#and my first thought after that was Ink's overalls hanging so I was like :smirk:

[sensitive-g]

Your honor........................ GIVE HIM THE INK SANS OVERALLS TREATMENT

[kookiesjoonies]

risk it — jjk | nine.

risk it | nine: one more chance.

a/n: i know this update is kinda late, pls forgive me. xo 

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.1k

↠ warnings: angst (duh lol), language 

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Jungkook’s hands were gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had begun to turn white. His lips were pursed, brows narrowed, and chest heaving with angry breaths as he drove toward your salon. 

He had half a mind to turn around and drive in the opposite direction— to your apartment, where Yoongi was, and pummel him into the ground until he was bruised and bloody from head to toe. 

But he wanted to see you more. He wanted to tell you exactly what he thought about you having sex with his ex best friend, and he wanted to know exactly what the two of you had done together. 

Ever since Taehyung had sent that fucking picture in the group chat, it was all he could think about. He kept imagining Yoongi’s hands traveling up and down your body, Yoongi’s mouth trailing down your stomach, and every time he’d envision Yoongi fucking you into your mattress all he saw was red. 

When he finally pulled into a parking spot outside of the front door, he took a deep breath and ran the palms of his hands down his face in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. 

The sign above the door read Kookie Cutters, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head as memories of the two of you together flooded back in. 

He was lying next to you on your shared bed, one hand mindlessly on your breast (as it always seemed to be), while his other hand held the television remote. 

You’d been trying to come up with a name for your business all afternoon, and at first, he was eager to help. But after you shot down all fifty of his suggestions, he’d resorted to just nodding and grunting as he let you ramble on. 

 “I want the name to be something unique, yet personal. Something that nobody else has thought of.” 

He nodded his head in agreement, attention more focused on the soccer game in front of him than on your words. 

You rolled your eyes, plucking a pillow from behind his head and swatting him with it. 

“Hey! I was listening!” He insisted, swatting your attack away with his hands. 

“Uh huh, so what did I say?” You lifted a brow, hands on your hips. 

He smirked at your newfound attitude, always finding it so adorable and endearing. 

“Alright, alright. You caught me.” He admitted, to which you let out an annoyed sounding huff. 

“Kook! This is important!” your eyes lit up then, a theoretical lightbulb switching on above your head, “Wait, that’s it! I’ve got the name!” 

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Jungkook teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder. 

“Kookie Cutters, but… spelled like your name.” You visibly blushed as you told him your suggestion, and he was sure you were the cutest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jungkook inhaled one final deep breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle and opening it up, stepping inside of the decently sized building. 

He was immediately greeted with the smell of bleach and hairspray, the sound of gossiping hairdressers and clients buzzing through his ears. 

The place had grown impressively since the last time he’d been. You’d obviously hired more help, as well as made several renovations to the store’s overall aesthetic. The walls that used to be the ugliest shade of puke green were now a stylish cool toned grey, and the once tile floors had been replaced with dark rustic hardwood. You’d replaced the cheap light fixtures with spectacular chandeliers, and the waiting area that used to have a sofa and a small tv now housed several chairs and two wall mounted flat screens.

It suited the place, he thought. It suited you. 

“You look lost.” A feminine voice pulled him out of his trance, and he turned to face none other than Lee Mina. 

He offered her a small shrug, his eyes still looking the place over and attempting to catch sight of anything he might’ve missed. 

“Just impressed, is all. Looks a lot different than it did two years ago. Well, I mean, other than the name.” 

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?” The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toes on the floor below, exuding annoyance from every single one of her pores. 

“I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.” He confessed, looking past her and scanning the other women in the salon— looking for you. 

“She’s in her office,” Mina informed, “but I highly doubt she wants to see you.” 

“I told her I was on my way here.” 

“Awfully bold of you to come into a place filled to the brim with scissors and bleach, don’t you think?” Mina held a bite to her voice that damn near sent shivers down the man’s spine. 

Luckily, you finally made an appearance and stood beside your hard headed friend. 

“Down, girl,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the waiting area, “you’ve got a client, no time for poisoning my ex boyfriend.” 

“Trust me,” she started, shooting a death glare in Jungkook’s direction as she began to walk away, “I can make time.” 

