your time with his own sweet and lovely presence.

‘i’d like that very much,’ you smiled, revelling in the way a boyish grin covered his now slightly swollen lips. he parted from you to gather his robes hurriedly before returning to your side, to press three quick kisses, to your cheek, your forehead and, finally, your lips.

‘half an hour, then, my darling.’

and sure enough, there he was, standing in your doorway half an hour later, ready to scoop you up in his strong arms and spin you about with pure, love-filled elation. his lips would cover your face, your neck and collarbones, your shoulders-anywhere his lips could find the sweet pleasure of your soft exposed skin.

and for the rest of the night, he was yours-nuzzling his face into the comforts of your stomach as he cuddled into you, wrapping his arms around you in the most loving way, kissing you like you were the oxygen in his lungs, the blood in his veins, and the stardust which made up his being.

and when he left on the transport the next morning, your heart ached at the loving smile that pulled at his lips when his eyes met yours. and somehow you knew, all would be alright, that he would return to you in three-cycle’s time to kiss you and love you all over again.

i will come back to you, my lovely darling. i promise

[thebigqueer]

Solangelo - "Home" - One-Shot

Summary: It's Nico's birthday, and Will has a gift to give him.

Word Count: 1620

Read on AO3

“Nico, just trust me,” Will pleads. His fingers tug on Nico’s wrist, pulling him along urgently. Nico tries only his best to stop himself from being dragged.

“Will, I am promising you, if you force me to watch another Star Wars movie on my birthday, I will be murdering you in your sleep tonight.” Nico snatches his wrist back from Will and crosses his arms over his chest.

Will grins. “Don’t lie, you know you like to binge watch it with me. But no, that’s not what I’m leading you to.” He leans in and takes Nico’s hands in his, rubbing his knuckles. It’s been almost a month since they’ve been “together,” but even then Nico can’t help the electricity that ripples through him at even a simple touch from Will.

“Then what are you leading me to?”

Will pinches one of Nico’s fingers. “I think you’ll like it. It’s in my cabin.”

Nico winces, doubt creeping up onto his shoulders. More than once has Will told him the situation was important just to find out it had to do with Star Wars. “I don’t know, Will…”

“No, trust me. It’s your birthday, Nico. I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want.” He smiles softly and inclines his head. “I’ll force you to watch it with me tomorrow, though.”

Nico smiles and leans in a little. “I don’t hate Star Wars, just for the record.”

Will takes Nico’s hand again and leads him along, gliding his fingers over Nico’s wrist gently. A ripple of shock travels up his veins.

“I know, Nico. But I get it - maybe I can get a little obsessed.” A blush coats Will’s cheeks.

Dapples of sunlight dot the camp grounds as the boys move towards the cabins. Nico frowns at Will. “Yeah, but it’s okay. I’m not going to judge you. I had a Mythomagic thing. If it’s something you like, then I’m willing to do it with you.”

Will smiles. “Thanks, Nico. And I’m still ready to play ten hours of Mythomagic.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “I play one card game as an eleven-year-old and suddenly no one can get over it.”

The boys arrive at the Apollo cabin door, which gleams in the sunlight. As he pushes the door open, Will throws a careless grin over his shoulder. “Don’t pretend that I haven’t seen those cards in your cabin.”

Nico pushes a finger to his lips and looks around wildly. “Oh, gods, Will, don’t say it out loud. That’s our secret.”

Will throws his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay.”

Nico closes the door behind them and blinks. The shades are drawn in the cabin, filtering out any daylight. The cabin is empty of all its residents, which Nico finds quite strange - he’s only ever used to wild chatter and amusing arguments between the Apollo kids.

Will leads him through the shadows to his bed at a corner of the cabin. Large Star Wars-themed pillows line his bed and NASA posters flash around Will’s walls. Nico smiles at the scene; Will has always been obsessed with space, even when he was younger. As he got older, though, and realized he had a talent in healing - whether he wanted it or not - he started focusing less and less on the adventures and amazements of outer space. That loss of interest fills Nico’s heart with pity. He wishes Will would stop wanting to take care of everyone and just take a moment to think about himself and his own interests.

But Nico knows that’s hard for a medic. He has to be constantly on the lookout. Despite that, it’s obvious his medical career has had a negative impact on Will’s well-being. The amount of times Nico’s found him on the edge of a panic attack only emphasizes how much he needs to take care of himself.

Will reaches under his bed and pulls out a small brightly-colored packet, overflowing with equally-as-bright tissue paper. Nico takes it from his hands with a confused smile on his face. “You… got me something?”

Now it’s Will’s turn to look confused. “It’s your birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”

A hurricane of emotions swirl in Nico’s chest, almost throwing him off balance. It’s been so long since he’s properly celebrated his birthday, and even longer since he’s gotten a normal present (not like the chauffeur that Hades got him for his birthday the year before). There’s an innocence to it, a warm feeling at the fact that someone is willing to give him a present just because he was brought into the world. He didn’t care for his birthday after he lost Bianca, but knowing that Will got him something - and that some more friends are planning to celebrate his existence in the evening - suddenly makes him feel that maybe there is a purpose to life and living. It’s the happiness he’s found after all the sadness. The lovely people he’s going to meet. The changes that will happen.

Tears stab at his eyes, but he tries to blink them away. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I just… nevermind.” A wide smile flashes across his features. “What did you get me?”

Will pushes his hands to his cheeks and squishes his face in excitement. “You’ll see. I think you’ll like it. I thought I’d get you something that made you feel a little more at home. Something that might help you realize that Camp Half-Blood loves you.” He takes his hands away from his face and slips one into Nico’s fingers again. “I know you’ve had a bad experience here before, so I thought this could be, like… a symbolic gift. Kind of like a way for the camp to apologize for how it’s treated you in the past.” Will leans in a little, inclining his head low enough to almost touch Nico’s. “You deserve that.”

Nico’s heart swells, overflowing with appreciation for Will and his kindness. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just open the present.” Will balances himself over the edge of his bed and pats the mattress with his hand, inviting his boyfriend to sit by him.

Nico sinks into the bed and thrusts his hand into the packet, sifting away all the unnecessary tissue paper.

“What is it with you and tissue paper?” he complains. “You have an obsession.”

“Hey, stop. I take pride in my tissue paper.”

Nico gesutres to the rainbow colors. “I think you take the pride part a little too literally.”

“I can’t help that I’m homo.”

After a moment of groping around, Nico’s fingers graze upon soft fabric. He grasps the item and pulls it out of the mound of tissue paper, managing to throw at least half the pieces on the floor. Nico unfolds the item and braces himself for the reveal of it.

He holds it up and finds that it’s a black T-shirt. In white stitching, the words “CAMP HALF-BLOOD” roll across the chest, and a skeletal pegasus stands in the middle. Underneath the pegasus, the words “LONG ISLAND SOUND” jump out at Nico.

For a moment, he can’t understand why the shirt looks so familiar. Then he looks over at Will’s shirt, which is the standard CHB design, and it clicks in his mind. He blinks at Will. “You… got me a black CHB shirt?”

Will scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. I actually got Chiron’s help in making it. He gave me permission to create it for you.” He offers a wavering smile. “Do you like it? Be honest.”

Nico spreads the shirt over his lap and runs his fingers over the stitching. Every thread he crawls over ignites a spark through his body. His heart thrums with admiration for Will. He can’t remember the last time someone has done something so sweet for him.

The shirt was made specifically for him. To let him feel like he really had a home here, to let him feel like maybe he really did belong. Tears prick his eyes again, but this time he can’t push them back. One slips out and bursts onto the black fabric.

“Nico?” Will asks. “Are you okay?” He edges his fingers to Nico’s wrist.

Nico turns his eyes to Will’s, suddenly embarrassed. “Yeah,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… no one has done something this kind in a while. I…” His voice escapes him, floating out into the air around them, and another tear falls, then another, and another, until his face is red and blotchy and the glimmer of tear tracks flash in the darkness. He’s cracking from the inside, letting his truth spill out all over the place, making a mess over the floor.

Will’s eyes melt into clear water and he opens his arms. The tan of his skin glows in the darkness, and Nico only desires the warmth of him. He leans in and fills in the space of Will’s neck, finding solace in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m not sad. I really love it, Will. Thank you.”

“It’s not too weird?”

A small laugh bubbles out of Nico, falling over both him and Will. “No, I love it.” He stares up at Will’s blue eyes, entrapping them into his own dark ones, and a watery smile balances over his mouth. “Thank you so much.”

A blush crawls over Will’s face, sweeping over the freckled plains of his face. He smiles back and a new warmth crawls up Nico’s back. Will presses his cheek to Nico’s head and tightens his hold on his waist, applying a little pressure. Nico spills into the warmth of his arms. He feels at home in them.

“Happy birthday, Nico.”

[fruitcoops]

This technically isn’t a tik tok trend, but I can totally see Sirius putting up a compilation of clips of loops playing hockey, both on the arena, and in his private rink!! Maybe as a surprise, or an anniversary of some sort, or maybe simply because he loves him so much. I know this is very vague... sorry!! I love your writing, and hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night!!

This ask is awesome and not super vague at all! It’s a different format than usual, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Have a great day! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove!

Number One: Fastest Player on the Team

Two hockey players in gold and red tensed at a starting line, then took off in a flash when the whistle blew; within moments, the player on the left pulled ahead and zipped past the camera in a blur. He reached the finish line a full two seconds before his opponent and took his helmet off—Remus’ hair was damp with sweat, but his wicked smile as Finn collapsed dramatically on the ice showed no sign of exhaustion. “Hell yeah, baby!” someone shouted behind the phone.

 Number Two: Freckles

A slideshow of pictures started to play: Remus grinning at the camera, Remus stretched out on a beach towel, Remus fast asleep in an old Wisconsin sweatshirt with his face squished against a pillow. Most of the photos must have been taken in the summertime, because dark speckles cascaded across his cheeks, chest, and arms.

 Number Three: Bookworm

A still frame from their first Tiktok showed Remus holding an empty spoon and reading his book with a deep frown, then transitioned into a new video.

“Honey, did you walk the dog?” Sirius’ voice asked out of view. There was a murmured response. “Re?”

“In here.”

In the living room, Remus was sitting sideways in an armchair, hunched over a paperback like a gargoyle. “How long have you been there?”

“Shhh, I’m reading.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

 Number Four: Smart as Hell (Also a Nerd)

“—but it’s impossible,” Remus was saying to Pots, gesturing wildly. “That’s not how space works!”

“Are you an astronaut?” Pots countered.

“I don’t have to be an astronaut to know fire doesn’t ignite in a vacuum, James! If blasters existed—and they won’t until scientists figure out either cold fusion or miniature nuclear power, but that’s a different discussion—if blasters existed, and if one X-Wing shot an Empire ship in a weak spot, the Empire ship wouldn’t explode. Fires might start inside, but as soon as it was exposed to outer space all the oxygen would dissipate and it would just break apart, or maybe implode.”

“You two realize you’re debating the physics of a movie called Star Wars, right?” Lily asked drily.

“Yes,” the two men said in unison.

 Number Five: Best Dog Parent

Another photo compilation began, this time of Remus and Hattie. In the first one, he was cradling her like a baby while she slobbered on his chin; in the second, he was standing knee-deep in a small lake and calling to her. The final picture was one of Sirius’ favorites: Hattie was splayed on the living room floor in a ray of sunshine, passed out cold, while Remus curled protectively around her side as he slept.

 Number Six: Closet Romantic

“Hey, baby?” Remus asked as he walked into the kitchen, where Sirius was eating a sandwich and scrolling through Twitter.

“Mhmm?”

“Are you French?”

“Well, kind of—”

“Because Eiffel for you.”

A vivid blush crept up Sirius’ neck and he set his sandwich down, dropping his face into the crook of his elbow. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sirius laughed without looking up. “Nobody believes me when I say you’re sappy.”

“I know,” Remus said, sounding rather smug about it.

 Number Seven: Not a Morning Person

“Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” Sirius said gently behind the camera. His hand and forearm appeared as he shook Remus’ shoulder.

“Time is it?” Remus barely moved; outside, it was still dark.

“Uh, five thirty,” Sirius said around his smile.

“Fuck off.”

“Remus!”

“If this is for a prank, you’re sleeping on the couch,” he grumbled, turning over and pulling the covers back up around his shoulders.

“You don’t want to go on a hike with me?”

“Ask again at eight or take the dog with you. Your choice.”

 Number Eight: The Laugh

A series of short clips played, each of Remus laughing. Some had Sirius in them, and each time the quick down-up of laughter happened, a dopey smile spread across his face.

 Number Nine: You’re Competitive...

Remus sped down the ice at breakneck speed and slammed into an opposing player, stealing the puck away and turning hard to pass it to Sirius. His eyes flashed as the camera zoomed in and the commentators went wild.

The next video showed him at practice, clicking the puck through cones so fast it became a blur of black until it flew into the goal at the end of the drill. “Beat that, Talker,” he called as Thomas Walker skated into the starting position. Talker mumbled something under his breath and Remus smirked.

The final clip was from the gym, where he and Logan were locked in a competition. “Put more weight on,” Logan panted to Leo, rising from yet another squat with a wince. “I can’t lose to the fuckin’ PT.”

“You can and you will,” Remus shot back as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and began a new set of squats. “Try me, Tremzy.”

 Number Nine Point Five: …And a Willing Participant in Pointless Competitions

“Hey, how fast do you think we can ride these carts down the aisle?” Pots asked. Lily’s phone camera was clear enough to capture the look he, Sirius, and Remus shared.

Sirius grabbed another shopping cart. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“We’ll race to the strip of black tiles there at the end,” Remus said, sending Lily a quick grin. “Winner gets to ride in the basket for the rest of the trip.”

 Number Ten: You Chose Me

Only one picture faded in this time. Sirius was beaming at the camera while Remus kissed his cheek, both still sweaty from practice and glowing like they had been lit up from the inside. On Sirius’ left hand, a simple gold-and-silver ring wrapped around his finger.

 New words appeared on the screen in the same script as the numbering and titles. There are a million more things I could add to this list—your sarcasm, your singing, your mischief, your big heart—because I love everything about you, and I can’t wait until we’re married. Happy anniversary, mon loup!

[riotfuckery]

Evening Delight

Kirishima Eijiro x f! Reader

A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! Yes this is a full blown smut fic cause I decided I wanted to try it. I’m sorry for not being on a lot, things have been rough for me personally so here’s another dirty piece for y’all. Here we have a purely indulgent Kirishima smut because I love me a himbo! Anyways please enjoy!

Warnings: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP 21+! PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR! Badly written smut, vaginal penetration, squirting, pussy eating, slight dirty talk, choking, creampie, overstimulation, praise kink kinda, bad attempt at aftercare.

Taglist: @thedreadthreadanomaly @trafalgar-temptress @lovelustdollsworld @obsessedchildsworld and special shoutout to @koi-has-joy for proofreading it and helping me with the ending! I love you bby! 💖

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Music echoed off the bathroom walls as you scrubbed yourself. The smell of flowers and vanilla wafting the steamy space while you hummed along to the song. Taking a 2nd shower after work was a daily thing for you, hero work was messy after all. Dirt, slime, and other strange substances left you feeling dirty even after a scrub in the showers at the agency.

After washing off the rest of the good smelling bubbles, you stepped out of the stall and wrapped your towel around yourself happily. Hot showers always worked wonders on your tired muscles. Retrieving your phone, you placed it on the counter before applying your skincare and deodorant. Now it was time to blow dry.

Once you finished blow drying your clean hair, you stepped out into you and Eijiro’s shared bedroom and padded over to the dresser. Picking out a set of all black thigh highs, black comfy shorts, and a red riot crop top and sliding them on as your long time boyfriend was coming through the door.

“Princess? Where are you? I’m home and I haven’t gotten my kiss yet.” He pouted. You giggled loudly from the bedroom and you smiled as soon as you heard his heavy footsteps stop at the door.

“Come here and get your kiss, ya big puppy!” You turned and smiled at him, taking long strides before placing your hands on his pecs while standing up on your tippy toes to give him a sweet kiss.

But he wasn’t done yet, as cute and lovable as Kirishima Eijiro was, he was also an insatiable beast. Large hands took a firm hold of your hips while the sweet kiss turned heated, pulling your body closer to his as you slid your hands up to rest on his broad shoulders while you kissed him back just as passionately.

“Already Ei? You just got home, honey. Why don’t you get changed first?” You asked breathlessly when you pulled back for air. It was easy for him to turn you on, I mean look at him. 7ft tall and built like a brick house, thick corded muscles framing his beautifully tanned body that was littered with freckles and small scars like a greek god.

“Mmmmm well when my girl wears that cute little get up, I can’t help but get excited.” He grinned slyly. He wasn’t wrong either, the way the thigh highs and shorts excited your plush ass and thighs had him rock hard from the sight.

He slid one hand from your hips to grab a large handful of your ass while the other hand went straight to your shorts to rub your clit through the thin material. You bit your lip at the feeling, his middle and ring fingers rubbing small circles on your covered bud as electricity woke up your nerves.

He groaned at the wet spot on the fabric, his heavy cock straining in this costume pants even more. “Fuuuuck you’re already so wet for me princess” he purred, the rumbling in his chest reverberating in your fingertips. “You wanna have some fun?” He asked cheekily, a sly wink thrown in that made your cheeks heat up.

“Yes please.” you shyly said, looking up at him with your lust blown eyes. But another reason why you two were such a good match, you were both insatiable for each other.

“God you’re so cute.” he whispered as he used the hand that was on your ass to grab your chin and bring you in for another breath stealing kiss. And breath stealing it was. His skilled lips meshing with yours perfectly while he dominated your mouth again.

He walked you backwards till your knees hit the bed forcing you to land your butt on it with a giggle. He smiled at the charming sound, getting on his knees in front of you so he could kiss you again.

Rough calloused hands took a hold of your shorts and underwear to slide them off slowly as he kissed you, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Red eyes looked up into yours, much like the smoldering embers of a flame. They were warm and comforting, but a little gasoline and you have a raging inferno.

“You’re so beautiful sweetheart, do me a favor and take the top off while I make you feel good. Is that okay?” He asked, ever the gentleman he was. Consent was really Kiri’s number 1 concern, he never made you do anything you didn’t want to and was never mad if you needed a break.

He didn’t wait to dig in, arms immediately circling around your thighs to place them on his sturdy shoulders as he buried his face in your slit while you pulled off your shirt and threw it to the side. His hot tongue traced circles around your sensitive pearl, giving it kitten licks to test the waters as you moaned out at the feeling of his sinful mouth on your cunt.

“You’re so tasty princess, damn I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned before immediately shoving his hot tongue in your velvet walls to get a better taste.

“Fuuuuuck baby that feels so fucking good.” you mewled, your hand tangled into the thick mane of wild red head hair kept him steady as you ground your cunt against his face.

The lewd sounds of sucking and slurping filled the room, making your cheeks red as the feeling of your impending orgasm creeped up on you. He unlooped his arms from your thighs, reaching around to grab handfuls of your plush ass on his hands and squeeze.