Jungkook was sure that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. 

“She doesn’t like me, does she?” 

You scoffed, hands on your hips.

“Can you blame her?” 

No, he couldn’t. 

He sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Can we go somewhere and talk?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, we can go into my office. Follow me.” 

He did as he was told, keeping a safe distance between the two of you as he walked behind you. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” 

You mumbled a thank you as you opened up your wooden office door, stepping aside and gesturing him to go in before you. 

Your office was just as impressive as the main space, but Jungkook could tell that you’d taken the time to make this room more personal. Pictures of you and your friends hung on the wall behind where your glass desk was sat, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him to see that there weren’t any pictures of you two. Not that he’d expected there to be. 

Apparently, you could see the way that his face seemed to fall at that realization, and you were quickly bumping his hip to turn his attention to the picture frame beside your laptop. 

It was a photo of you and Jungkook, around seventeen years old, he guessed. His hair was much shorter, and his skin had a lot less ink— as in, had no ink. Yours was the same way, bare and tattooless. Jungkook was kissing your cheek in the photo, and you were grinning from ear to ear with your metal braces on full display. 

He couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it, allowing his fingers to ghost over the picture as he reminisced about the past. You’d become his everything when the two of you were just sixteen, the typical high school sweethearts cliché. 

He shared his first kiss with you, and you shared yours with him. It was so bad— teeth clacking and tongues unsure of what to do. But eventually, the two of you figured it out. Together. 

Your first time having sex was even worse, because neither of you even managed to cum. Maybe you would’ve, if Jungkook’s mom hadn’t walked in in the middle of it and proceeded to give you the world’s longest speech about how she was too young for grandchildren. 

“Did you really think I’d have pictures of everyone else, but leave you out?” You asked, taking a step forward and leaning your back against the desk beside him. 

“Guess it shouldn’t shock me,” he shrugged, straightening his posture as he sat on the edge of the desk and allowed one leg to dangle down, “seeing as how I still have a picture of you on my station at the shop.” 

“You know,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I was so mad before I came here. Really, my blood was boiling. But as soon as I laid eyes on you—“ 

“Don’t,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, “just say what you came here to say, Jungkook. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were staring straight forward at the frames hanging on the wall in front of you. He could see the way they were glossed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment. 

He’d made you cry so many times before, and every single time he did he felt like he was dying— like all of the air was being slowly sucked from his lungs. 

“Bug, don’t cry,” he stood in front of you instantly, his hands instinctively finding their way onto the sides of your face, “I just wanted to apologize, to tell you that I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

You closed your eyes, and to his surprise, leaned into his touch. He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone as a single tear fell down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You keep saying that,” you choked out, fully allowing the sobs to take over your body now, “but you don’t ever make any effort to stop doing it!” 

Your body began to shake, and you could no longer hold yourself up. The weight of everything that had happened recently, and in the past, was clearly getting to you. You fell against Jungkook’s chest as you continued to choke out pitiful sobs, and he used his strong arms to hold your body up to keep you from slipping to the ground. 

“I c-can’t do this anymore, Kook! I’m so in love with you that I feel it in every inch of my body, but all you seem to want to do is h-hurt me,” you continued to ramble, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose, “and I know you don’t mean to sometimes. But sometimes y-you do! And I just— I miss you, I miss who you used to be. I miss the guy that loved me and treated me right when we were teenagers! I know he’s in there somewhere, so either dig deep and f-find him or stay the f-fuck out of my life because I—“ 

The sound of Jungkook’s own sobbing cut you off. He’d begun stroking your hair with his hand as he let you get everything out, but it wrecked him to know he was making you feel this way. 

“I’ll try and be better, I swear to God I will. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted, and I am so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. You deserve so much better than me,” he lifted your chin with his fingers so that his sad eyes could meet your own, “but if you’ll give me one more chance… I swear I’ll be the man that you need me to be.” 

He could tell that the gears of your mind were working in overdrive, weighing out the pros and cons of putting your trust in him again. He hoped with every fiber of his being that you would, because come hell or high water, he was going to prove to you that he was worth your love again. 

You lifted your hands up to meet his face, wiping his tears from his cheeks and tucking his long strands of hair behind his ears. 

“Okay. One more chance.” 

The sigh of relief that Jungkook breathed out could no doubt be heard from the other side of the world. He nodded once, taking in the fact that you’d actually agreed to have him in your life full time again, even on a trial basis. 

His forehead leaned against your own as he pulled you tighter against him, giving your body with the tightest embrace— scared that at any moment, you’d change your mind and run in the opposite direction. 

“I promise you won’t regret this, bug. I mean it, I—“ 

Jungkook was cut off by Mina swinging open the door to your office and announcing your presence with her seemingly always excited, high pitched voice. 

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just— uhm,” she was stammering awkwardly, and speaking way too quickly, “Yn, you uhm… have a client. She’s waiting for you.” 

You gave her a quick nod, letting her know that you’d be out in just a minute as you wiped at the mascara running under your eyes. 

“Call me later?” you asked, finally breaking away from your ex lover’s hold, “We have a lot more to talk about.” 

“Sure thing.” 

As you turned to exit the room, you stood up on the tips of your toes and placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before allowing your lips to peck a kiss to his cheek. 

“Get home safe, Kook.” 

⇠ masterlist ⇢

a/n: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! thanks for reading!

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if you aren’t tagged, it’s because tumblr won’t let me tag certain people for some reason. so sorry! :(

[the-river-person]