With that, the beast of a man stood up with you on his shoulders as he continued to eat you like you were his last meal. You squeaked at the sudden movement, walls clamping down on his tongue. The display of strength made you full body shiver as he continued his magic, eyes closed as he moved his mouth to gently nip and suck at your clit.

“I can feel you getting close baby but not yet oh no.” he started, red eyes looking up at you while you whined at the feeling of him stopping, you were so close to orgasming.

“I want you to cum on my cock while I fuck your pretty little cunt, does that sound good sweetheart?” He asked between giving kisses to your twitching clit.

“Y-yes please, please make me cum so hard that I see stars.” you begged cutely, in just the way he liked as you looked back at him with those pleading eyes. You were so close and this fucking tease just had to stop.

“Awe there’s my good girl.” he smiled, the smile so innocent that it seemed out of place yet so fucking sexy.

You didn’t have time to process the praise before you were dropped onto the bed. Landing on your back, it took you a second to adjust before Eijiro crawled on the bed and tugged you by the ankle to bring your body closer to his.

“I love it when you manhandle me.” you purred, eyes half lidded at how aggressive he was being.

“Is that so baby?” He asked huskily as he crawled his way up to your body to give you another kiss.

The kiss you shared is messy and sloppy but just equally as sweet, tongues wresting as you trailed your hands down his body to fumble with his belt for a second before pulling his cock out of his costume pants.

You pulled back from the kiss for much needed air, your hand stroking his cock as he looked at you with blown out eyes. He moaned at the stimulation, hips slightly thrusting into your hand as he leaned forward to nip at your neck.

The feeling of his teeth on your neck was immaculate, light nibbles and bites timed just right as you felt his cock twitch in your fist. He pulled back from your body, a large hand covering yours to stop your movements while he smirked at you.

“What a naughty girl, trying to turn the tables on me.” he chastised, making your eyes go wide at the authority in his voice.

“I’m in charge tonight so be a good girl and lay back.” He commanded, eyes dark when his other hand trailed up your body to grab your neck and squeeze lightly.

“Y-yes sir.” you stuttered out, the tone of his voice and the pressure on your neck flooding your body with a fuzzy feeling as you laid back and watched him take off his costume.

“Now where were we?” He playfully asked once his gear was gone, once again crawling his way up the bed to your body where his large hands took a hold of your thighs and spread them open.

Your teeth found it’s way to bite your lip at sight of his forearms flexing while doing such a simple move. Red eyes immediately trailed down your body where they stopped at the sight of your spit and juice covered slit.

“Fuck you look so sexy little one, all messy and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He purred in your ear, leaning over and using one hand to support himself and the other to tease the length of your pussy with his cockhead. You wrapped your arms around him, your nails already biting into his skin at his seductive voice so close to you.

You mewled at the feeling of his cock teasing you, overstimulated clit twitching in anticipation. He placed a kiss below your ear before sliding in, a deep rumble in his chest as you moaned at the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out.

“Fuuuuck baby you feel so fucking good” he growled, immediately setting a bruising pace with his hips. The thing was about Eijiro, his dick was so thick and long that he was hitting your cervix with no problem.

It wasn’t really long before you came for the first time that day, the built up pressure of your last denied orgasm coming back with a vengeance when he angled his hips slightly so his cock hits your Gspot over and over again.

“You like that little one? You like it when I pound your cute lil cunt?” He growled, lips honing in on your sweet spot while he sucked a mark on your neck.

The coil in your gut was winding tighter and tighter, your eyes rolled back and tongue lolled out as you moaned out at his filthy words.

“Shit! I’m c-cumming!~” you moaned lewdly, nails digging into his back muscles and legs locking around his narrow yet muscular waist to bring him closer to you.

He groaned at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him, hips slowing their fast and rough pace for a moment to help you gently ride out your orgasm with slow thrusts.

“Hmmm that was cute face you made princess, let’s see if we can get you to make it again~” he cheekily winked before bringing you in for a kiss, resuming his rough and fast pace which immediately set your nerves on fire.

You barely had time to register the meaning of his words when you felt his lips on yours, messily kissing back when one of his hands wrapped around your throat for the second time that night.

The steady but light pressure sent your head to the cloud nine when he continued to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing through your ears as your heart started to race.

“You like it when I choke you baby? I bet you fuckin do with that lewd looks of yours. I’ll wreck that cute pussy of yours, paint you in my fucking colors as I claim you.” He hissed, the hold on your neck tightening while his thrusts got sloppier.

You could only whine out in ecstasy, tongue lolled out in while you panted. With a twitch of his cock, you could tell he was close.

Kiri could feel is own orgasm approaching, breath coming out in hot puffs of his kiss swollen lips before clenching his jaw. Your tight and wet walls were clamping down his thick cock, the fluttering of your muscles telling him you were just as close as he is.

He activated his quirk on his hand that shot straight down to your clit and started rubbing messy circles on it. The ridges on his quirk activated hands adding more stimulation to your already abused pearl. “Cum for me baby, be a good girl for me and cum on my cock.” He choked out, thrusts getting sloppy and more frantic to chase your shared release.

“C-cumming!” You was all you managed to squeak out, his filthy words and stimulation on your clit being the last thing you needed before cumming. Stars flashed in your vision as you came, feeling your soul leave your body for a moment as the knot snapped finally.

“Fuuuuuck, that’s so hot princess.” He groaned, hips stuttering at the vice grip you had on his cock. The overwhelming stimulation spilled over in the form of clear juice spraying from your abused cunt, soaking the bedsheets and his muscular thighs while he painted your inner walls white.

He released the grip he had on your neck, instead to gently grab your face and give you a sweet kiss. Even while still lost in the afterglow of a mind blowing orgasm, he still managed to find a way to be the sweetest man ever.

“You okay baby?” He asked while he pulled on a fresh pair of underwear while you laid there panting, mind still fuzzy and legs twitching from the mind blowing multiple orgasms he gave you. You nodded with a contented smile, all the tiredness from today and your fun escapade with your boyfriend hitting at once.

“Lets get you cleaned up princess.” he spoke softly as he bridal carried your tired body to the bathroom and started to run a hot bath for you.

The day ended with a relaxing soak in the tub while he changed the sheets and threw the dirty ones in the wash before joining you. He cleaned you up gently, rewashing your body like you were made of porcelain.

After a short nap and some delivery, you ended the night cuddling and watching TV until you both fell asleep.

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[lilravenswritings]

Waves of my Heart

A commission I did for the wonderful @witchesconstellation <3

Thank you so much for letting me work with your ocs and give them the honeymoon they deserve!

Oc: Keira Shepard (Merit), Jules Merit

A day at the beach

2k Words

********

Beautiful scarlet strands floated in the air behind the pale woman running along the sand, her laughter a melody of music Jules never wanted to live without again. The sound of the crashing waves beside them deafening, splashing tiny droplets of water onto their feet.

Jules ran after his wife, his joy palpable, overwhelming. To be with her at this moment, knowing they had each other for the rest of their lives, everything felt right in the world.

The sun had just begun it’s descent towards the horizon, bringing with it a light breeze. Keira’s black cover up danced with the wind.

Catching up to her easily, he lifted her, spinning around dramatically. Keira squealed, clutching tight to his shoulders. Feet safely planted back on the ground, she pressed her lips against his gently.

This kiss was no different from the others before it, a fire melting ice, an earthquake cracking a foundation, a firework lighting the night sky. Jules could feel how much his wife loved him whenever they joined like this; she put her whole weight behind it, cupping the back of his neck like she never wanted to be apart.

“You were right,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. A questioning hum vibrated through her, eyes shut. “The beach is definitely the best place to spend our honeymoon.”

Her cheeky grin could have lit up a thousand night skies. “I told you so.” They pulled apart, her melted chocolate eyes searching him, amused.

I don’t deserve her. The knowledge crashed through him every time they shared a tender moment. He watched as her love twisted to sorrow.

“Don’t do that,” she chastised. Her hand cupped his cheek, and he nuzzled into it. “Jules, there is nobody in the world I would rather be with. You are everything to me, don’t let your doubt get in the way of that.”

It wasn’t the first time they’d had that conversation; she’d always find a way to let him know. Still, the little voice in his head never stopped trying to bring him down. “I know.”

Another chaste kiss, a tug of his hand, and Keira was able to, mostly, dispel the thoughts. She chatted animatedly about the wedding, all the cards they had gotten, and how sweet they all were. How it was so very lovely to see their families together at the reception.

She described how it felt to walk down the aisle and see him standing there, handsome in his suit and tie. How emotional it made her to know they were seconds away from belonging to each other. How their first dance made her feel, and how the song they danced to would always be her favorite for the rest of eternity.

A deep flush colored her cheeks, making her light freckles stand out. Their hands stayed connected throughout the walk back to their belongings; Jules kissed the top of hers every so often. She couldn’t hide her shy smile whenever he did, biting her lip and looking at the sand at their feet.

“I love you, Jules.” He startled at the words, having been deep in thought. She didn’t look at him to know he had heard her. It was just something she knew he knew, never even questioning whether it was obvious or not.

Keira loved him, and she was his Mrs. Merit. He beamed, pulling her close to wrap and arm around her shoulder. “I love you, my wife.”

She kissed his chest, warmth spreading through him at the action. “Let’s go swimming?” She suggested, turning them towards the water before the question had even been fully revealed. He followed obediently; why would he ever say no?

Water splashed everywhere as she lunged in, instantly diving beneath the water. Juled meandered in after her, moving much, much slower to adjust to the cooler temperature. Keira scoffed, throwing water at him playfully. His eyes went wide, he stumbled backwards. “Hey-!”

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s not that bad! Get in here,” she laughed, hitting the water at him again.

A sound of disbelief flowed off of him. Oh, you’re in for it now.” Keira squealed as he dove into her, tackling her under the water. She sputtered when they came back up, Jules’ arms wrapped around hers. Water dripped from their hair into their lashes.

They both cackled, peppered kisses shared between them before Keira puledl him back into the water. Using her feet to kick off of him, she had hoped for a quick getaway.

He caught hold of her foot last minute, tugging her back. He lifted her into the air, goosebumps rising along their skin as the air hit them. She giggled, struggling to loose his grip. “Jules, I’m cold. Come on, let me go!”

“Oh, you’re cold? Here, let me help you with that.”

Understanding immediately, Keira squirmed roughly. “No, no don’t you-” He let her go, tossing her into the water kicking and screaming. A loud gasp echoed around them as she emerged, amusement tickling her voice when she shouted: “Jules!”

“What?” He mocked with a grin. “You said you were cold.” She kicked water at him again.

Later, as Keira laid with her back pressed against Jules on their beach chair, they watched as the sky bled from blue to yellow, to orange, to purple, eventually turning into the black of night; stars shone bright without the lights of the city to dull their glow.

“Look!” Keira shouted, pointing up. “A shooting star! Quick, make a wish.”

Jules placed a kiss on her temple. “Everything I could ever want and more is right here beside me.”

He could just imagine the blush spreading across her cheeks as she swatted him. “That was so cheesy.” He chuckled, brushing his lips over her freckled shoulder. “I wish to always be this happy with you.”

A satisfied sigh of agreement grazed over her. “You’re right, I wish for that too.” His voice turned soft, quiet, like he didn’t want to disturb the moment. “And that was way cheesier than mine.”

“Not even close!” She scoffed. Then, turning so she could get a good look at him, she asked: “Do you want kids?”

Chewing his lip in thought, he pondered this. Did he want kids? He could picture them, sure. A little girl with Keira’s bright red hair and freckles swinging back and forth on a little playset in their backyard, eyes as blue as his pinched in joy. A brown headed little boy teetering down the stairs to run into Jules’ arms. A ghost of a smile danced over his lips. “With you? Yeah, I’d have them all.”

Her answering grin turned his limbs to mush. “I think we should get a dog too. Maybe a beagle? Although a fish might be the best thing for the kids for the first couple of years.”

“Woah, woah. Slow down there, we just got married. Let’s finish our honeymoon first, yeah?”

Her laugh was girlish and teasing all at the same time. “I know, I was just messing with you.” She paused, eyes drifting over his shoulder in thought. “Although, I would like to know where you see us living in a few years.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, eyes catching on her full lips. “I think a nice ranch style home, with a big fenced in yard for the kids to run around in. A big enough porch for us to sit on one of those swings and watch them, maybe even go out at night to look at the stars. A flower bed on both sides of the steps. No rose bushes, though. I don’t want the kids to get pricked. Maybe some trees in the yard, and a hammock.”

She pushed at his shoulder playfully. “Hey, slow down. We just got married.” Her brown eyes glinted, mischievous but oh so soft at the thought of their future together. His arms tightened around her. He snuggled into her neck, breathing in the soothing scent of coconut mixed with salt from the ocean.

“You’re right, but I can’t help it. I look at you and imagine it all. Imagine our house, our yard, our kids. I think about the adventures we’re going to have, all the places I want to see with you by my side. I think about the mundane things, like cooking you breakfast on Mother’s Day, dancing with you in the kitchen after we’ve put the kids to bed, helping you do laundry even though you know I like my pants folded a certain way.”

She cleared her throat; Jules knew she was holding back tears. “And yet a pet is too much to handle?”

He snorted. “I’m thinking about our kids! Who knows if they’re going to be allergic, or if they’re even going to like the fish. And a beagle? Kind of small, don’t you think? How about something bigger, like a german shepherd-”

“Oh, nice-”

“-or even a husky? A dog to protect the home if I’m away,” he continued, speaking over her remark.

Keira pursed her lips in thought. “I guess we could get a german shepherd and name him Shepard, like my last name.”

“You’re old name,” Jules corrected.

A rush of air came out her nose; laughter. “My old name,” she conceded. She kissed his nose, nuzzled it with hers. “Let’s go down to the water and try to build sandcastles.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Right now? It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“Exactly! How many people can say that they’ve built sandcastles on the beach at night?” Before Jules could even think to respond, she remarked: “Not a whole lot of people, that’s who.” Her head bobbed in triumph, confident in her decision. How could he ever tell her no?

They walked across the sand, so much cooler now that the sun had been down for hours. The wind held a little more bite. A shiver ran down Jules’ spine.

“That one should go here,” Keira ordered after they had settled in their spot, plopping down a lump of wet sand on the spot she had picked out. “That will be the guard tower. And here, this will be the barracks. Oh, and we can’t forget the moat, who’d have a castle without a moat? That’s just idiotic.”

He’d never get used to the way his heart would swell over these simple moments. How, during even the most mundane of tasks, just being near her, hearing her talk, he’d instantly think I love you, I will never stop loving you, you have my heart.

“Okay! I think we’re ready for the flag now, don’t you my love?”

Swallowing, he put the fabric into her open palm. “Absolutely.” His voice sounded hoarse. She proudly placed it on top, standing to see the finished product. The castle looked… Horrible, if Jules had to be honest. Multiple places were already falling in on itself, the water from the moat overflowing and collapsing it from the bottom.

He’d never tell her though, especially as she pouted and looked to him for comfort. He pulled her into his embrace, instead looking over the beautiful ocean view.

“Look love, you can see the moonlight reflected on the water like it’s right here for us to touch.” He let his fingers drag across the skin along her spine. “I never thought about the fact that you’d be able to see the stars in the water as well.”

“Huh, I don’t think I ever have either.” She hummed, impressed by the revelation. It was one of the many things he loved about her, the way she was always eager and willing to learn anything she possibly could. She drank in information faster than a dehydrated animal, and it was never enough.

Clouds were slowly starting to form in the sky, crossing over the moon to leave them in total darkness for longer than a few seconds. “I think… We should probably get back to the hotel,” he offered, head tilting.

His wife sighed, “I guess we should.” His attention turned to her, inquisitive. She rushed on. “I’m not ready to go home yet. I want to stay on this vacation for the rest of our lives.”

“I want that too,” he whispered. “But we are needed back home. Besides, if we stay here, who will take care of our children? We can’t just leave them with the dog every day.”

She laughed hard, lightly bumping his shoulder with her head. Oh, shut it.”

His grin was infectious. “Never. You’re stuck with me, Keira Merit.”

[spaced0lphin]

Counting Stars

“Bailie is determined to count Jeff’s freckles.” - @virusq

This takes place post-TBMS, after the events of ME2 and before ME3.

The evening was blue with twilight. Humidity and the whine of cicadas spilled into the kitchen through the open patio door. Shepard was still out there, leaning on her arms and staring into the black pines. The opened letter on the table turned his stomach. An Alliance insignia showed through the envelope. In disgust, he turned it over face down. This was the thanks she got for spearheading the operation to save the known galaxy; a warning. The message was simple: Either show up in court voluntarily in a week, or be dragged there.

Joker's own eyes looked back at him, his image caught in the glass door. It felt weird, but also good to be out of Cerberus fatigues. Sometimes it seemed like his reflection looked a little wrong without them, but he remembered feeling like that after putting away his Alliance blues for the last time, too. 

A bizarre, almost musical croaking from outside caught his attention. It wasn't familiar - but Shepard, in all her stormy silence, didn't seem bothered by it. Dusk was settling fast. It was weird, this place. It was some little house on the far outskirts of the city Shepard grew up in. The warm, familiar rumble of the engine was traded in for wind in the trees, birdsong in the day, and whatever spooky noises the damn woods conjured up at night. Joker did not like the woods. Being so close to so many trees, all growing at once in strange, chaotic angles - it was unnatural. It and the nearby ocean smelled nice, though.

His Omnitool glowed, displaying the time. Two hours ago, she'd opened the mail and stormed outside. He picked up the offending letter and slid off the chair, putting the paper out of sight. This whole house in a familiar place thing was meant to be a break, a reminder for Shepard of what she was fighting for. Instead, all she'd found was this insult. He thought about hurling it in the garbage. It just wasn't fair.

The curious sound came again, this time from somewhere a little closer. Shepard hadn't moved an inch, nor noticed his approach. Not even the rap of his knuckle against the glass door, half-open to where she'd flung it a couple hours earlier could steal her focus.

He cleared his throat. "Hey," he said gently. "What was that sound just now?"

At the sound of his voice, she lifted her head as if snapped out of a spell. Her eyes were red and she sniffed. She'd been crying. A pang of guilt shot through his chest. He should have known. All this time he was sat twiddling his thumbs at the table like an idiot waiting for orders, she was out here, crying her eyes out with only the trees and mosquitoes for company. He slid the patio door closed behind him and leaned on the bannister with her.

"Uh, noise?" she asked, her voice thick. "Just now?"

"Yeah. It sounded like… uh." He screwed up his throat. "G-Ghauck," he tried. She recoiled, making such a face at the awful sound coming out of him he couldn't help but laugh. To his relief, she cracked a small smile, too. "No, no, wait, wait, hold on…" He did his best mimicry of the odd call. "Ghaaaawk. Like that."

"That's a raven," she answered, wiping at her eyes. "I think your first try was maybe a raven getting eaten by something."

"Heh. Maybe, I mean I don't know what's out there in… in that," he said, gesturing to the deep blackness in front of them. The little yellow light covered in bouncing moths could only do so much to illuminate even the first layer of branches. "It's so much worse than space," he grumbled. "At least you can see in space. Here there's things. So many things, and they all run and swim and bite, and… fly." He paused. Shepard wasn't looking at him - but up, at the sky. She tapped her Omnitool briefly, then all the lights went out.

They waited for their eyes to adjust. Stars separated out from the blueish darkness above. They looked so different beneath miles of atmosphere. Little swirling black dots blotted a couple of them out in patterns as tons of bugs did their crazy dance high above.

"You've never heard a raven before?" she asked with another sniffle, the sound a little loud in the darkness. He thought about her voice, and all the times he'd heard her be strong. In the course of everything, she’d yelled, commanded, screamed for her life, even laughed in the face of death. But never, never ever once that he knew of, had she actually cried.

"No, I guess not," he said. In the gloom, Shepard's shape started to materialise. She had her face tipped up towards the half moon, eyes closed against its light. He wondered at what she must be thinking. He couldn't imagine why she hadn't ordered a shuttle to Vancouver five minutes ago. How seeing that letter waiting for her hadn't sent her direct to HQ to scream in their faces about their ignorance and injustice. His own rage about it boiled hot in the back of his mind like the surface of a star. It didn't take much to picture himself cracking a rib telling them where to shove their trial. How dare they threaten her after everything? Where were they all this time to demand accountability now? Suddenly, he understood why she had been staring into those dark trees.

As she let out long breath after long breath through her nose, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Shepard wasn't on a shuttle right now doing those things, because Shepard had run out of fight. She had nothing left. She had given them everything already, and still they wanted more. They wanted her freedom. He knew that feeling, and in answer to it his throat grew tight.

"Hey," he said, nudging her arm gently.

She opened her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jeff. You were saying. Did you need something?"

"…C'mere." He pulled her close, tucking her head to his chest. She was silent. Her back shuddered a little, so he enclosed her in his arms as best he could. He kissed and stroked her short clipped hair. She carried the scent of vanilla, the sea breeze and everything good about the galaxy.

Shepard broke like glass. The sound of her wordless sob made his throat knot up so bad it was almost hard to swallow. Everything she went through, he was right there with her. Physically in only a few cases, but always in her helmet. Every hard decision and breath held in hesitation was a memory he shared, too. His way of dealing with it all was not to think about it most of the time. Always, he tried to focus on the next thing, and to give her someplace else to be when she was with him. But as her tears seeped through onto his skin, he knew she didn’t have that luxury anymore. He wanted to tell her it was okay, except it wasn’t okay, not at all. He didn’t dare shush her, the last thing she needed was to be told to shove it all back down inside herself.

After a little while, it felt right to sway, like when he was held once himself, a long time ago. Eventually, her halting breaths steadied, and tears slowly stopped spreading the wet patch on his shirt. He lost track of how long they stayed like that. He would have stayed the whole night like that if he could, but his left thigh trembled. Always the weaker of the two, his left had more extensive work done to the weak bones, and the muscles fatigued quicker. Just balancing on one wasn't an option.

"Mm, yanno, I didn't realise the fact I never heard a raven before would upset you so much," he whispered in her ear as he rubbed at a knot between her shoulders. She shook again, and Joker's heart sank to the pit of his stomach. But a second or so later, her quiet laughter made him sigh with relief. "Yeah… Okay. Hey, I need to get off my feet."

Her fingers curled around his as she followed him back inside. There was some long couch thing in the obscenely picturesque living room, and that would do just fine. He moved several of the fifteen cushions people always fill couches up with onto the floor and eased himself down, gingerly putting pressure on the twitching muscle. She reached over and pressed at it too. He kept waiting for her to speak, to address what just happened somehow, but kneading the muscle in silence was all she would do. 

“Been a while since you shaved your head,” he said, running his fingers through the fine growth. “You growing it out?”

She smiled and scratched his chin pleasantly through his beard. “The reason I left flight school used to have a thing for long hair,” she said quietly. “I’ve kept it shaved ever since.” 

“Oh. Right.” He took a second to admire the half-inch of rich chestnut brown. “Hey, only grow it out if you want to. Y’know, luscious vid-star locks or not, doesn’t matter to me.”

The weight of her head lay against his shoulder. “I think it’s time.”

“Because that doesn’t sound ominous.”

She smiled softly. Even red eyed, pale-faced, and her face wet with tears, Shepard was always beautiful. Dabbing at her eyes again with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she said, “I shaved it all off the same day I left flight school. It was… kind of a statement, back then.”

“Well. Whatever statement you’re making now, I’m listening,” he said. Her green eyes flicked from point to point, studying him. “Ah heh,” he added with a grin, “That sounded a lot less serious in my head. You know something I’ve always wanted to do, though?”

“What’s that?”

“This,” he said, and traced from her forehead down her cheek, as if tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her arms slid around him. She sniffled, then grinned wide, in that way she always did before saying something stupid. “You say you don’t mind my hairstyle choices, but I’d dump you if you shaved.”

He laughed. “Listen, I’d dump me if I shaved.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I don’t actually have this killer jawline, it’s all just sculpted hair. I look like a yahg under this.”

She kissed his cheek. “You know, I’d never seen you in actual sunlight before today.”

“O-kay…? You say that as if I look different?”

“No, but stark light shows details, and I noticed something I never did before,” she said as she took his arm into her lap. “You’re covered in all these light freckles. The light from the displays washes them out and I’ve only ever seen you in dim light.”

“Uh… huh,” he puzzled. “There was that time your leg was all busted up and I took you to a café.”

“Yeah, but even in the day, the Citadel looks very different from Earth. Anyways. It reminded me of something from when I was very little.” Shepard turned his hand over and began drawing ticklish little circles in his palm. “My grandmother was a pretty interesting woman, from what I remember. She used to tell me that freckles were a kind of map,” she explained, squinting down at his skin in the darkness of the room. “She said they are a star chart, and they show a snapshot of the universe where a person’s soul was born.”

Joker lay his head back. Shepard’s little piecemeal memories of her family were always interesting, but very often bittersweet. If it had been anyone else’s anecdote, he might have made some kind of crack about such a sentimental idea, but as she curled up to his side, he couldn’t bring himself to wreck it for her.

“Well, let’s think,” he said. “I got a billion of these, all over, so clearly I’m from somewhere near Sagittarius. What about you, though?” It was hard to see much, but her skin tone looked smooth as ever. “I don’t think you have very many.”

“No. Just a handful, here and there. I remember wishing for a million of them, just like she had.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna give me a cavity,” he groaned. “Little baby Bailie at like five years old asking her gramma how to grow stars on her or something. It belongs in a cartoon.”

“Hard to tell, but I think you’ve got about sixty-seven right here… I need better light.”

“You’re… counting them?”

“I am,” she said. “It could be fun.”

“You have a weird idea of fun,” he said, shaking his head. 

Her lips travelled up his arm, from his wrist to his shoulder. “Do I? I think our sensibilities might be closer than you think…” “Oh?” “I’ve been thinking.” “That usually ends in explosions somehow,” he said. She smiled softly. “I think... I want to spend these next six days finding out where you’re from.”

“How are you gonna do that by just counting ‘em?”

“Oh, Jeff. Don’t bring logic into this. Just go with it.”

“No I mean, wouldn’t you wanna cross-reference them with known star charts? I bet EDI could do that. Maybe she’d burn out a processor… Y’know, you might actually be right, that does sound kinda fun,” he said with a snicker.

“I don’t need to do that. I can use the star charts up here,” she said as she tapped her head. “See this little arrangement? Looks like the Five Sisters in the Aurean Expanse, kind of…”

“Wait, what? Really?” he asked. His forearm looked the same as it always did. Maybe there were five darker spots among them, but it was dubious at best.

“Oh, definitely,” she replied, never breaking his gaze as she kissed the spot.

“Pfft,” he said, before recognising the glint in her eye. “Oh. I mean, uh. Yeah, interesting. Y’know, with this first pass at it, maybe just take a look, and uh… mark anything you recognise? To look at. Again. Later.”

She moved fast when she needed a distraction. Her chilly fingers made him shiver in the best way as she slipped her hands up his shirt. He followed her lead and just lay back. Of all the stars to be counted, he figured he had a few lucky ones, himself.  

[aizawaorkuroo]

on the house (chapter 6) - coffee milk tea (with boba!)

Ship: Yagi Toshinori x reader

Rated: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: You see Toshinori three times before he has to stop hiding.

Warnings: Language

AN: Sorry for the delay!! i like lost all motivation to write but i got it done! This chapter reads as a series of vignettes lowkey like at each line break. Let me know what y’all think 🥺💖 Also coffee milk tea is also called yuenyeung and it fucking slaps gerfwas

OTH Masterlist

_________

Toshinori texts you religiously after that weekend. A sprinkling of messages throughout the day that make butterflies swarm in your stomach. They start off in the morning when you’re already working at Sweet Bean.

It’s always something simple like Have a good day! :-) or Good Morning! But nonetheless, his messages always stirred up warm feelings.

It always makes you smile, which Aiko takes full advantage of. The teasing you got when you saw her was merciless. The number of jokes centered around “you’re absolutely glowing” astounded you. If she wasn’t such a valuable employee or a good friend, you would’ve thought about sending her home.

Yamada outright teases you, much to your horror. He’s relentless, maybe even worse than Aiko. But it’s Aizawa’s knowing grins that make your stomach flip. But when Toshinori messages you, the growing waves of affection confirm that you would put up with all the teasing and giggling in the world for a chance to have something real with him.

The days slip into something warmer and longer, the air becoming sticky and thick with rising heat. You can’t help but breathe a little easier in the summer. It’s especially nice whenever students come in while they’re on break. They bring a sense of life and youthfulness that warms your heart.

The group of girls Sato brought are back again, lounging around a table. They have stopped by a few times since then, and it’s been nice, watching them study, gossip, and celebrate the end of the term. This time, they’re joined by two other girls, and you can’t help but smile.

“Boss, stop being weird,” Aiko whines from next to you. You roll your eyes, tearing your gaze away from the group of girls to your bubbly employee.

“Don’t you have a summer class you need to be getting to?” you ask bluntly. Aiko’s mouth twists as she’s about to volley back another teasing remark before she freezes. Her eyes widen as she processes what you said.

“Oh shit!”

Your customers offer the two of you a small glance as Aiko rips off her apron, throwing it into the back. Without another word, she sprints out the front door. As she exits, she sails past Toshinori, who looks mildly alarmed.

You grin as Toshinori shyly waves at you from the entrance. There’s someone with him that piques your interest: a boy with green curls and freckles scattered across his face. When they walk past the group of girls, the young boy waves excitedly, stopping to talk.

Toshinori’s been stopping by more and more, much to your pleasure. There were some days where he forgets to order something, too enthralled in chatting with you and watching you work. But you’ve never seen the kid that’s with him.

When Toshinori steps up to the counter, your phone buzzes. Your head tilts as you read it, and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Please clock me out!

“Suga, can you clock Aiko out?” you call to the back. You hear him mutter, and you smile when he tells you she needs to be fired or demoted.

“He doesn’t mean that,” you tell Toshinori, who looks a little concerned. “Also I want you to try something!” You beam up at him, watching as his eyes widen before a soft, tired smile crawls across his face.

“I trust you. I’m good with whatever you want to make,” he mumbles, not quite meeting your eyes. You hum excitedly, turning around to make his drink.

He watches you fondly as you flutter behind the counter. He meant it, that he trusts you. He just can’t tell you everything. Not yet, at least. It’ll all come crumbling down if he says anything now. The smile on his face slips into a frown, the peaceful feeling evaporating from him. Toshinori’s so lost in thought, he doesn’t even notice when you’ve turned back around and placed the cup down in front of him.

Furrowing your brows, you wave your hand in his field of view, grounding him in the moment.

“Where’d you go?” you ask gently. He shakes his head, eyes downcast.

He’s about to answer when the boy that he came in with bounds up to the counter. Toshinori smiles and glances down, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“This is Midoriya. He’s one of my students.” Midoriya beams at you, and something clicks. You’re almost positive you had heard about him before. You don’t know whether he came up from Yamada or Sato, or the group of girls, but you’re positive Midoriya has been brought up before.

“It’s nice to meet you, Midoriya. I’m Y/N.” He waves at you, and your eyes pass over the faded lines that cover his hands and arms. Your heart drops into your stomach as you force your gaze to meet his, trying to maintain the cheery attitude.

“Got any plans for summer break?” you ask, hoping he didn’t notice your concern for his scarred body. He blinks up at you, his smile never leaving his face. If he did notice, he’s doing a decent job at not caring.

“Just training camp! It’s what we were all talking about.” Your head cock’s to the side, and you glance at Toshinori, silently asking for an explanation. He chuckles at your confusion before elaborating.

“There’s a training camp for the Hero courses coming up, so both Class 1-A and 1-B will attend.” You make a noise of understanding before nodding your head. Your gaze flickers to the group of students that are giggling about something. Your heart warms at the thought of them getting a nice break to train somewhere fun.

“Well, Midoriya, I just made Toshi a drink that all your friends are drinking. Would you like one too?” Toshinori’s face flushes red at the use of a nickname in front of his student, and you wink at him. You stifle a laugh as his blush darkens. Midoriya looks at the counter, mildly uncomfortable at how you tease his mentor, but he nods at the offer. You immediately get to work, when his quiet voice pipes up again.

“How much is it?” he murmurs. You shake your head, working quickly.

“Don’t even worry about it. My treat!” When you turn around with Midoriya’s drink, he looks very excited, like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin. Maybe giving him caffeine is a bad idea.

“Oi!” A voice draws your attention to the back, and you roll your eyes at Suga sticking his head out of the kitchen. “Giving out free things all the time is not a sustainable business practice.” Your nose scrunches up, and you stick your tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes before disappearing to bake. You purse your lips and set the drink down next to Toshinori’s.

“Ignore him. Anyways, it’s a coffee milk tea with boba!” you say excitedly. “Suga felt like making boba, and I figured why not add some black milk tea and a little coffee!” Toshinori smiles down at you, affection running off of him in waves. You watch as Midoriya and Toshinori both take a tip. Midoriya’s eyes widen as he chews one of the tapioca pearls.

“I know! The texture’s perfect,” you hum happily. “Suga kind of makes whatever he wants, and I’m alright with that. We’ve been talking about expanding so he can do some more actual cooking besides the ‘fucking sandwiches’, but it’s pretty expensive.”

You tap your chin in thought as you ramble to Midoriya, and Toshinori’s face pulls into a sharp grin. He’s going to tell you soon. He swears he will.

_________

You fall back against your bed, exhausted after a long day at work. The temptation to just shut your eyes crashes over you. Your phone buzzes much to your annoyance, but any frustration you harbor disappears when you see the message is from Toshinori. You smile stupidly at your phone, curling up on your side as you read the message he sent over and over again.

Can I call you?

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing out the window. The moon’s drifting across the sky, city lights washing away the stars. It feels warm, and something syrupy makes its home in your chest.

Of course! <3

You narrow your eyes, thumb hovering over the send button. You delete the heart and hit send. A stillness hangs over you, as you wait. When your phone lights up with his incoming call, you sit up, bringing your knees to your chest. Tentatively, you accept the call.

“Hi,” you murmur, trying not to feel shy. He’s fucked you before; a phone call should be nothing. You flush, shaking your head at the thought.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” you offer hesitantly.

“Not particularly, just wanted to hear your voice.” A smile unfurls on your face, and you let yourself fall back onto your bed, your legs spreading out in front of you.

“Oh I see, you go a few days without stopping by Sweet Bean, and you just go crazy without me.” He stutters at your words, not able to form a reasonable answer. You laugh at his panic, but change the topic, offering him a way out.

“How’s work going?” He sighs in relief at the question.

“I worked on some lesson plans, and the students will be leaving for camp in a few days.” Your eyes slightly widen as you remember the way Midoryiya said everyone was excited.

“Right, camp! That’ll be fun for them!”

“They’re there to train. But the Pussycats will treat them well.” You bolt upright at his casual tone.

“The Pussycats? As in The Wild, Wild Pussycats? The hero squad?” you ask, desperate for confirmation. He laughs but reassures you that it’s true. Your rest your head in your palm as the realization that Toshinori probably knows some really famous heroes settles in. Your thoughts drift back to the green-haired boy you met and the scars that litter his skin.

“And Midoriya will be going too, right?” you ask. He makes a noise of affirmation, but something lingers: an unspoken worry, a hint of doubt.

“Are you worried for him?” you question lightly, trying to get a better grasp at what’s eating away at him. Toshinori sighs into the receiver, the silence hanging heavily between you too. You hold your breath, waiting for whatever he’s debating over to spill out and into the phone.

“I want him to push himself and grow stronger, but not to the point where he breaks his bones. But Aizawa will be there, and I trust him.” You hum into the phone, brows furrowing with concern. He feels farther away than normal, the phone distorting his voice, but not doing much to hide the fact that he’s avoiding something. A seed of doubt lodges itself in the hollow of your chest, but you drop the subject. Whatever Toshinori’s hiding isn’t coming out anytime soon.

You frown thinking of the first time he slipped up. It was subtle, so tiny that you could’ve easily missed it. Just a few inconsistencies about where he had been. They were small enough that you didn’t say anything, and there’s a chance that you were overthinking it. But at the same time, it sat uncomfortably in your chest, where it rests now, weighing you down. You lie back, letting yourself flop against the bed.

“Besides working on lesson plans, what else are you doing over the next few weeks?”

“Not a lot,” he answers quickly, relieved at the change of topic. “I have some meetings, but that’s it really.” You nod to yourself, a sly grin spreading on your face.

“So, would you be interested in, I don’t know, having another date?” You hear him sputter into the receiver, and you practically see flames of red spreading from the tips of his ears to paint his cheeks. “And it’s not that I don’t like you coming to Sweet Bean, but it’d be nice to see you other places too,” you murmur. His breath catches and you bite your lip, trying to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

“I’d like that very much.” Toshinori’s voice is soft, sending butterflies gently floating through your stomach. You sit up again, nervously tapping your fingers against your thigh.

“Good. I was worried you were beginning to lose interest,” you tease. He lets out a laugh at the notion.

“Sweet girl,” he groans, making you flush, memories of the last time he called you that overwhelm your brain. “I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

“There’s a small festival that’s going on, actually. It’s some sort of dance competition I think. Would you wanna go tomorrow and check it out?”

“It’s a date.” A large smile forms on your face, and you make a satisfied noise.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whisper.

“Goodnight, sweet girl.”

Laying your phone down in your lap, you look out the window and your brows crease, the twinge of concern solidifying its roots. The city lights look a lot colder now.

_________

The festival is wonderful, full of games, a variety of colors, and inviting scents. You had been right, and it was some sort of dance festival, much to your delight. Troupes of dancers in beautiful, flowing, clothing performed in the street all day.