Epilogue

Wind swept through the red grass like a wave upon the sea, sending ripples down the slopes of the endless hills. In the lowest valleys the grass vanished into a soft white fog, making the hilltops seem as if they were detached from the earth and floating through an ocean of clouds. Sans gazed around in wonder, while also having to shield his eyes a little. Above them the sky was a thousand blending shades of purple, everything from a deep angry bruise to a very soft lilac. At the edge of the Horizon was the sun, and from here it looked a very deep red color, and though it wasn’t terribly bright, he still had to shield his eyes. It seemed that he needed some time for his eyes to properly adjust to seeing the surface in all of its overwhelming brightness after living in the muted and shadowed Underground for all his life. Well for lifetimes on end, really. Mouth open wide, and eye lights nearly pinpricks in shock, Gaster too appeared to be too stunned for words at the sight of this world. Sans knew that his uncle had been around to see the Surface of their own Universe, and judging by Gaster’s reaction, it was nothing at all like this. The River Person had taken them to this place because he said it was still a relatively safe Universe to visit for a little while. Comfortably seated in his ferry boat, the River Person didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere soon, so they’d opted to explore for a bit while staying in sight. Arriving at another Universe was just as bizarre as leaving one had been. It was as if there was a reflective orb in the distance, only when you got closer it wasn’t you that it was reflecting, but a place. And if you got close enough it was as if the reflection warped and twisted itself so that it swallowed you and you were sitting in another Universe as smoothly as if you’d landed your boat at the docks. Actually the ferryboat itself was sitting in the middle of the red grass, and looked perfectly natural there as if it were supposed to sail across the sea of red grass and plants instead of up and down a river. Out in the distance the world got even stranger. To the right, he wasn’t sure what the compass direction was because the red sun appeared to be circling the horizon instead of crossing overhead in an arc, he could see bright glow that spanned the whole edge of the sky in that direction, as if the area was filled with light. And to the left the sky seemed to get darker and darker until the horizon that way was shadowed and still. “Pretty, isn’t it?” “Yes,” he breathed, still trying to take it all in. The next moment he leaped away in shock as he realized the comment had come from someone who had unexpectedly been standing beside him. It was a skeleton, somewhat similar to himself in appearance but not quite. Wearing brown pants that might have been tucked in overalls by the green straps that were sticking out from one side of the waist, a white shirt, and a long brown scarf... the skeleton’s clothing alone made a strong first impression of him. But more interesting than that were the splotch of black ink that coated the bottom right side of his jaw and the enormous paint brush that he carried on his back like a sheathed sword. Over his chest was a belt holding a series of tiny phials with heart shaped stoppers, each phial held a different colored liquid within, and altogether and in order they formed a kind of rainbow pattern. Finally, around his neck and hanging down his back was an incredibly long scarf of some brown fabric. The Skeleton was grinning at him, mischief dancing in his eye sockets, which Sans had only just realized contained some odd shapes. In his left eye, the pupil was shaped like a bright, five pointed, golden star (☆), twinkling merrily as if to say “I’m excited!” to all the world. And in his right eye the pupil took the shape of... and this left Sans feeling more bewildered than anything else, a small purple 7. But even as he watched the pupils changed shape, and again, and again. A spiral (๑), a triangle border with nothing inside (△), a check mark (✓), an eroteme (?), a small crescent moon (☽), a pair of squiggly lines that might have been either water or a double tilde (≈), a silcrow (§), a percontation point (⸮), and a very small umbrella (☂). “Hullo!” said the skeleton. “I’m Ink! Guardian of the Multiverse and Protector of AUs!” Gaster, who had turned around to see what Sans had been reacting to, was examining the newcomer with something akin to professional curiosity. “AUs?” he asked, tilting his skull slightly to the side. “Alternate Universes,” clarified Ink. “And parallel ones. And pretty much any other kind of universe that springs up. So... now that I’ve introduced myself, who are you two?” Other universes, the thought was a little frightening. Sure he’d heard Gaster practically wax poetic on the subject numerous times, and here he was standing in another universe entirely. But it was different hearing someone else talk about them existing, as if they’d seen them with their own eyes. An entire multiverse full of them. And if Ink was truly the Guardian of that Multiverse and every universe inside of it, then he must be a really important person. “I’m Sans-” he started to say, not sure whether there was special protocol for introducing yourself to a Multiverse Guardian, but Ink was already cutting him off, flapping his hand impatiently at them. “No no no. There are way too many Sanses and Gasters floating about. Even I’m a Sans. We like to use... well I guess you’d call them nicknames. They help keep us from getting confused. More confused. Some people use the name of their AU, others ” Somewhat at a loss, Sans turned to look at Gaster, who only shrugged unhelpfully. Well alright then. A nickname huh? His thoughts raced back years and years, decades, centuries, all the way to that very first therapy session with Doctor Whimsol. She’d suggested that he didn’t have to be a Sans if he didn’t feel like one. For a while he’d toyed with various other names, mostly Fonts in the style of Skeleton naming conventions. But he’d never really made anything of it. Perhaps one of the ones he’d liked would do? Something that suited him the way that he was now. He’d changed a great deal since then. There was no way anyone would think of him in formal terms, even now. But he was a bit more serious, even though he tried to stay approachable. He wasn’t suffering from depression and guilt, and he was a lot more active than he had been. So something light-hearted but serious, informal like, with a sense of movement.... It came to him and he grinned suddenly. “Mistral,” he informed the Guardian of the Multiverse. “I’m Mistral.