You let out a little hum as you bring a spoonful of kakigori to your mouth. The sun hangs low in the sky, painting the scattering of clouds gold, and shining beautifully in Toshinori’s hair. You glance up at Toshi, before pulling the spoon out of your mouth and offering it to him. He grins sharply, accepting the spoon and taking a bite of the shaved ice.

“I swear, those people have the best topping options,” you exclaim. He scoffs at you, shaking his head as he returns the spoon.

“I’m pretty sure they’re the same as they are everywhere.” You narrow your eyes at him and pout. Toshi’s eyes widen before he lets out a laugh that resounds in the air around you, enveloping you in something warm and soft.

“I mean, you are right. Their menu is special,” he corrects himself, shoving a hand into his pocket. You laugh at him, before carefully holding the kakigori with one hand, and sliding your other arm around the one he just placed in his pocket. You rest your head on his arm, and when you glance up, a deep red blooms at the tips of his ears. You grin before looking towards the crowds on the street.

“I kind of wanna see another performance. What about you?” you ask. A noise of agreement rumbles through his chest, and the two of you walk towards the mass of people. You never let Toshinori go, holding him close until you reach the crowd. Making sure to keep an eye on your kakigori, you take his hand, trying to guide the two of you forward, but the crowd is surprisingly dense. You stand on your tiptoes, trying to see the current group of dancers that were performing, jealous of Toshinori’s height.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he gently pulls his hand away from yours. His eyes flicker over to you, and then back to his phone. You take another bite of your kakigori as you wait for him to tell you what’s wrong. Toshinori shifts uncomfortably on his feet, reluctantly looking back at you. Your stomach drops at the way his pointed face is twisted.

“There was an emergency at the school. I have to go.” Your brows shoot upwards. You had not been expecting a school emergency. Especially when they’re on break. But then again, it’s one of the most prestigious schools in the country, and some of the classes are about to go to a training camp.

You set your spoon down in the ice, and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“I understand. Don’t worry about it.” His shoulders sag in relief, but you smirk and bat your eyelashes at him. “But I was looking forward to taking you home again.” Something full of pain and longing slips into his eyes, and his mouth fixes itself into a sad smile.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow night. If you’re free.” Toshinori sounds sad as he says it, and you reach up to gently grab the side of his arm.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” Your words give him permission to leave, and yet he hesitates. You squeeze his arm in reassurance. “It’s okay, Toshi.” He nods down at you, before stalking off into the crowd. You let out a sigh and turn back towards the dancers, taking another bite of the sweet kakigori.

_________

Toshinori is late. A twinge of annoyance flickers in your chest. He had already called you, apologizing to you about not being able to pick you up because something had kept him at work, and he was just now heading out. That was thirty minutes ago.

Starting to get flustered by the sad glances the waitress keeps sending your way, you pull out your phone pulling up Toshinori’s contact again. Before you hit the call button, Toshinori is sliding into the seat across from you. You blink blankly at him, before slowly setting your phone down on the table.

Something hot and sharp grows in your chest. He looks worn out, as if he’s being spread too thin, tugged in too many directions. He’s always looked tired, and you partially think whatever caused his scar is to blame, but this, this is different. A small frown forms on his face, and you reach out, resting your hand on his.

“Is everything okay?” you ask quietly. His eyes flicker between your hands and your concerned face. Toshinori’s face softens before he shifts his hand to squeeze yours lightly.

“I’m just glad to be here now.” You flush under his gaze and tighten your hand in his.

“I’m glad you’re here now, too,” you murmur. His large, calloused thumb strokes the back of your hand. You lean forward, wanting to bask in this moment. Toshinori mimics you, a smile tugging at his mouth. Your eyes trail up and down his face, and the tips of his ears turn red. Eventually, the waitress comes by again, and she looks relieved that someone’s finally joined you. She takes your order happily and manages to make only one comment about how long you’ve been waiting, much to your horror.

“Anyways, how was your day?” he chokes out once the waitress scurries off. Giving his hand one last squeeze, you pull it away, drawing back into yourself.

“It was fine. Same as every day. I’m sure your’s was more interesting.” Leaning against the table rest your head in your hand, looking at him expectantly. His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, he’s interrupted.

His phone buzzes on vibrate, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Toshinori exhales shakily, and he rubs the back of his head sheepishly. His face is downcast, shoulders slipped, and he meets your eyes reluctantly.

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he starts, but you just shake your head cutting him off.

“It’s okay. We can reschedule,” you try to say brightly, ignoring the cold feeling seeping into your bones. He nods at you sadly and rises from the table. His mouth quirks up sadly, and he ducks down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he pulls away, Toshinori leans his forehead against yours and brings his hand up to caress the side of your face.

“Tomorrow,” he reassures. You nod against him, and he’s gone, tearing out of the restaurant in a flash. You twirl your straw in your drink and purse your lips, brain twisting along with the liquid. A frigid thought pierces through your muddled mind: maybe he wasn’t interested in you and didn’t know how to let you down? When the waitress drops off the check, she smiles sadly at you; you wish you were a thousand miles away.

_________

He doesn’t even make it the next night. You’re left by yourself for about an hour, trying to ignore the pitying looks from the waiter. You had been excited earlier, watching as the sun sinks lower and lower, until the sweet orange shifts into soft pinks and deep blues. But it’s dark outside now, and you feel nauseous.

Your phone rings, jolting you from your thoughts. Your mouth twists into a small frown when you see it’s Toshinori. You let it ring, tilting your head to the side as you look at his contact picture. It’s a selfie of both of you holding to-go cups from Sweet Bean. He had to duck down to fit into the frame, a pretty blush covering his face as he looks at you with more tenderness than you’re used to. You had taken it when he walked you home from the police station with the intention of sending it to Aiko. Taking a deep breath, you answer the call.

“Hi.” You wince at how pathetic your voice sounds.

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” Toshinori practically yells. His frantic tone jolts you out of your self wallowing pity.

“Toshinori, what’s wrong?” Your stomach flips as your mind races through all the worse case scenarios.

“There was a villain attack at the camp, and -” he breathes in sharply, trying to calm himself down. “I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“Oh my god, do not worry about it. Do what you need to. I’ll talk to you later,” you reassure him, guilt pooling in your stomach. He quickly sputters out a goodbye, and the line goes dead. You walk home by yourself, and the entire time you think of those girls laughing inside Sweet Bean just a few days ago. When you finally go to sleep, your cheeks are wet and your eyes are sore.

It’s only the next day that you find out one of the students has been kidnapped. Bakugou Katsuki. You don’t know him, but you recognize him from the Sports Festival.

You close Sweet Bean for the day.

_________

Aiko is over the next night, watching you from the couch while you tend to the tea plants on your tiny balcony. She’s brought over takeout that’s been forgotten in your kitchen. You’re much too focused on trying to stay busy.

You hold the plants tenderly, trying to turn on the faucet of warmth inside you.

It’s foolish to be this worried about someone you don’t even know, but you can’t help it. You’ve met his classmates (and you are constantly worrying about them now), you know some of his teachers, and it’s horrible that he’s been kidnapped. It twists your stomach, and you bite back the bile that’s threatening to rise.

Your hands stay cold.

“Y/N, you should see this!” Aiko calls from the living room. Standing up, you wipe your hands on your pants and join her. On the screen is Aizawa, another teacher, and the principal of U.A. Your nerves pool in your stomach at seeing how much worse the bags under Aizawa’s eyes have gotten; you can’t help but think of Toshinori.

You space out, chewing on your lip nervously as the conference comes to an end. You hadn’t heard from him all day, and considering what was going on, that’s to be expected. But you just want to know if he’s okay. The panicked tone that was in his voice plays on a loop in your mind.

Aiko’s gasp jolts you back to reality, and your eyes zero in on the screen. There's a fight being televised. You squint, trying to make out the hero as the camera zooms and refocuses. It’s All Might, you realize. A shallow sense of relief overwhelms you. He’ll take care of this. But to your horror, the villain’s power is on par with his. You reach out, gripping Aiko’s arm, your jaw clenching.

Your brain slinks back to the day he had chastised you for running recklessly into a situation. It’s best to leave situations like this up to the professionals. That’s what he had said to you that day. And then he had stuck his neck out for you for no reason. He can’t lose. He can’t lose. He can’t lose, fuck.

You watch, mouth tightened into a firm line, as he takes a beating. After another forceful blow, Aiko stills next to you, the atmosphere between you two crystallizing into something cold and sticky as your jaw slackens.

On the screen, in All Might’s now baggy outfit, covered in blood is Yagi Toshinori.

________________________

Taglist: @bougainvilliea713otaku @chou-maitresse​

[faangirl101]

Revolution pt3, spec ops guys x reader

PART 1      PART 2

Pairings: Alpha/tank x reader,Riot/reader

Warnings: pain, violence

Authors note: I was thinking about making a taglist! Write to me if you want to be on it!

The sun peeked inside the curtains, creeping across the walls like dew down a leaf a spring morning. I groaned when it finally reached my face, leaving a greenhouse warmth inside the blanket wrapped around my body. Finally well rested, more rested then id been in weeks, i sat up. With a hunched back supported against the headboard. Hesitant, i moved the white blanket off the rest of my body. I hissed for myself as i saw the clear evidence of green and blue smattered like paint across certain spots. I with care slid my fingers across it, remembering the feeling of rubber bullets drilling into my skin. i shook off the thought and let my hand travel up my thigh. There was other marks, red and shaped like a garlic clove. I smiled and tried to hold back the shiver. The nights more pleasant activities started playing over in my head. Hands against wet tile, his hands gripping my hips. Head leaned backwards, stars moving around my vision. How riot did not only give me the best orgasm in my life, but also cared for my wounds, handed me painkillers and let me sleep with a kiss on top of my forehead. The feel of lips burned on my head and i bit my lip at the thought of seeing him again. And tank.

My stomach immediately dropped at his name. His scolding was not a pleasant memory. I decided to not think about it more, not really longing for the weight of anxiety in the depth of my stomach. I threw my legs across the side of the bed, dangling my feet for a second before placing them on the ground. With some hestiance i got up, realizing that the pain had gotten better. Well not better, but easier to handle. I ignored my head begging me to go back to sleep as i started limping down the stairs. I was met with an inviting smell. Coffee.

The previous anxiety was long gone as i tried not to squeal in the happiness. I loved coffee. "Is it okay if i take a cup?", i asked as i took the final step into the kitchen.The man in front of me was not Riot. He had a pale complexion but there was a tint of something else then white. His hair was short, a brown newly woken up mess on top of his head. His figure was giant, stretching up next to the cupboard. There was only so many tall men in this house. Tank, i supposed, jumped at my voice. He looked in my directions, the earlier droopy sleepy eyes turned into green orbs of anger? He really hated me.

"Sorry", i mumbled, fiddleting nervously with the long black t-shirt riot had given me the day before "i didn't mean to startle you".

He made a motion i could really only place as rolling his eyes. "yeah take a cup, you're our guest after all", there was venom in his words, spit out against me making my heartburn. Burning in rage, i wasn't really known for my self control. "Hey", i pointed a finger at him like he had the previous day "i don't know why you hate me, i have not done anything to you". He looked shocked at my outburst before quickly collecting himself. "I don't hate you", he didn't even look at me "i just don't understand why you have to be here. The fact that you suck at protesting, is not our responsibility". His eyes turned away from me finally got to me. I grasped his wrist, hard, and pulled him so he was facing me. He looked down at our skin contact with an unplaceable emotion mirroying behind his light eyes. His skin was hot against me. For some reason he was so inhuman in my eyes i didn't expect body warmth. "I wanted to make a change!", i snapped, still not dropping his hand "okay! I felt useless just signing petitions and rolling my thumbs, i wanted to make a change". His face softened into a expression rather pleasant on his face. Now, with his full attention on me i actually had time to get a good look at him. He was handsome, freckles spread across his nose, full lips a straight line. His jaw was tensed as he watched me search him. "That's why me and Riot protest, we know what we're doing. That's why people like you stay at home", his words were hard but his voice was a different tone. Humorous. He dropped my hand and the sudden forced activity in my shoulder made me hiss in pain. He looked me up and down, eyes staying a bit longer on the bruises on my legs. He opened his full lips half way, something passing by his mouth. For a second i thought he was going to add something but instead he pursed his lips together and turned his back against me. That was the end of our short conversation i supposed. Like walking over glass i sneaked to one of the cupboards, lifting down a cup and moving back to the coffee machine.

Tank's presence in the room was intimidating me. I held my breath as if i was a kid playing hide and seek. My heart was pounding so hard that my body must think i was being chased. But i was still, in a kitchen with a mug tightly clutched to my chest. I gulped down the loud breath threatening to escape as i started pouring the coffee. I watched the coal pitch black liquid swapping up the side of the mug, mesmerized by something so simple. I tried no to shake too much when i put the can of coffee back, feeling tanks hot eyes on me. "What's your name?", the sudden question startled me to the very core. I was surprised i didn't drop the mug. "Y/n", i had my back against him. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how nervous i was. He hummed, either in a positive manner or mocking my name. It was hard to tell. "So.. you're going to go home and roll your thumbs and sign petitions now?", i got the sense that his statement was a subtle way of throwing me out. I pursed my lips, knowing deep down he was making fun of me. For not being able to protest.

Fuck him

"I'm going to protest", I sipped the coffee, enjoying the warm bitter taste on my tongue. I heard him sign "yeah, Riot guessed you would say that". I couldn't hold back the aggressive blush at the mention of Riot, glad that Tank couldn't see my face. I needed to see Riot again. I needed to touch him again. I suppressed the warmth rising in my chest with another hot gulp of the beverage in my hands.

)(

"Where's Riot?", i tried to sound nonchalant, as if my heart wasn't currently pounding violently. I could already see the protests in the distance as i pulled up the ski mask a bit so i could get a good breath. Tank was moving next to me, large as ever. I looked so ridiculously small, pathetic next to him that it made me angry. "He's on another protest, we move protests by following a schedule. We can't be seen together. Do you know what that means?", his question caught me off guard. I zipped up my thick hoodie enough to cover the last piece of visible skin. "Um", i didn't really even understand his question. "Hey", he snapped and grasped my chin to roughly turn my head to his direction. He had to lower down to talk down my face "Since Riot can't be here to babysit you, he left you to me. I'm going to actually make a change, and you sit still and quiet and don't make a sound, capish?". I lifted my head to strain against his grasp "doesn't that work towards the whole point of protesting. Stay quiet? You're not taking away my voice to fight the power i hope? Tank". I pushed his name past my lips as if it was a curse word. He stayed quiet for so long i started regretting my words, thinking of ways to save myself. He dropped his hand, wiping his helmet "watch it, baby". I knew deep down he was simply referring to the fact that he was babysitting me, but the nickname made a wave of heat creep over my body. I had to run to keep up with Tanks longs legs, ignoring the familiar feelings rising in my body. I did not have time for that.

Some time had passed. The police had put up a good defense even if the protester won over them in numbers. My number one priority? was first: protest for the rights of black lives. Second?, proving to Tank i could protest. In the beginning i had stayed pretty close to him but i had thickened the distance when i realized that his area was far too difficult for a riot beginner. Instead i had moved to the first aid hut placed in the center where new protesters was rushed by minutes. I didn't know much about rioting but knew one or another thing about taking care of wounds. So after an hour of pouring milk down tear gassed throats and stopping flowing blood from busted noses, i had forgotten all about Tank. Well, until he was limping over to the hut. One hand tightly grasped around his forearm. Despite all our previous painful words i rushed over to him.

"Shut up", he mumbled before i could even get a word out. Annoyed i pushed him down a bench with a huff. Then, with more care then he deserved, i slowly intertwined our hands in order to lift his hesitant hand from the wound. I tried to ignore the horrific sight of the left remains of a crushed glass bottle in the blood splattered wound. I didn't even notice i let our hands stay intertwined, maybe because the gloves hid his body warmth. But he noticed, his eyes stayed on our hands in his lap the entire time. Every time i pulled out a glass shart he hissed and tightened his grip on my hand. I couldn't hold back the two rapid heartbeats rising. Something about the closeness, yet the distance between me and Tank was..... interesting to say at least.

"There", i mumbled, softer then i had ever been to him. He didn't curse at me, or make an unpleasant noise. He stayed quiet as our fingers slowly fell apart. I wondered what face he was making underneath the mask. Was he angry? Upset? Happy?. In my mind, he was half smirking. But i had been wrong many many times before.

I turned my head when there was loud yelling behind us. A police officer was hovering over the medics i had worked side by side with today. "You have no right to be here", the pig spit, using his body frame to intimidate the smaller black women in front of him. His height didn't scare me, i mean i had spent the night over at two extremely large mens house. "Hey!", i didn't realize it was my own voice until i saw heads turning my directions. I could feel Tank fumbling out his hand to hold be back but i had already moved across the asphalt in long steps. "We're not protesting. We're helping people, that's not illegal. We're not blocking any roads.Sir", i knew everyone in the crowd could hear the venom behind my words. The cop looked stressed, he was sweating like a scorched pig. "Listen here, girl", he grunted "i suggest you take a step back". I fought the urge to smile, knowing it would infuriate him even more. I looked down at our shoes before lifting my head to meet his eyes, mostly for dramatic effect. "Or what?", i bit my lips hesitantly.

Well it was the last thing i had time to do before the hardback of the baton was flying down my side. I doubled over, groaning in pain. But i didn't have time to feel sorry for myself. I saw in the corner of my eye how the police lifted his baton once again. Before thinking it over i grasped the baton mid air, ignoring the burning sensation in my hand and muscle tissue. The police face fell, but my lifted. In the gods. With the force i didn't know i had, i pushed down his own hand to his face, the baton knocking him out cold. He slumped down in a pile beneath me. The hoards of people around me was yelling in harmonie, it was like gospel to my ears. Hand clapping, boots stomping. Tank was on my side in time for another pair of claps. But the tight grip on my arm was threatening. I gulped down the rising anxiety. I had just attacked a cop. Attackled a officer. Me, who cannot kill a bug. "Lets go", Tank growled and pulled me hard to his side.

[timeforelfnonsense]

The Lusty Eladrin Maid

Rating: E (no smut yet but there will be in the update) || Ao3 ||  Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series || Author's tucked away at the end

It was a simple enough task to find Dafni in the little forest glade. He’d followed the trail of flowers left behind by her bare feet in the grass. The iridescent fabric of her skirt fluttered around her thighs as she twirled. Her nimble fingertips plucked berries, as red and ripe as her parted lips. She filled the woven basket hanging from the crook of her bent arm, singing softly to herself. A few rosy ringlets peak out of the front of her kerchief, framing her bespeckled cheeks. A smile tugged at Astarion’s lips, she looked like a storybook character come to life right off the page.

Silently, he crept further into the meadow watching her sway to her slivery, birdsong melody. Closer and closer until Dafni unknowingly spun herself into his embrace. Astarion pulled her into his chest, a baby pink flush spreading across the bridge of her freckled nose. Dafni glanced up at him, doe-eyed through her long, fluttering lashes. Daffodil cups unfurled themselves throughout the sea of curls flowing from her lacy kerchief. Their vibrant colors painting a sunset of yellow, cream, and peachy-pink in her tresses.

“It seems I’ve caught myself a faerie! ” Astarion murmured against her ear, toying with a stray tendril, twisting the curl around his index finger.

Dafni let out a chime of silver laughter before responding in an airy voice, “And what do you mean to do with me, good sir?”

“I mean to take you into my arms.” He said with a low chuckle, turning her so her chest was pressed to his own, “To kiss you and hold you.” He tilted her face upwards, finding her berry-stained lips with his own. Pulling away for a single torturous moment, he spoke once more, “I mean to make you mine.” 

He could taste the sweet tang of raspberry juice and honey on her tongue as he coaxed her deeper into the kiss. A contented sigh slipped from Dafni’s lungs. She nestled herself closer to his body, her full breasts pressed against his chest. He brought a hand to the base of her skull, gently cradling her head in his palm. He felt her lips curl into a smile under his kiss. 

He’d found himself rather enchanted by this little game of flirtatious make-believe. He’d perused the dog eared pages of her books out of equal parts boredom and curiosity. She’d only had the single faded pink leather volume in her bag when she’d been snatched, but over a few days, she’d been able to track down a trove of smutty literature. Through his investigation of the many, many volumes of romance and debauchery, Astarion had gathered some insight into the romantic workings of her mind. 

She dreamt of being swept off her feet. She wanted illicit midnight rendezvous. She longed for stolen kisses and tender words whispered between waltzes. To sneak away from a ballroom to some hidden alcove. He could picture it perfectly, her frilly skirts thrown over her back. His hand climbing its way up her stocking clad caves as she was bent over the nearest piece of furniture and tupped to oblivion.

What was the harm in indulging her whimsy for a little while? It would be easy enough to play the dashing rapscallion to her wayward debutante. 

 “I’ll happily surrender myself to you if you promise to kiss me like that again,” She said, her chest rising and falling with short breaths. A lopsided, sunny smile flashing across her mouth.

Dafni stood on her tiptoes as she threw her arms around his neck, drawing his lips to her own again and again and once more for good measure. Her hand cupped his face, her thumb stroking softly against the sharp line of his cheek. 

A shiver ran through her as he dragged the tips of his middle and index fingers down the sensitive flesh of her inner arm. His touch wandered along her bicep, carefully tracing the delicate outline of the hardy muscle beneath the trimmings of girlish fat. His hand wrapped around the outside of her arm next, giving her a gentle squeeze before continuing his exportation of the shaking limb. His thumb glided along the line of her vena amoris, strumming a soundless melody that reverberated against the walls of her heart. 

He followed the vein to the pulse point hammering at her wrist. Her breath caught in her throat as the warmth of his kiss slipped away. Dafni made a sour expression of protest but Astarion paid her no mind. Gingerly, he brought her wrist to his lips. A feather-light peck tickled her skin before he clasped her dainty hand in his own. The corners of his lips quirked up in a spellbinding grin. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side sending a singular ivory ringlet loose from that splendid head of hair. His left hand came to rest just above the small of her back. She leaned forward in a fruitless attempt to restore the kiss, but she was only able to catch the very corner of his roguish mouth.

“What happened to holding, and kissing and making me yours?” Dafni inquired in a playful mockery of his cadence.

“I am still holding you,” He reminded the hand on her back, pushing her closer for emphasis, “and I did kiss you. As for making you mine...All in good time, dear.” He purred, lips brushing the long line of her ear, “Tell me, sweet girl, do you know how to dance?”

“I- Yes, I know how to dance...”

“I thought so,” Astarion nodded thoughtfully. The hand on her back traveled up to the base of her shoulder blade. He gently nudged her arm upwards until to rest atop his. “ A pretty creature like you must be the star of all sorts of quaint fetes. I want to be certain that at the next little soirée you attend, you’ll spend the evening scanning the crowd for my face. And every time some brave young lord or lady plucks up the courage to ask for a dance, those perfect lips will turn ever so slightly upwards as you decline. Because every time you hear a waltz all you’ll be able to think of is the man in the glen and the passionate, consummate sex you had with him.” 

Dafni’s heart threatened to burst. There she was, Dafni Ríwen, Thesmia’s sheltered, unexceptional daughter of controversial paternity. The girl who sat on the sideline of every formal gathering she’d ever attended with an empty dance card and a sullen pout, seen as an unquestionable first water by the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on! She felt her footing wobble but Astarion’s confidence held her steady and sure. She knew it was only a bit of fun but she’d spent decades dreaming of finding herself in a situation very much like this one and by the hells she was going to enjoy it! 

Astarion was clearly versed in the art of ballroom seduction. He led her through the waltz as sure-footed as anything. Though there was no music, his rhythm never faulted. Moreover, he held her much closer than was proper. His hand had fallen to the curve of her waist rather than her shoulder. Her body felt as if it had been set alight at each point of contact. 

If they were truly in a ballroom some overzealous chaperone would have certainly made a fuss. While the fey were certainly creatures of revelry and carnal pleasure, they held a certain fondness for priority and decorum that seemed to outsiders rather contradictory. But, to the people of Faerie, it all made perfect sense. A chaperone scolds a young couple for improperly and perhaps the attention would incite a reaction from a rival suitor leading to a dispute of honor. Perhaps they proved the final push for a public delectation of love. Or, at the very least, the blushing lovers might seek out some secret place to continue their dalliance now colored with the excitement of rebellion.

The wicked curve of his smile and her previous encounter with him in these very woods, lead Dafni to believe that Astarion was exactly the sort of libertine who was all too thrilled to be given an excuse to sneak off for a bit of secret bedsport. A yearning sigh fell from her chest as she pictured herself laid for him in one of the Summer Queen’s manicured hedge mazes. She bit back a lewd noise as she pictured some hapless party goer stumbling across them still in the throes of amorous relations. 

All in good time, She repeated to herself as she picked her thighs together.

___

When I make a new OC, I always include a tiny piece of myself, a hobby, skill, or habit. It's always something small but acts as the proverbial  "baby's first laugh"  à la the fairies of Neverland for characters.  I don't usually share what that spark is, but rather keep them as little in-jokes for myself and those closest to me. As a little peek behind the curtain, I will share that Dafni inherited my love of romance novels. I'm sure it's no surprise to anyone who follows my tumblr I am a lover of smutty, historical, and fantasy literature. This fic is my love letter to Tessa Dare, Lisa Kleypas, and all of the other women whose stories provide me with a much-needed escape during an awful year as well as inspiring me to write once more. Part two coming soon! (Also yes, the vena amoris is an old wives tale BUT it's very romantic, and who's to say elves don't have the fictitious heart vein?)

[willowistic22]

Cardigan - Belmerttons

Ship: Belmerttons

Genre: Angst if this is how you angst lol

Song: Cardigan - Taylor Swift 

A/N: So I’ve been meaning to get into doing songfics for awhile now and I finally found time to do it yeyyyy. in celebration of Taylor’s newest album I wrote my first songfic to one of  my favorite songs on the album!! It’s always me projecting my inner swiftie lol. give the song a listen it’s sooooo good. Idk how frequent i’ll be writing these songfics but just know i want to dabble in a little bit of songfics so I hope y’all like it! (it’s my first one so critiques are much appreciated!)

Vintage tee, brand new phone

High heels on cobblestones

That night, Buttons was finally brave enough to wear his high heels out in public. The club he went to was full of life. Flashing lights in every corner of the room, music blasting like it’s the end of the world, various looking people dancing to the beat.

Buttons found refuge by the bar to order a drink for himself to sink in his loneliness. Despite the club being packed with people, he doesn’t know anyone.

But that’s where Buttons found him. Leaning his back on the bar top. In a yellow vintage t-shirt that says ‘Santa Cruz, California’ in blue. He dragged his eyes to meet the face. The right amount of freckles sprinkled across his cheeks as it spreads out when he smiles. White teeth gleaming under the light the disco ball provided. Jet black hair going absolutely wild like the scene around them.

God was that stranger attractive. And he might’ve caught Buttons starring.

Dancin’ in your Levi’s

Drunk under a streetlight

He presented himself to Buttons as ‘Elmer’. He was charming and smooth for the most part. Pulled the right strings in Buttons to give him butterflies. But Buttons can tell he might be a little tipsy from the way that he’s slightly swaying for no reason.

One thing led to another and Buttons founds himself walking out of the bar with Elmer. Manhattan’s nightlife is something he’s used to, since he has lived here all his life. But he has someone to share it with now. All of a sudden, the moon seems to shine a little brighter and the stars twinkling undecipherable signals to Buttons.

Buttons laughed at the stupid antics the alcohol made Elmer do. They’ve just met, but Buttons can tell he isn’t the best dancer ever. Elmer swung his body while holding onto the streetlight while trying to sing the lyrics to the very loud song the club provided, with a little stain on his jeans from the liquid he accidentally spilled. It made Buttons erupt into laughter.

They’ve only had one simple conversation but Buttons can tell getting to know this boy is going to be one wild adventure he can’t wait to embark.

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby, kiss it better

And it was. For two full months, they’ve spent their days together. Elmer made Buttons’ day to day life so much better. Every little thing they did was like a new adventure. Whether it’d be going out for pizza to as little as sneakily putting a hand under his sweatshirt in broad daylight. Maybe it’s too soon to tell but Buttons could almost say it’s love.

Luckily, he hadn’t said it. When Buttons really thought this was all too good to be true, it was.

They’re in each other’s arms, in the middle of Buttons’ apartment. Swaying slowly to soft music they put on to fill in the void. Buttons rests his head slightly into the curve of Elmer’s neck, and Elmer’s sitting on Buttons’ fluffy brown hair.

Previous nights they did this, it was full of life. Now that reality has finally came around the block, they sway in each other’s warmth to the inevitable heartbreak they’d have to go through in the morning.

Chase two girls, lose the one

Elmer isn’t an official New York resident. He lives in Poland with the rest of his family. The kid who’s known to do the right thing only because that’s what his older siblings has been doing their whole life. And the right thing for him is to go with his family’s advice to propose to his long-time lady friend since his 25th birthday is coming up and he hasn’t found a special someone yet.

But he doesn’t love that girl. Not in that way at least. When Buttons found out about the truth, he was in pieces. Sobbing in his bedroom all alone that Elmer had kept that really important information from him.

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Buttons’ should’ve put his guard up when his heart said it was all too good to be true. Elmer is a gentleman, that part was true. He was out of Buttons’ league. Did everything Buttons could ever ask for when he’s searching for someone to share his love with. But Elmer was never his to keep or lose.

Elmer wanted nothing more than to go back in time and make everything right. From preventing Buttons to sob his heart out from thinking how dumb and naïve he was. And Elmer couldn’t do anything more than just be on the other side of the door, listening to each teardrop Buttons’ received from the devil they’ve created within their made up heaven.

But I knew you

“Why didn’t you told me?” Buttons had asked once he finally picked himself up. He opened the door to see water streaks on Elmer’s cheeks, much like his own.

“I wanted to… I-I swear on my life…” Elmer chocked out, sniffling his stuffy nose. It was hard for him to form a proper sentence with the sobs threatening to escape his lips, “I just… couldn’t find the strength to… accept that I could lose you…”

He really thought he knew who Elmer was. But it turns out he was still the same stranger Buttons met at the club.

What had made the situation even worse, Buttons didn’t have the strength to slam the door at his face. He was to weak to hate him. He couldn’t if he tried. He continued to sob his puffy red eyes out as he embrace Elmer in a hug. Elmer couldn’t stop his own tears from sinking into the sadness.

He let Button’s tears leave a mark on the hoodie he had worn that day. Hoping the marks would stay there forever to remind him the best thing in his whole life he had lost.

Playing hide-and-seek and

Giving me your weekends

And it was unfair for both parties. Elmer found that ‘something’ he’s been searching for his whole life. Giving his all to Buttons.

Elmer gave Buttons a new meaning to simple weekends. Glued to the bed till 11 AM, entangling in each other’s limbs under the covers, skipping breakfast to turn it into heavy lunch dates. Sometimes one ends up dragging the other outside to get some sun. Other times, they stay in with their pyjamas on.

He also reminded Buttons what it’s like to interpret the famous ‘young, wild, and free’ quote. Elmer had ran around Central Park like a child one night. Buttons ended up following his little game of hide and seek after seeing nothing would make him stop. Forgetting their whole point of walking Buttons back to his place after their sixth dinner date.

And it was on that cold and dark night that he finally found out what it meant to stargaze. Buttons had finally caught up to Elmer, fully crashing on his chest when he turned around unexpectedly. Elmer caught him in his arms before gravity did. He held him up with breathless smiles decorating their faces. They were locked in an intense gaze and felt their breath do the same.

Elmer raised a hand to rest it on Buttons’ cheek. If the soft touch didn’t give Buttons goosebumps, the words Elmer whispered after will.

“Ca-can I kiss you?”

Your heartbeat on the High Line

Once in twenty lifetimes

Buttons never even thought their Manhattan adventures could get any better. But it seems that Elmer knows how to make all the black and white colors in life full of color.

Something as small as focusing on Elmer’s heartbeat as he lays his head on his chest while sitting on Buttons’ couch could make him feel this way. Safer than being under the covers at night when 7 year old Buttons had a fear of monsters in the closet. Warmer than the hot chocolates he orders when he goes to Starbucks. Feeling confident that everything in his life has lead up to meeting Elmer.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone’s bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

For the first time in his life, he found out what being loved really felt like.

It felt like Elmer’s hugs was warmer than winter jackets. It felt like Elmer’s finger that had traced any inch of skin on Buttons was softer than a newborns blanket. It felt like all the bright colors on Time Square’s billboards were nothing compared to what Buttons sees when he kisses Elmer with his eyes shut.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Was all we needed

And their love, or whatever it is they have, was each interpreted differently. But it still comes down to how sweet it was.

It was sweet to Buttons for Elmer to be laughing in the middle of their kiss as they head home with a cab after wearing their legs off from roaming around Manhattan. They made sure to give a huge tip to the driver for needing to put up with their honeymoon stage.

“Is he going to be okay after going through that car ride with us?” Buttons asked, still smiling as they make their way into Buttons’ apartment building after exiting the cab.

“I gave him a $20 dollar tip for needing to endure all of that. He’ll be fine!” Elmer replied, to which Buttons countered it with a giggle.

And Elmer thought it was sweet to him when he successfully got Buttons to go to a bar and endure his tipsy antics after his second drink. It’s not that he gets totally hammered, but Elmer does starts to get a little lost after two drinks of scotch.

Buttons had to hold Elmer’s arm the whole way back or else he might trip and fall. It was a sight to behold when Elmer did manage to trip and fall on his own footsteps.

You drew stars around my scars

But now I’m bleeding

“You could still stay”

“You know that’s not possible”

“Then make it possible”

“Buttons—”

“You don’t even wanna go back there”

“I can’t—”

“You lied to me for nearly two months!” Buttons lifted his head from the warmth of Elmer’s shoulder, making the two stop from swaying to the background song, “I’m sure you can make up another lie to tell your family”

It broke Elmer’s heart to hear something like that come out of Buttons. Voice cracking a little from the sob he held back, but the anger still visible. And slowly, he starts to bleed out invisible liquid out of his eyes. It isn’t the conventional blood you’d get from a nasty cut. Because it was worse.

Buttons sobs quietly as he stares up into Elmer’s eyes that’s starting to bleed as well.

Elmer grabs Buttons cheeks with both hands. He wipes away the tear streaks with his thumbs and sniffles out, “I’m sorry. But I can’t”

Steppin’ on the last train

Marked me like a bloodstain

The next day arrive a little too quick. The day Elmer leaves for Poland. It’s a long-shot for him to return because his Manhattan trip alone costed more than an arm and leg.

Buttons isn’t sure how Elmer managed to convinced Buttons to take him to the airport. And now that they’re standing in front of the entrance, Buttons regrets it a little. Because no one should be saying a proper goodbye to the person that broke their heart. No one should be crying over that person exiting their life. Buttons knows better, yet, he can’t help it.

“I gotta go—”

“I know” Buttons cuts him off. No trace of warmth or longing in it. Just plain cold words.

Elmer just stands in front of him, not moving one inch of his muscle other than the ones on his face. His expression changes after getting the message of how hurt Buttons really is. But who is there to blame other than himself.

I knew you

Tried to change the ending

Peter losing Wendy

“Buttons…” Elmer called out with his breath. The crowded airport fades away around them as Elmer drops his hands holding his passport and plane ticket. He looks at the shorter boy, desperately trying to look for the same look he saw in his eyes when they were still having those adventures around the city together. The hope, the adoration, the excitement. Anything that dismisses his coldness Elmer is receiving. 

“I know you’d stay if you can. But you can’t” Buttons replied so Elmer wouldn’t waste his breath on something Buttons already knows.

They stayed quiet for a moment. Buttons looks down to his worn down sneakers to ignore the visible pain behind Elmer’s black misty eyes.

“If I were to ever come back…” Elmer started out with a crack in his voice, “…would you want to see me?”

Buttons furiously wiped an eye with the over-sized jumper he’s wearing and looks up to meet Elmer’s eyes, “I-isn’t there a flight you’re suppose to catch?”

That answers Elmer’s question pretty quick. His heart shattered even more. With a hopeless breath, Elmer turns around with his luggage but stops halfway to face Buttons once more before finally disappearing to the crowd, “Take care, Buttons…”

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

Buttons should have never opened his heart so easily to the stranger he met in the club. He wouldn’t be in the back of the cab from the airport just to say goodbye to Elmer. The heartbreak he’s enduring is all his own fault. He holds back tears threatening to trickle down his cheeks again.

How could I’ve been so stupid? He thought to himself, looking out the window. The view of the city goes back to being the dull city he’s always lived in. Nothing is exciting about Manhattan anymore. Benjamin Davenport, you deserve this for being such a fucking naive idiot.

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

Once Buttons shuts his apartment door, he sinks down the floor with the door against his back. He tucks his knees closer to his chest, grabbing it for dear life as he sobs harder than before. The air turns into all sorts of misty with every drop of water rolls down his cheeks.

That same misty air didn’t change for the coming of long and dreadful days ahead of him. Where he now has to spend them without having a partner to conquer the city. The skin Elmer has placed a kiss is somehow screaming for more attention. And his brain constantly rewinds the ‘what-if’ Elmer had asked before he left for his flight.

If I were to ever come back would you want to see me?

Oh, God, what if he really will come back? What would Buttons do?

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

Days turns to weeks. Weeks turns to a full month. Every possession Buttons owns that Elmer has touched haunts him till this day. It’s unfortunate to Buttons because he let Elmer touch every aspect in his life.

But there’s this part in Buttons that tells him to hold on. Hold on to that huge hoodie Elmer had let him use at night when it got too cold. In this one particular night, Buttons let’s the weeping sky decide whether he’s going to listen or not.

He let’s his weakness gets the best of him and grabs the gray hoodie from his closet, slipping it on in one swift move. Buttons hasn’t washed it since the day Elmer left it there. Buttons takes in the smell as he drops his weight back on his couch again. Sweet and fruity. He even picked up a little scent of Scotch from the soft interior. There were more he sort of picked up, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was. But that’s the smell of Elmer.

‘Cause I knew everything when I was young

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

Chasin’ shadows in the grocery line

The feeling of longing is still there. And that ‘what-if’ was still looming in the back of his mind.

Buttons hates him. He hates Elmer for bringing in hope when he knows it’s going to be ripped away from his hands sooner or later. He hates Elmer for showing him a world only the two of them can see. Buttons hates the cruel act of receiving so many things from him like they’d be something special, only for Elmer to retract it all.

But secretly, he wishes Elmer really would come back. Part of him wants to call him up and check on him. But another part of him wishes for Buttons to get over that guy. It took so much time to get to where Buttons is at right now. Sure, there’s still that sorrow feeling in his stomach but he let’s the sky sob for him ever since he stopped his eyes from doing so.

Elmer had made up his mind to leave. So Buttons should just drop it. There’s no point in trying to chase someone who isn’t waiting to be caught. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to. The coldness of his living room makes him miss Elmer’s warm hugs. But he stays strong because he knows that ‘what-if’ is only a dream.

Or so he thought…

I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired

And you’d be standin’ in my front porch light

And I knew you’d come back to me

A faint knocking on the door brought Buttons back to his apartment from his mind concentrating on the sound of the rain. He cocks his head towards the sound, a little surprise upon hearing it since he isn’t expecting anyone to come.

He reluctantly gets up from the comfort of his couch, dragging his feet across the cold hardwood floor. He opens the door to reveal a figure all too familiar.

Buttons’ eyes widen up to the same eyes he fell in love with. He froze in place to see the presence of the tall boy with the same wild hair he wore on the first night they met.

“I…” Elmer started out, shifting his hands out of the pocket of his jacket to reach out. But he retracts his hand mid action, figuring out it might be inappropriate to do it now.

The air between them shifted. A mixture of everything they’re feeling all at once as they hover between Buttons’ apartment and the gloomy hallway. They speak through their frozen posture, saying everything and nothing all at once without a verbal word being exchanged until Elmer broke the silence first.

“I hope you can forgive me”

[ageofevermore]

Who We Are Chapter 10 - Iliad and Odyssey

summery: a hundred years ago earth was destroyed by nuclear warfare. those who could escape did, and those who couldn’t we’re thought to have been burned with the rest of earth. those who escaped primfaya traveled to space, living to tell stories of what earth once was to generations that hoped to see it’s beauty one day. nearly three generations later it’s time. oxygen is running low and life support can’t be fixed. a hundred teenagers are sent to the ground, but is it every really that simple?

Pairings: Olivia Kane x Bellamy Blake

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: hallucinations, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of guns and gun violence, bellivia fluff ! 

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                                                     When Olivia finally managed to pull herself up off the floor, her mind was immediately brought to Bellamy Blake and the fate of his situation. Her mind was working fast to compensate for a reasoning beside what had just occurred, yet the only somewhat bearable explanation Olivia could fathom was that the beans she'd eaten were mutilated with hallucinogenic properties. Earth skills had been very vague when addressing which foods were edible on earth, and Olivia was beginning to despise that irony.

Grabbing the bag of necessities from the floor, Olivia darted up the stairs with itching desperation to confirm that Bellamy was both alive and alright. The very opposite of Micheal Hayes. Olivia's body was visibly trembling as she exited the military base, shoulders barely stable enough to support the lightweight duffle bag of med-kits and blankets. Selfishly, Olivia had already shoved aside three of the softest for her, Octavia and Raven.

Olivia didn't call out for Bellamy in fear of alerting hostile grounders of her presence, so instead she crept through the trees and bushes with hesitation clear across her features. Olivia analyzed hundreds of possibilities within her mind, however she hadn't expected to see Bellamy laid out across a tree, beaten and bloodied with a lifeless body only a few inches from his feet. His chest heaved up and down heavily, his horror etched visibly across his pale complexion.

"Bellamy!" Olivia gasped in pure panic, her feet moving despite the desperate ache to curl up in a ball and just collapse. The world had been against her for so long, she figured it was her time to surrender. Her day had been filled with nothing but soft spoken confrontational battles, and her injures had just been pronounced terminal. "Are you alright, Bell?"

Bellamy broke down into a quiet sob of bleeding pain. The sharp intakes of breath he begged for broke Olivia's heart in two. His pain was so great and yet he put up a facade that could fool them all. She thought she knew Bellamy Blake, and yet she was so wrong. Olivia understood his motives, she could see his perspective, but she knew nothing of the tragedies that made him who he is.

"My mother," Bellamy began with aching breaths that all too closely resembled sobs, "if she knew what I've done, who I am — she raised me to be better, to be good, and all I do is hurt people. I'm a monster." Bellamy's voice trembled as he tried to remain somewhat intact before the completely shattered girl.

Olivia's breath pickup as her mind was brought back to the nightmare she'd been forced to relive just moments ago. Her own actions; attempts to do good and be better, had led her down a path of misery and grey colored grief. She'd lost apart of herself at twelve years old, a part of her that Marcus Kane missed deeply.

"Doing good and being good are two different things, Bell." Olivia whispered, her hands finding his with a desperate need to comfort the both of them simultaneously. "For what it's worth, I didn't know your mother very well, but I saw the way she looked at you, the way she talked about Octavia even. You could be the worst person in the world Bellamy, and as long as you recognized that, she would be proud. It meant you listened to something she said. That's the funny thing about parents, they don't really care about what you do, they only care that you lived and you learned."

Bellamy's hand twitched beneath Olivia's when he realized just how her hands trembled. Her face had lost off its color, her eyes somehow even dimmer then they had been when he left. Bellamy's gut coiled in guilt for not having noticed sooner, his worry immediately drawn to Olivia rather then himself.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy pondered, his voice thick with a blend of emotions that only humanized him more. His eyes were drawn to Olivia's, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on her hand when he felt her body flinch at the question.

"Those nuts, they must have expired. It's a common thing for hallucinogenic properties to secrete from beans and berries; especially on a radiation soaked planet." Olivia rambled shyly, her voice soft as she tried to recoil into herself. Her cheeks flushed at the attention, her hands growing clammy in Bellamy's as tears filled her eyes for the third time that day.

"What did you see?" Bellamy gently brought his hand up to cup Olivia's head, allowing her to melt into his side. He'd never vocalize his needs, but all Bellamy Blake craved was to feel like he was needed, and Olivia gave him that clarity. "Ollie, it's okay." Bellamy panicked when he noticed the way her breath drew in sharply and her eyes squeezed shut. A tear fell down her cheek, burning her skin as it fell.

Olivia's lip trembled, but she figured their was no harm in revealing even more of herself to Bellamy Blake. She had nothing to loose anymore, her will to thrive dwindling as the minutes passed. "Their was a reason why I was accepted into the cadet program nearly three years early, and it wasn't just because of my fathers position on the council."

Bellamy frowned, picking up on the fact that Olivia didn't want to talk about it any more. Olivia squirmed as her eyes landed on the dead body, her hands clenching around Bellamy's as if that would somehow provide her with comfort for not only Dax's death, but Michael's.

"Whenever your ready, you can tell me." Bellamy offered up the advice gently, hating the way his confidence crumbled whilst in the sole presence of Olivia Kane.

The girl had the ability to make even the most guarded person feel as though she could see right through them. Olivia could expose all of Bellamy's weaknesses without hesitation, he's given her enough reason to, and yet time and time again she proved that she wouldn't.

Olivia Kane would be the very reason that the remaining hundred would live long healthy lives on the ground. The hundred wouldn't be happy, but they'd at least have peace. Eventually.

——

                                                Olivia and Bellamy had sat beneath that tree for hours, allowing the dirt to stain their palms and the breeze to wash away their guilt as best it could. The both of them overwhelmed by the memories they'd reencountered. Bellamy gripped multiple bags of guns, Olivia heaving behind him as she carried along her own necessities of med-kits and blankets. Both Bellamy and Olivia had different standards of surviving, yet they weren't opposed to the rightfulness of the other.

Olivia sighed softly as she looked up towards Bellamy, her green eyes clouded dread. Her freckles were a maze in the glistening moonlight, the pure overstimulation of recent events and injuries corrupting her ability to think with a level-head. Despite the facade Bellamy was attempting to rebuild, he bent down, softly squaring his eyes with Olivia's with hopes to connect their unspoken humanity.

"Are you ever going to calm down, Bambi?" Bellamy teased, his words meant to reassure Olivia, and they did just that, her lips twisting upwards into a small smile.

"I like it better when you call me, Ollie." She huffed. Never once had she pictured herself being comforted by Bellamy Blake and his obscene nicknames, though something about the way Bellamy uttered Ollie sounded right. "Humor me for a minute, okay?" She asked, anxiety clear in her tone despite her attempts to try and calm herself. Bellamy noticed this, smiling softly to himself before nodding, giving Olivia confirmation to ask her question.

"Any particular meaning behind Octavia?" Olivia shyly pondered, her fingertips tangling within the fraying edges of the duffles. "The only reason I asked is because my father used to read me a book about a King—"

"—A King named Augustus, and his fierce sister Octavia." Bellamy cut in with a large smile, his eyes shinning beneath the stars that had once bought them both so much misery. "My mom and I would spend our nights reading old stories, mythology mostly, Augustus was always my favorite to learn about."

Olivia frowned softly as she looked down. Despite the warmth that spread in her chest at Bellamy's revelations, her guilt became unbearable as his words struck a chord within her chest. "My dad told me all about how my mother loved Greek Mythology. She had an entire collection of stories, her favorite was the Odyssey."

Bellamy's smile fell into place with a sad smirk, his eyes drifting downwards to the guns in his hands. His mother would be horrified by what he's become, though talking about Aurora with someone other then Octavia was liberating. The darkness had reigned within him for far to long. "My mother's was the Iliad."

Olivia finally mustered up enough courage to show Bellamy the tears streaming down her face, her lip trembling for the umpteenth time that day. "My names the only true thing she ever gave to me." Olivia laughed through tears, her own gratitude for Bellamy's understanding presence immense. "She found it in some stupid baby book, but she though it sounded like Olympus."

"It's beautiful." Bellamy offered a genuine smile, nudging his shoulder against Olivia's before he stood tall, the makeshift walls of the camp not far from sight. "Alright, suck it up, Bambi. We've got delinquents to arm."

Olivia rolled her eyes at Bellamy's heavy handed assertion of dominance. His love for order stemmed from an unruly upbringing, one that still haunted him despite the arrogant smirks and mindless gunfires. Bellamy Blake wasn't half the man he portrayed himself as, rather a man who had been broken one to many times. Olivia enjoyed being one of the few people that knew that, finding it even more heartwarming.

"Let the grounders come!" Bellamy announced arrogantly, laying the guns at his feet. Kids crowded around him, naturally drawn to his authoritative presence, though the added essence of guns only added to their captivation.

Olivia spotted Octavia in the crowd, her lips twitching upwards in relief for the familiar face. Despite Bellamy's comfort, she'd missed the feminine touch of his younger sister, who always seemed to know what to say, especially when it came to the heavy hold of pasts. Slipping away from Bellamy, Olivia attached herself to Octavia's side. A gentle smile pulled at her lips, comfort visibly seeping through Olivia's posture as she relaxed into the familiarity.

"You okay?" Octavia whispered, ignoring her brothers speech about surviving against the grounders. Olivia had always been important to Octavia, though seeing the visible affect the grounds had on her, it was as if she grew even more protective for the younger girl who'd never shown her anything but kindness.

"Those nuts were not my friend." Olivia groaned, her head falling to Octavia's shoulder in pure defeat. The day had gotten the best of her, and shamefully she had let it. "It's my birthday." She added noticing the way Octavia inevitably tensed at the reminder of what had happened to Elliott Greyson seventeen years ago. "Everything's just been so messed up today, O."

Octavia sighed, tightening her hold on Olivia's trembling hand. The skin was clammy and cold, the only true signs of Olivia's rising panic. "Just another day on the ground then isn't it?"

Olivia nodded tightly, her eyes avoiding Bellamy's despite his clear gaze on her. Octavia noticed the tense exchange of deep emotion between the two, frowning up at Bellamy before she looked down at Olivia who was clearly fighting back tears. As if a protective switch had been flipped with her, Octavia wrapped her arms around Olivia before leading her away from the crowd.

Olivia Kane was just a broken girl trying to act like she had everything perfectly put together.

——

Just as Octavia had coaxed a very disoriented Olivia to sleep, Clarke came barreling into the drop ship with worry etched across her features. Her hands were trembling at her side, her face pale as she tried to spot out a specific person in the crowd. Octavia stood from the chair she was once sat in, instead moving to meet Clarke in the middle.

"Have you seen Olivia? I just spoke with Kane and Jaha." Clarke asked, her eyes widening as she realized that for the first time in days, Olivia was peacefully sleeping tucked away into the corner. Despite the many long days the junior cadet had spent on the ground, the only time she got any rest was when consciousness physically failed her. It was beginning to grow worrisome, especially for Clarke who'd bore witness to her obscene patterns of grief beforehand.

"She's pushing herself to hard, Clarke." Octavia breathed out deeply. The Blake girl didn't show her emotions often, especially not to people like Clarke, though her genuine worry for Olivia only intensified with every glance down to her bandaged hands. "She's going to end up dead before the Ark can even come down here if she keeps pushing herself so hard."

Clarke frowned at Octavia's observation. The blonde had been so wrapped up in perpetual boy drama, negligence overcame her thoughts when it came to Olivia and her health concerns. "Has she eaten anything? She looks pale." Clarke noted, looking towards Octavia for a moment before stepping closer to Olivia. Her small body was curled up beneath a multitude of blankets, the heavy heat providing her with a feeling of safety.

"She had some of the nuts, but Clarke I think something happened when she was out with Bellamy. The both of them aren't acting right." Octavia muttered feeling less then heard as she stood beside Clarke, wincing when the stubborn blonde pressed the back of her hand to Olivia's forehead. The last thing either girl wanted was to wake Olivia before her body was ready.

"Bellamy just got pardoned for his crimes. He said Olivia talked him into facing Jaha, something about the Iliad, I don't really know what he was saying. Between the guns and the pounding headache I have, everything's a bit fuzzy." The blonde was never one to complain about her own health, but she was too busy fussing over Olivia to notice the words falling from her own mouth, or small smile that overcame Octavia's features. It was something as little as a book title, however it meant so much more to the Blake's, especially Bellamy who carried the words against his heart with everything he did.

"She's a little warm, it's probably just from the blankets though, god knows she never used to be able to have enough. We'd have sleepovers and my mom would worry about her suffocating beneath the duvet's." Clarke's frown broke into a small smile at the memory, though her reminiscing didn't last much longer then a few mere seconds. "Do me a favor, keep an eye on her? I don't want her in here alone."

Octavia nodded, hardly bothered by the task of watching over her friend. They'd grown distant since their time on the ground, an empty ache filling Octavia's stomach with guilt. Olivia Kane had always been gentle as a summer breeze, though the ground was nothing but a brutal midnight hurricane. She put up a strong fight to maintain her peaceful mantra, though it was easy to see surrender was creeping up beside her.

[broomballkraken]

Title: Excuses, Excuses, Chapter 4: Heart-Racing Rivalry

Fandom: Pokemon Sword/Shield

Pairing: Milo/Nessa

Word count: 2400

Warnings: None

Summary: Excuse #4: A Heart-Racing Rivalry. Nessa is feeling down about her losses to the champion-endorsed trainers, but luckily Milo is there to pick her back up, as he always is.

Nessa was well aware of her position as the second Gym Leader in the Galar region. Her team that she used in her gym battles was considerably weaker than her best team, the one that had seen her to victory in her own Gym Challenge. She knew this, and she knew that she was most likely going to lose most of these matches. Still, it didn’t hurt any less when she lost, and it especially stung being defeated in back-to-back matches.

A deep sigh broke the tranquil silence of the night as Nessa leaned forward on the bench, her elbows resting on her thighs so that she could hold her head in her hands. It was mostly dark, save for the light from a few lamp posts, and the light from the lighthouse that swung around above her at a steady pace. For as long as she could remember, she had always come to sit in solitude by the lighthouse when she was feeling down. Listening to the waves crash against the breakwall always seemed to soothe her troubled mind.

“Ah, here you are Nessa!”

Eyes wide with surprise, Nessa lifted her head to see Milo standing in front of her, his bright smile seeming to pierce through the darkness of the night. She sat up straight as a dusting of pink appeared on her face. She had forgotten that Milo had come to watch her matches, and the pink quickly darkened to red as a wave of embarrassment flooded through her. Ugh, she felt worse about her losses now that she remembered that he had seen it all, but Nessa was confused as to why that was.

“Hey,” was her simple response, and she averted her gaze to the ground as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her shoulders slumped as another dejected sigh escaped her, and she heard the bench creak slightly as Milo sat down. They sat in silence for a while, and Nessa closed her eyes as the tension she felt slowly started to leave her body. Milo always seemed to have a calming effect on her and he didn’t even have to say anything, and she was grateful for that.

“It’s a really nice night.” Milo said, finally breaking the silence. Nessa glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and found that he was staring with wide eyes up at the star-filled sky. “Golly, even though Hullbury is bigger than Turffield, you can still see the stars just as good here!” Milo shot a toothy grin her way, and Nessa’s dour mood was lifted slightly, but it was not enough to bring a smile to her face.

“Yeah...nights have always been beautiful here.” Nessa said, her gaze shifting back to the ground as she uncrossed her arms and hugged her legs to her chest. She felt Milo’s eyes upon her, and she flinched when she felt a gentle hand fall onto her shoulder.

“Hey, Ness?” Milo said softly, and she finally turned to meet his gaze. His green eyes were completely focused on her, shining with an unusual amount of intensity that made her heart jump into her throat.

When he was sure that he had her full attention, he continued, “We’re friends...no, best friends, right? So you should know by now that you can talk to me about anything. Especially about things that are bothering you.” An emotion that she could not name suddenly flooded through Nessa, and she almost felt like crying. She managed to pull herself together though, and a ghost of a smile tugged at her lips.

“I...I know, Milo. Thanks.” Nessa said, her voice dropping to a whisper. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she placed her hand over Milo’s that was still resting on her shoulder.

“I just…” she continued, biting at her bottom lip as she tried to find the right words. “I know that I’m just the second Gym Leader. I know that I’m statistically going to lose most of my matches. It still frustrates me. Every loss does.” She stood suddenly, and Milo’s hand slipped from her shoulder as she started pacing in front of the bench where he still sat.

“I completed my Gym Challenge, sure, but I was knocked out in the first round of the Champion Tournament.” Nessa continued, her brow furrowing as she continued to pace. “And it’s been a really long time since I won any of my exhibition matches with the other Gym Leaders. Hell, I think the last time I did win was when I fought Kabu last, and I have the type advantage against him, so that hardly counts!”

“Ugh, I’m just so frustrated!” Nessa ranted on. She let out an aggravated grumble as she stopped her pacing, hands flying to her head as she shook it back and forth. Her eyes squeezed shut as her fingers curled into fists against her hair. “I always get destroyed by the likes of Raihan, Piers, and even Gordie! I have the type advantage over him and I can’t even win with my best team!” Nessa threw her head back and groaned as she dragged her hands down her face.

“I just feel like...I’m stagnating as a trainer. That I’m not...good enough for the position of Gym Leader...” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she dropped her arms to her sides and stared down at the ground. She did feel a little better, having given voice to her frustrations, but her stomach still churned uncomfortably with her sour mood, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut.

A sudden warmth engulfed Nessa’s hands, and her eyes opened again, to the sight of Milo standing in front of her, his hands holding hers. She blinked owlishly as her breath caught in her throat, and her heartbeat quickened as his thumbs brushed lightly over her knuckles. She hesitated a moment, before swallowing thickly and lifting her head so that her gaze met his. A small smile was sitting on his freckled face, those big emerald eyes of his filled with a patient understanding.

“Do you want to know what I think, Ness?” Milo asked softly as he gave her hands a gentle squeeze. She opened her mouth to respond, but found that a lump had formed in her throat, so all she could do was nod slightly.

“I think...that you are a really, really competitive person.” Milo began. Nessa’s face scrunched up at that, and Milo chuckled as he shook his head. “That’s not a bad thing, you know. Far from it. You are always pushing yourself to be better and better, and to be honest, it really shows. You may not think so, but I’ve seen subtle improvements in your matches, especially against Raihan.” Nessa blinked at him and tilted her head, not knowing what he meant by that.

“Oh come on, you have to know what I’m talking about!” Milo continued, his smile growing wider. “The last match you had against Raihan, you managed to knock out two of his Pokemon! Before then you couldn’t knock out any! That’s a huge improvement.”

“I...I guess you have a point…” Nessa finally managed to say, and she averted her gaze, suddenly feeling really silly for getting so worked up about all of this. “Sorry Milo, for getting upset.”

“Oh, don’t apologize!” Milo said, shaking his head. “Everyone has their insecurities, and I know that talking through them really helps me out. I’m always happy to help you out when you need me, Nessa.” A slight smile returned to her face, and Milo beamed at her.

“Ah, there’s that pretty smile! Happiness really is the best look for you, Ness!”

Nessa’s smile grew exponentially, and she glanced down at her hands, which were still being held in Milo’s much bigger ones, and she felt her face heat up. Her eyes wandered back up to lock with his, and she took note at how pretty they were. Strange that she never really noticed before...She felt a fire suddenly ignite in her chest, and she suddenly knew what she wanted to do. Her hands slipped from his and moved up to his face...before jerking up to grab his hat and pluck it from his head.

“Hey!” Milo said, eyes wide with surprise when Nessa placed his hat on her head and ran to the breakwall, turning back around as a wave hit the wall with jarring force, sending some water over the edge and onto Nessa. She grinned at Milo, who was staring at her with an eyebrow raised, and she pulled out a Dive Ball and thrust her arm in his direction.

“If you want your hat back, you’re gonna have to battle me, with your best team. And win.” Nessa said, a fire blazing in her sapphire eyes as they locked with his. A huge smile slowly spread across his face and he laughed.

“Are you sure, Ness? I have the type advantage over you, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I know. I also know that if I can win against you, then I can win against anyone.” Nessa was surprised at the amount of conviction in her own voice, but she liked it, and her heart began to race when Milo plucked an Ultra Ball from his belt.

“Alright, but I won’t go easy on you, you know.”

“I would never want you to. I’d actually be really mad if you did.”

“I know.”

Milo winked at her, causing Nessa to laugh, before a serious look crossed her face. They stared at each other for a moment, before Poke balls flew through the air, and their evening seaside Pokemon battle had begun.

...And in the end, Nessa was thoroughly defeated.

As she returned her fainted Drednaw to its Poke ball, Milo returned his Appletun and walked up to her. She had only managed to take out one of his Pokemon, and even her Pelipper and Golisopod didn’t stand a chance, despite having a duel type with an advantage over grass.

“That was a good match!” Milo said, grinning when Nessa pulled his hat off of her head and placed it back onto his.

“I guess. You kicked my ass. I’ve still got a long way to go until I finally beat you. You’ll make a damn good rival, Milo.” Nessa said, holding her hand out to him. Milo grabbed it and shook it firmly, and he gasped in surprise when Nessa pulled him into a tight hug. She pressed her face into his soft, fluffy hair, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Tears welled up in her eyes as she sniffed, and she felt Milo rest his chin on her shoulder.

“It’s okay Ness. Just let it all out, I’m here for you.” he whispered in her ear. That was enough to break the dam holding her feelings in, and she cried as his arms embraced her, large, warm hands rubbing soothing circles over her back. The tightness in her stomach finally unwound, and was replaced by an incredible warmth, that only Milo could provide, Nessa realized, and the exact reason why eluded her.

When her tears had finally dried, she pulled away, one hand on Milo’s shoulder as the other went to her face to wipe away the lingering tears. A gust of wind blew past them, causing Nessa to shiver, and Milo chuckled and removed his scarf.

“Here, you’ll catch a cold.” he said as he wrapped it around her neck. Nessa’s felt her face heat up, and she suspected that it did not have to do with the warm scarf that was just given to her. She smiled down at him as he adjusted the scarf until it was snug, and he dropped his hands to his sides.

“Thanks, Milo.” Nessa said, and before she even knew what she was doing, she leaned over and placed a light kiss on Milo’s cheek.

Time seemed to stop as Nessa tried to process what she had just done, and when she did, her eyes went wide, gaze falling to the ground, and she balked. She did not just do what she thought she did. Nessa gulped and barely managed to look back up at Milo, who was just staring at her, eyes out of focus as if he was in a trance, and his jaw hung slightly open. Oh...Oh no.

“Er, um...It’s getting late! We should, uh, g-go get some sleep!” Nessa sputtered, laughing nervously as she pat Milo’s shoulder. Oh Arceus! What an embarrassing thing to do out of the blue! The slight physical contact seemed to snap Milo out of his daze, and he blinked a few times before he nodded.

“Y-Yeah, good idea. It’s, ah, getting a bit cold. I’ll, uh, walk you home?” Milo said, smiling sheepishly as he held out his hand to her, a cute blush spreading across his face. Nessa felt her face heat up as well, but she couldn’t help but smile and place her hand in his.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” she said, and they started off down the road together.

“Oh! How do you think those two trainers will do against Kabu?” Milo asked, glancing at Nessa out of the corner of his eye.

“Hmm, well he’s the toughest out of the three of us, obviously. His Gym Challenge is where a lot of the new challengers see the end of their journeys. The old man is not one to be underestimated.” Nessa responded, and Milo chuckled.

“You know he doesn’t like being called ‘old man.’”

“Well, he doesn’t need to know about it. You better not tell him.”

“Ha! My lips are sealed!”

As their conversation turned to making plans to see Kabu’s match against the champion-endorsed trainers together, Nessa was feeling...elated? Giddy? She wasn’t sure what the right word to describe how she was feeling was. Her heart was racing, butterflies were taking flight in her stomach, and she felt a kind of happiness that she had never, ever felt before. And maybe, just maybe, it had something - no, everything - to do with Milo, her best friend, heated rival, and maybe...something more?

[mothmanhamlet]

Backstage

Analogical/minor Royality. 3254. Band au. No warnings, minus like 1 curse word (If I’m wrong, let me know).

Roman drags Logan to a concert, and a guitarist catches Logan’s eye.

Logan knew where he was going when he saw the two tickets taped to a poster on the counter. Logan understood what was about to transpire when his all-too-extra roommate Roman Prince explained incessantly about the singer he had met two months prior. But it was not until he was painted with eyeliner, dragged out the door, and sat down in a creaky wooden chair that he really understood what an ordeal it would be. His roommate had dragged him to some anthology style concert in a run down theatre 30 minutes from their university. Not because he was a lover of up-and-coming indie bands, but because of someone who was participating.

Despite the impracticality of it all, it actually looked rather lovely. Only the first ten rows or so were filled, but they were tightly packed with people. The lights were soft and slowly switching from blue to red to green and back again, several posters and fairy lights adorning the wall. It looked slightly out of place in the classic theater with everything decorated as though it either belonged with a fairy or grungy 90’s teenager. An unusual combination, but oddly enough it worked.

Roman made his way into the row of chairs, coming back from whatever it was he seemed to be doing. It was probably chatting up strangers, knowing him. Roman had a talent for that, getting people to pay attention to him. It was an admirable trait until paying attention to Roman turned into paying attention to Logan, who much preferred being left alone.

“Hey, pocket protector, did ya miss me?” Roman said with a wink. He was the essence of flamboyance and flair, dressed in something just normal enough to not be a prince costume, red glitter spread across his cheekbones, eyes, and hair. Truthfully it was the least extravagant night time outfit in a while. Still, it made Logan feel underdressed, just wearing jeans, a polo shirt, and tie. Plus some poorly applied eyeliner.

“Salutations Roman. The host seems to have made an announcement about that band you wanted to see. He mentioned they were performing next,” Logan said in a near monotone voice. Roman’s eyes lit up at the mention.

“The one Patt’s in? Fantastic! You’ll love it Logan, and Patton is so amazing, he has the best voice and adds such feeling to the lyrics and-” Roman started to ramble, only to be cut of by Logan.

“You’ve already told me this many times Roman,” Logan said bluntly. Those speeches could last half an hour easily. Quickly Logan added, “And you call me the geek.”

“That was harsh, Microsoft Nerd.”

“My apologies, was that too ‘Savage’ of me?” Logan asked, producing a small vocabulary card from his pocket.

“I regret giving you those,” Roman laughed, rolling his eyes. The music grew quieter and all eyes drifted up to the stage. A tall man wearing a yellow button up shirt with a black bow tie and bowler hat strolled up to the front. He had an odd scar across the side of his face that resembled snakeskin.

“Thank you Dragon-Witch for your… Intriguing performance. Next up is,” The man gave the backstage a side-eye before scoffing and rolling his eyes, “The Insomniacs.”

The room blacked out for a moment, leaving thuds and light footsteps in the darkness. When the lights came back on  the stage was occupied by three men standing center stage who looked drastically different.

The first, presumably the drummer by the sticks he was twirling like a fairy wand, was wearing dark, dark sunglasses that completely obscured his eyes, and besides the lipstick, was dressed rather plainly. The oddest thing about his outfit was the shirt he was wearing, plain white with a thick black font writing “SLEEP”. If Logan was being honest, he just looked like a tiring person.

The next was slightly shorter, with rounder features. He was wearing glasses not unlike Logan’s that were sat upon freckles that were extremely noticeable, even from where Logan was sitting. He was wearing a light blue polo with a cardigan tied over his shoulders like a cape. He looked rather cutesy, bursting at the seams with bubbly energy.

Then there was the last. The final man was dressed in dark clothing, black and a purple color that matched his hair. His clothing was slightly tattered, his hair a little messy, and wearing enough makeup to surprise even Roman. Just like the freckles on the second man, the eyeshadow he put under his eyes was probably visible from space He looked a bit like a rock star: intense, chaotic, and undeniably attractive. Objectively, of course.  This had to be Patton.

“Hi! We’re The Insomniacs,” Loud cheering cut through the man’s excited voice, which was surprising considering the few people in the room, “and we are so happy to be here tonight! As always, we’re gonna play three songs for you guys, two covers and one that we wrote ourselves.”

The man with the sunglasses casually strolled over to the drum set, where a precariously placed Starbucks was waiting for him on top of the bass. How anyone could manage to balance it, Logan would never know. The man who was presumably Patton walked intently in the other direction, swinging a guitar out from behind him, while the freckled man stayed, center stage, resting his hands around the microphone.

Wait. Roman definitively said “singer”, not guitarist. How had he not noticed the strap before? Must have been distracted by something. Maybe the lights. Maybe the background noise. Maybe the man’s face. But either way, Patton couldn’t be him, unless he was both guitarist and singer, which was unlikely. Patton had to be the cutesy man standing center stage.

Sure enough, the music started playing. First, the band played a more Rock n’ Roll version of some pop song Logan barely recognized. Everyone else loved it though. Roman was right, Patton did have a lovely voice. Logan, however felt his eyes being dragged just to the left of him, to the guitarist. He looked so confident playing, like any worry of messing up was infinitesimal. He was also extremely skilled at the guitar, so there was that too.

The next song they played was different, more upbeat. It was a little older, a little more repetitive, a little happier. It also happened to make the three men dance a little. Patton did some simple swaying movements with overly flamboyant hand gestures. Honestly, it reminded him of a dad dance mixed with Roman’s personality. Eyeshadow-Guitar-Man was just bopping his head up and down, the fakest bright grin plastered on his face. It was extremely clear that he did not seem to want to perform that particular song. Even Sunglasses was doing a little bop to the tune. People in the audience even started to dance along, lip-syncing along to the lyrics.

Finally, the song ended and the room quieted. The lights started to dim even further as ukulele started to play and a spotlight was placed on Patton. Logan looked over to see Roman had leaned forward in his seat, staring in anticipation

The song was softer and calmer than the last two, with Patton’s vocals coming through clear and melancholy. Sunglasses had almost fully transitioned to being backup vocals and Eyeshadow Guitarist had quietly set down the purple guitar and picked up a similarly colored acoustic one, a rather illogical thing to do, but the song sounded pleasant. Everyone in the room started to be a little calmer than before.

Logan looked at the guitarist and saw him tilt his head to the side and then wink right near him. After a moment, Logan realized he was looking at Roman, but for a split second, he thought he winked at him. The thought put a not unpleasant feeling in his chest.

 Wait, is this attraction? 

Logan felt a slight panic at the thought. It’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything. You’ll be fine. Logan tried to reassure himself. Sure he was pretty, but that was all that it was, right?

The song ended, the lights going out fully for a second as applause flowed freely from the crowd. When the lights quickly came back on, all three members of the band were strolling over to center stage. Patton was waving, excitedly and wildly whilst grinning ear to ear. Much to Logan’s confusion, Sunglasses was  still drinking  the cup from earlier. Perhaps he simply enjoys carrying it? 

They all carried their things offstage, at least those who had things to carry, and the announcer from earlier walked back on, no happier than before.

“Great job everyone, what a  thrilling  performance,” The man said, wearing quite possibly the most forced grin of Logan’s life. Which was impressive, considering Logan had to go to  several parties with Roman’s theatre friends. “Moving on, now it is time for our next act… Joan and The Beanies”

Just as people started to wheel off the drum set, Roman jumped up and grabbed Logan’s hand.

“Alright, pocket protector, it’s time for you to meet Patton,” Roman said, giving Logan no time to argue before starting to drag him. Weaving through several people, Roman pulled Logan to an older wooden door that was slightly obscured by a red curtain.

Roman put his hand on the doorknob, attempting to twist it before giving up and knocking. Not long after the door creaked open, leaving the two men staring at the announcer from earlier who looked, not surprisingly, annoyed. This look was amplified by his scar, which gave him a surprisingly snaky appearance.

“Oh, it’s just you,” The man said, opening the door so they could enter. It was a long hallway with a table in the center, quite a few people sat around it, with some sitting on the chairs that littered the sides.

“Hey Dee, good to see you! Any words of wisdom for your pal Roman?” Roman said, being overly dramatic as usual, something that was not well received by the announcer.

“Society is a lie, Justice is a fraud, Morality is meaningless, and I have so many better things to do than talk to you, ” he said with a flick of his wrist. The movement exposed a name tag on the side of his shirt that read “Deceit” in thick block letters. 

“Excuse me, but if you don’t mind me asking, why does your name tag say “Deceit”? Is that your name?” Logan interjected, stopping the man from leaving.

The person in question rolled his eyes, as he turned to face Logan, “No, my name is most certainly not  Deceit of all things. What I asked for was D.C. however, some people are moronic staplers paired with, and I quote,” The man, D.C. apparently, cleared his throat and lowered his voice to have the tone of a stereotypical surfer who was trying to be a hippie, “Declan is like, a really hard name, and autocorrect is like, totally a bitch.” 

With that Declan turned around and walked away, leaving Roman to search for Patton and his band. The romantic theatrics seemed like overkill to Logan, but as someone who just felt attraction a few seconds ago, maybe he shouldn’t judge. Okay, that was a little extra of him, maybe he should talk to someone other than Roman sometimes.

After a few seconds of rigorous search, Roman spotted his beloved. Running after him, Roman consumed Patton in a hug, a public display of affection no one seemed to notice or care about.  Besides their drummer, who was standing all too close, and nearly dropped his drink before returning to stare at his phone.

As the two separated, Patton looked up and directly at Logan. He smiled brightly, instant recognition flashing on his face.

“You must be Logan! Oh I’ve heard so much about you!” Patton said, motioning for him to come closer. The second he got close enough, Patton grabbed his hand to shake it.

“Patton Smith, it’s so nice to meet you,” he said, aggressively cheerful. Patton turned around and called out a name Logan didn’t recognize.

“Virgil! Get your butt over here!” he shouted, waving his hands around vigorously. The guitarist from earlier casually walked over.

“Virgil? Like the roman poet Virgil?” Logan asked, turning to the man. Up close he was taller than Logan. To be fair, they were all taller than Logan, as Logan was rather “vertically challenged” or as Roman preferred to call it, “shorter than his temper”.

“Yeah, it’s a weird name, but my parents were really into literature,” Virgil said, looking almost embarrassed at his name.

“It’s a fascinating name, Virgil, not only is your namesake a poet but he is also used in Dante’s Divine Comedy in which he…” Logan started to ramble out, stopping when he noticed the look on Roman’s face, “Maybe that’s a story for another day.”

The drummer finally looked up and noticed the two newcomers.

“Oh hey girl, what’s up?” He said, winking at Roman. He turned to Logan and eyed him up and down, “Who is this?”

“My name is Logan Gray, I’m a friend of Roman’s,” He said extending a hand. Sunglasses shook it quickly.

“Fun. I’m Remy.” Remy said with a wink. Up close, the drummer had a clear undercut and smelled like the inside of a Starbucks.

“Lovely,” Logan said, as he turned back to talk to Patton. Unfortunately, Patton was already busy talking to Roman. What they were discussing Logan may never know, however, they were extremely excited about it. As he glanced back, Remy had also left to go to some unknown place.

That left him with Virgil. The man was looking down at his shoes, a pair of slightly beat up purple converse. Logan decided to break the silence.

“What is it like playing the guitar?” Logan blurted out in a tone blunter than he had hoped for.

Virgil looked up suddenly, surprised that someone was talking to him.

“It’s nice,” he said, throwing an awkward smile in Logan’s direction, “I started playing when I was in middle school, so it’s pretty much natural at this point. Honestly, it’s really therapeutic, especially when I get worked up about something and can’t sleep, just to focus my energy into one thing.”

Logan nodded along, listening intently. “You said something about not being able to sleep, does this happen often?”

“God, you sound like my therapist,” Virgil laughed, rolling his eyes, “But yeah, I guess. Patton’s certainly better than I am about sleeping, but I’m at least not as bad as Remy.”

“So none of you sleep well?” Logan asked, one eyebrow raised, “At least that explains the name.”

“I mean yeah, we don’t have much in common, and you can’t exactly name a band “Caffeine Addicts”, according to Patt at least,”

“You all are coffee enthusiasts?”

“Rem is, but I’m more of a tea guy, and Patton’s into chocolate, if that counts. You?”

“Tea is quite enjoyable when accompanying a good book.”

“Of course. Favorite book?”

“A Study In Scarlet, or Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, yourself?”

“Sherlock, huh. Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Frankenstein is a good choice too. I’m also into classic horror, so I guess my favorite would have to be Twilight.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that one before. I’ll have to look it up.”

Virgil blinked at Logan in disbelief. He glanced over at Roman, who was having a conversation with Patton, and back to Logan. “You live with  him, and you’ve never heard of Twilight.”

“I’m afraid not,” Logan said, “What is it about?”

“The forbidden romance between a human, a werewolf, and a sparkly vampire in the small town of Forks.”

“Oh my.” 

“Yeah, It’s something,” Virgil said with a laugh

“And this book is your favorite? Classic horror, you said,”  Logan said, clearing his throat.

“What? Oh no, sorry that was a joke,” Virgil said, looking a little bit flustered.

Logan felt a little bad about that. He knew he was too literal sometimes and he knew it made other people uncomfortable sometimes. He just… couldn’t pick up on things sometimes.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Virgil said, almost reading his mind, “So what’s your major?”

“Astronomy, how about yourself?” Logan said, stopping himself from monologuing about it. People usually get disinterested after a sentence or two.

“I study psychology, I want to be a therapist later on. But you study  space ? That’s so cool! Tell me about it,” Virgil said, getting a little bit excited.

“Well, astronomers estimate there are around 300 billion stars in the milky way galaxy alone, each of those stars having a life of billions of years. And stars are mostly just hydrogen and helium with churning nuclear forges in its core. Also, different temperature stars have different colors, with higher temperature stars having a color of blue or white while lower temperatures are usually orange or red. And-” Logan started to ramble, before catching himself, “Sorry, I’m rattling on again, aren’t I?”

“No, I’ve just never seen someone get so excited about stars before. It’s- it’s charming, actually,” Virgil said, blushing ever so slightly.

Logan, despite himself, also started to blush. Maybe his small attractions weren’t as worthless as he thought.

“Mi amor, parting is such sweet sorrow, alas, I must bid you farewell,” Roman said extravagantly to a giggling Patton and an annoyed Declan. “Lo, come on, let’s go.”

Logan turned back to Virgil, who seemed to be searching his purple hoodie’s pocket for something. After a short struggle, he produced a small white card.

“It was, uh, really nice talking to you Logan,” Virgil said, his hands fidgeting, “Here’s my number, if you ever want to talk again. I do happen to know a bookstore that doubles as a coffee shop if you ever want to read Twilight. But if you don’t that’s also completely fine”

Virgil held out the white card, waiting until Logan reached out and grabbed it. It read  The Insomniacs~ Virgil Sanders - Guitarist followed by a phone number, email, and Instagram.

“Yes, that would be extremely enjoyable,” Logan said in a manner that was better put together than he felt at the moment.

“Let’s go pocket protector,” Roman said impatiently, tapping on his non-existent watch.

Logan waved goodbye to Virgil, Remy, Patton, and even Declan. Walking back down the hall and out the door into the main area, Roman strolled next to him and leaned down.

“So, do you think he likes me?” Roman asked in an almost childish manner. Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Roman, I can attest that even  I  saw that he had romantic intentions towards you,” Logan said, looking directly at Roman, eyebrows arched in disbelief. This time, it was Roman’s turn to laugh.

The two meandered out the door and over to where Roman’s slightly beat up, but still somehow bright red, car was parked. As they both got in, Roman turned to Logan again.

“Thank you for coming with me, by the way. And I’m glad you got along with Panic-At-The-Everywhere,” Roman said, surprisingly sincerely.

“It was no problem, Roman, no need to worry about it,” Logan replied, remembering the little card he was holding on to.

So Logan may have been a little apprehensive about the event at first, however it did let Logan meet a few people, including someone interesting who thought Logan was interesting as well. Someone who wanted to talk to him again.

Maybe Roman’s theatrics weren’t so bad after all.

[deviationdivine]

DBH After Dark #4

Night Drabbles Previews | DBH After Dark’s Spicy Offerings

TW: Smut, Language

A/N: 4th ‘DBH After Dark’ brought to you by sinful delights…

Biting, clawing feeds the inner animal of your spirit. Chewing on your bottom lip, muffling sweet mewls transforming a human vessel to a purring kitten. These sounds are luscious. These sounds are you. 

He absorbs the melody, flicking tongue in a savor of flesh. Tender, hot and thriving under sweet lips cool but striking a burning match.

Digging nails atop his large hands smoothing over the curves of your body imprints deeply down to plastic. Slender blue lines visibly glisten between your lover’s shoulder blades. Scratching into him before leaves a beautiful glow to low lighted room.

A violet hue crests over both of your writing forms. Neon lights shimmer in aesthetic glow, sweat rolling as you roll hips. If he could sweat beads of hypnotic indigo would drip slender, intricate and abstract. Painting upon a sinewy, lithe work of art that you crave to see out of his pristine jacket and tie.

Dancing, mingling in perfume of sex; steamy sways of nighttime Detroit seep from bedroom window. Left open to allow cool air in this humid summer eve. All you can focus on is the hot, tantalizing suck, devouring your clit in the divine sticky artificial saliva of his mouth.

The curl of his hair droops in a teasing kiss of his forehead. Messy invokes his frantic rhythm in a ruffle of perfectly combed strands. Itching to grip and tug more, your hand slides down where his head dips.

“Connor,” whining sweetly stirs his mission.

The android dives deeply with his tongue. Wanting to taste the core of you he loves so much. Designed to sample in real time he bypasses simple programming. 

In deviancy he learns, adapts and utilizes knowledge. This cannot be truer for long, illustrious nights where he sheds his prim uniform and unleashes his deepest developed desires.

Kissing the floral scent of you, slippery wet from the hum of his voice, pours humanity through a lean firm body. A body you love with mouth, hands and teeth. One covered in synthetic epidermis which you love to kiss delicately as though he were priceless, ancient and sculpted. Running fingertips middle of his chest in a long line stretching down to those upgrades you beg to be inside of you.

Connor grants your wish whenever you are of need. He offers whatever you desire because it is what he desires. To him you are the thrum of a constructed heart. A natural breath expanding non-existent lungs; he inhales you, wanton, and human.

You are the one who calls his name. Crying it, whispering it and pleading for him like no other. An android instead of a human is what you want. He will always want you.

“Fuck! Connor, I’m-!”

His fingers dig firmly holding down your hips. Thighs snap shut over his ears but he does not stop. The snug embrace leaves the RK800 groaning, vibrating his arousal deep down in his chest up against your slick heat. Running his tongue to slurp up every last drop, he forces your body down as you lose control in those beautiful tremors and strangling cries.

An operatic rise in tempo falls into a lower crescendo one the android detective growls to hear. He wants his name to sing into the city leaving your lips as a prayer. Whether it is to your god or Ra9 as long as Connor accomplishes his mission there is nothing sweeter to hear. 

Choking on pants leave you lax, completely swept in the torrential downpour. He is a thunder cloud roiling over your hills.

The slide of his hips rubbing against you only twists the pit of your stomach further. Slick between the sensitive flesh you know he’s teasing on purpose. 

Oh, he’s rock hard and delicious your sweet Connor. 

So loving, so tender are his sweet nothings huskily whispered to ear, professing his love to you in his deviant life. How you love him so. How you want this every night. 

Ohh but please, please, please! You want him to fuck you hard tonight.

Connor’s kisses ghost the inner flesh of thigh, moving thoroughly across your stomach with small pecks.

You inhale, opening eyes to dark chocolate. Connor cocks his head in that cute inquisitive way you adore, running fingers along the side of your body tracing contours and sweaty skin in a delicate but possessive stroke.

“You are stunning, My Heart.”

A giggle mixes with your sharp breaths. Such liquid gold melts from his expert lips, pink and plush with desire.

Fingers draw up and tease flesh, rubbing thumb atop your nipple. He shudders, rubbing his hips atop yours to feel your residual slick waiting for him.

Snapping your arms down to mattress, Connor shifts above still with his boyish smile lighting up features. Even as those rich eyes darken in lust and you gasp from pressure of his thigh leaning between legs. Pressing directly into groin, leaning further over to let you take in his freckle dusted figure. He is a painting of stars. Shimmering in all of his unnatural beauty but nothing can ever be wrong about the man you love. Android or not you only want him forever.

God, you want him to just fuck you already! He’s always such a goddamn tease. Negotiator ass!

“I detect a rise in stress, Love.” Connor’s voice deepens. His smile replaced in hungry need, flashing in a slow lick of tongue against his lips that ate every last bit of you.  Pressing down to meet your gaze directly, the android’s mouth curves in a grin.

Your breath hitches at the tender brush of his hard chest against pebbled nipples. Already growing slicker for his beautiful cock you succumb to that inner dominator. Of course he’s your sweet boyfriend but by God can he fuck the shit out of you if you ask.

Shit! Why are you thinking like this!? It only pumps the rate of your heart erratically.

Connor’s expression answers your suspicions. He already analyzed your vitals. 

Oh. Please. Fuck.

“Would you like,” he trails to place lips below your jaw. Nibbling up to earlobe, the android teases fragile flesh between teeth. “…me to use my tie, Y/N?”

A smile curls devilishly on your glistening lips. Moist from pressing them together anticipating what he will do. You nod a little too vigorous but it’s clear. Tonight you want him to tap into his negotiation protocols.

Immediately Connor’s tone changes as he tugs you upright by wrists and holding vice in his unyielding grip. “Tell me what I want to know and I will spare you repercussion!”

His growl sends a shiver through you. You moan from the tremble of his voice. That husk alone can get you off. 

“What will you do to me if I refuse?” Your breath slithers against his neck. “Detective?”

The sweet taunt stirs his predatory side, unleashing the machine from within. He unleashes upon you in dominance built into him for Cyberlife’s initial purpose. Fingers curl around your throat with a pleasurable squeeze. Only enough to make you teem with want.

“I will string you across the bed post,” he rumbles into the crook of your neck. 

Breathing artificial breath up along throat, he snarls into your ear. “I will spread your legs so far apart you won’t be able to feel them. As I fuck the information out of you. Again and again!” 

“Mmm,” a tiny huff gives away your neediness.

“I will open you so wide, Y/N,” the android sneers luscious. “Never stopping! Fucking you into a sobbing mess, no longer able to stand. Until I get what I want from you!”

Connor tosses you down to mattress, fusing both arms down above your head. No longer your sweet prince but a raging king tearing apart your most sacred flesh and you sacrifice it willingly. Honor your royalty who wants nothing more than to fulfill your filthiest fantasy. It only reminds you how much of that beast is still there. 

He will never hurt you. He will love you always and forever. But when you want him to bring out that cold negotiator, that prototype detective who will do anything to accomplish his mission it is the most holy. The most glory. Oh, he is glory on high and he takes you beyond the stratosphere.

“Oh, God, Connor! Yes! Please! Fuck me raw!”

He’s all too happy to give you what you want.

Tag List: @elydith  @your-taxidermy  @tropfenlady  @connorswink  @tommy-10-k

[plancinginthemoonlight]

Plancing in the Moonlight

((My first Plance one-shot on here I apologise if it sucks))

"Come on Keith, you look fine" Lance insisted.

It was their final night on Ieruta, and to celebrate the Ierutians were holding a traditional feast and party. They had even insisted the Paladins wear a traditional Ierutian garment for the party. This consisted of a white robe, trimmed with silver and blue, sinched in at the waist with a large brown belt. Well, at least the boys did. Allura and Pidge were yet to reveal what they were wearing.

"I look ridiculous." Keith sighed, stepping out from behind his door. Hunk waved his hand around,

"You look great, come on I wanna see what it's like!" He said, pulling Keith by his arm. Lance followed behind, grinning wildly at Keith's unimpressed expression.

They followed the King's instructions, walking out into the royal garden. The air was light and crisp, with glowing stars ripping through the darkening sky. The second moon could be seen rising just above the silver trees of garden. After finding their way through the garden they then walked down to the docks, several large battle galleons were seen floating gently on the crystal waters. Beside the high garden walls they could hear chanting, laughing and singing. Following their ears, the Paladins stumbled upon the location of the feast. Next to the waterfall that fell over the garden wall stood an enormous white tent, decorated in shimmering white lights. A huge fire burned fiercely in the centre of several other tents and tables, all strung with similar lights and lanterns. Villagers in their hundreds were located within the party area, singing and dancing, with the king sat a large wooden table in the largest tent. Beside him sat Lothwen, the captain of the fleet of ships. She was clothed in a flowing shirt, and deep brown leather trousers. Upon seeing the Paladins, Lothwen began to leave her seat.

"I hope you enjoy the festivities Paladins, for this is all for you. We owe you so much, we are unsure of how we can ever repay you," she raised her eyebrows. Keith held up his hand,

"It's our duty as the Paladins of Voltron to protect those in need, you have done enough for us already," he said kindly, shaking Lothwen's hand. She returned his handshake with a friendly smile, before turning back into the crowd to initiate the celebrations.

"Oh, hey guys," Lance heard the words leave Hunk's lips, and so turned on his heels. His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his lungs.

In the doorway of a smaller tent stood Allura and Pidge, both wearing similar attire. This consisted of a billowing white dress that hung off their shoulders, with a deep rose belt around the waist. Leather bracers hugged their wrists and ankles. Around both of their necks hung thin silver necklaces, and thin woven bands across sat across their foreheads. For the first time since Allura's subtle rejection, Lance felt something. Something odd. A fluttering sensation in his chest that he tried to extinguish with his hand.

Why?

Because for the first time since they met, Lance looked past Allura. He was seeing someone else in a different light. A warm hazy light. It was like months of heartache, pining and loneliness had been dislodged in a single moment. They had been taken over by painful butterflies, ones that had been unbeknownst to him until know.

Lance was seeing her not as Pidge the Green Paladin, but as Katie Holt. Maybe it was the way her hair was just right, or the glow of the lanterns in her deep honey eyes, or the moonlight catching on her lips. He wasn't sure. All he was sure of was that in that moment, he needed to hold her.

"Woah," the word fell off of his lips so heavily that his whole mouth fell with them.

"Stop staring at Allura," Hunk whispered in his ear. "And close your mouth," Lance blinked hard, a slight stutter in his voice,

"I-I'm not," his mouth went dry. He felt his lips cracking as he tried to swallow the lump in this throat. Hunk poked him in the arm, ripping lance from his daydream. Looking up, Lance saw both Allura and Pidge were looking right at him. With a shudder in his lungs, Lance turned to Hunk, presenting him with a broken smile.

"I-Is that music?" He asked, craning his entire body as if it would somehow make the sound louder. Sure enough, there was a faint sound, that grew louder with every passing tick. It was music. A collision of string instruments and percussion that gave the illusion of Latin music. Lance's heart ripped at his chest, homesickness pouring over him like molten lava. A bitter taste lingered on his lips, which had fallen into a form of sneer.

"Lance, are you okay?"

Pidge was so close to him he could almost feel the warmth her body radiated. He blinked hard, his attention snapping back onto the Green Paladin. There she was, stood right in front of him. A small voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him to just lean forward and kiss her.

He ignored it.

Shaking his head a little, Lance adorned his usual self, the recognisable smirk forming on his lips.

"Fancy a dance Pidge?"

Crap. Now what? He hadn't thought this through at all. Was it out of character? Would she know he was being weird? Lance held his breath. Her response time was almost painful. Lance put this down to her shock. Lance scanned her face slowly, looking for any form of clue to her inner thoughts. Instead all he got was a tiny urge to run his fingers over the freckles on her cheeks.

"Are you coming or what?"

Lance's head whipped round so fast he thought it might have fallen off. During his daydream Pidge had begun to walk towards the dancing Ierutians, holding Lance by his wrist. "Let's just get this over with," she huffed, attempting to hide the darkening blush that was spreading across her cheeks. As they neared the area where the most Ierutians were dancing, the music grew louder. Lance almost could feel his heart beating in time to the drums. Or at least he thought they were drums. Alien drums.

Again, Pidge pulled Lance out of his inner workings by tugging on his arm, her thumb tracing along the veins in his wrist. Lance held his breath. He could tell she had absolutely no idea what she was doing and was now looking for guidance. But hey, at least she'd agreed to dance right?

"What's up Pidge, never been asked to dance before?" Lance teased, leaning towards her. Pidge leaned backwards a little, folding her arms in unison to a scowel forming in her lips.

"Do I look like someone who's been asked to dance?" She bit back, watching as Lance slowly held out his hand for her. Pidge's cheeks burned furiously. She wouldn't have minded if he'd pulled a stunt like this in private, but dancing in front of all these people? She felt her stomach drop. Lance peered down at the Green Paladin. Taking in a shuddering breath, Lance stepped even closer. The feeling of Pidge taking his hand was on odd sensation. Her hand was so soft and dainty, almost like a doll he didn't want to risk breaking. But most importantly, her hand was warm. The tingling sensation of heat met his fingers and sent a shiver down his spine that calmed him to the core. Steadily, Lance placed his other hand on Pidge's waist. Much like he would back home, Lance let the music guide him. They didn't call him 'snake hips McClain' for nothing. With every passing dobosh, Lance showed Pidge how to navigate a simple dance. Be it showing her hips how to sway in time to the music or moving her feet so that Lance wouldn't accidentally stand on them, Lance couldn't help but feel a tiny sense of relief every time their bodies touched. Their dancing soon began to catch the attention of the locals, who almost all began to join in with the dancing Paladins. Lance chuckled to himself. Was this the space version of a flash mob? He thought so. With one final twirl, Lance ended up with Pidge pressed against his chest. He could feel every one of her quickened breaths, each of which tickled his cheeks as they escaped. Pidge's hands were trembling on his shoulders, but he didn't mind. All he could think about was her eyes. Her beautiful, golden eyes that somehow managed to capture the light of both moons. The more he thought about them, the wider the smile on his lips became.

Pidge felt her cheeks flush. She wanted to stop looking at him, she really did. But however much she tried, she couldn't break her gaze.

"Lance... I-" Pidge blinked away small tears in her eyes. The Blue Paladin raised an eyebrow at her, the wide smile on his face beginning to fade,

"You okay Pidge?"

After studying his face and a sharp in take of breath, Pidge squeezed her eyes shut and leant forward.