“ Looking intrigued, Ink nodded enthusiastically. “It suits you! A little rough of a font, sort of like brush writing, but with this... um... crystal stuff on your bones, it really works.” Oh yeah, Sans had forgotten about the Kenón still growing on him. It had sped up its growth a bit in the Void, which made sense because they were already connected. Small spikes of silvery-grey crystal were now easily seen growing up from the collar of his shirt and from his sleeves, and tiny lumps were beginning to form under his usual overcoat that betrayed the crystals growing underneath. “I think,” said Gaster suddenly, “That I would like to be known as Majuscule.” Sans stared at him. “You want to be named after Capitalized Letters?” he asked incredulously. It wasn’t a font. Though they weren’t really required to stick to those if they truly didn’t want to. But it was related enough that it was odd that Gaster would want to choose that of all things for a name. The smile the scientist gave him was a smug one. “When I use the Wingdings Sign variant it really doesn’t differentiate between Minuscule and Maguscule symbols like the font does in physical writing. And since I cannot speak it out loud and adjust the volume of my speech, it is as if I am saying everything in capitalized letters, constantly speaking with maximum intensity all the time.” Oh Angel, of course Gaster would choose something that convoluted. Sans groaned and rolled his eyes, surprisingly Ink only looked amused and actually giggled, his eyes flitting between an octothorp followed immediately by an S (#S) , an ecphoneme (!), an on/off symbol, and an asterisk (*). “I’m guessing you guys are new travelers to the Multiverse. That means you’re the ones I was looking for. You see, I felt a Universe die recently, and I went to go protect it from whatever was causing it to be destroyed. But it was dying on its own, of old age. I’ve never seen a Universe do that before, reach its natural ending. Then I found a trail in the Void, the sort of paths the River Folk make when they travel, and I knew that someone must have escaped before everything fell apart. And well... here you are!” Ink smirked and stuck out his tongue in a sort of “blep” way. Somewhere in the back of his head, Sans couldn’t help but notice that the tongue was rainbow hued. But now that he was reminded, he had more important questions. “Did you see anyone else?” He asked. “A ship in the Void? Any survivors? Papyrus? Well, my Papyrus anyway. He’s the Captain of the Royal Guard. And there were a lot of people on the ship before it fell into the Void. Please, if you’ve seen anything...” He trailed off hopefully. Ink’s eyes had suddenly become two ecphonemes (!). “Wait, there are more than just you two?” asked the Guardian excitedly. “It’s pretty rare we get more than a Sans or a Gaster. For some reason the Sanses seem to be inclined to go traveling more than others, though we do get Papyruses and Gasters here and there. But I don’t recall seeing a ship...hmmm.” Then Ink reached back and pulled on his scarf. Upon closer inspection, Sans could see all kinds of writing on it, scribbles and notes. Ink was using the thing as a planner. For a moment Ink squinted down at the scarf, searching through all the notes. They could see his mouth moving as he silently muttered some of the reminders he was reading. At last he looked up. “Nope, sorry. I haven’t seen any ship. But I’ll make a note to keep an eye out for one. I definitely don’t want to miss seeing that. Oh, but I did write down something else. I found this where your universe used to be.” And digging into his pocket, Ink produced something that was difficult to see. It was like a point, but without any width, depth, surface, or length. It flickered strangely and Sans heard Gaster’s intake of breath behind him. “There it is!” said the Scientist as he stepped forward, reaching for the thing. “The last fragment. The final percentage. What bit of me are you hiding in such a small form?” His hand closed around it and he closed his eyes, looking triumphant and relieved. Just as quickly he snapped them back open again in alarm. “Sans!” “What?” “I had three assistants, Sans. Three! Not four! I don’t know who Goner actually is!” * * * The Tem had managed to push the wreckage away from itself, freeing its trapped hind leg. Nobody else was in this part of the Ship, mostly being occupied in repair work or attempts to plan and reorganize. He’d volunteered to come out here and replace the spark plugs in this area because it would make it easier to get away from people for a while. A low creak, like metal under strain, made him turn. It was similar to the sound he’d heard earlier before the ceiling fell. This ship had taken a lot of damage in the crash, it was no wonder it was all falling apart at the seams. There was no one there. Yeah, probably just more infrastructure damage from the crash that needed to be repaired. Turning back brought him face to face with the grey torso of Goner, who was looming over him with his pale whitish-grey eyes. “Your name is Bob, right?” Said Goner in an expressionless tone. It wasn’t really a question exactly. More like a statement with a question tacked onto the end like an afterthought. Suddenly Goner’s expression seemed almost sly, sinister. Perhaps it was just the lighting, but the Tem shrank from the Monster as he leaned forward. “My name is Goner, I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink!Sans belongs to @comyet Special Thanks to @msaoa12345 for their continued reblogging, praise, and excitable and positive commentary. Without their support, this story wouldn’t be anywhere near finished.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Domestic fluff, with mechanic, silver fox, soft Tony married to professor Peter. Throw in any other trope we're both obsessed with lol

The Way You Hold Me 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature Notes: Holy. It has been a hot minute since I’ve put fingers to keyboard. I’m so stoked that S’s prompt is the one to pull me out of my slump. I’m a sucker for silver fox Tony & finally couldn’t resist. This is pure, tooth-rotting fluff, so I hope you’re up for some sweetness! Word Count: ~5K Warnings: There’s a bit of smexy in there, but it’s not that detailed. The rest is just indulgence of the love-dovey kind. 

Read on AO3 here

To say that Tony was hooked from the very start would’ve been a huge understatement.

Despite never laying eyes on Professor Peter Parker, Tony found himself completely overwhelmed with that obsessive sort of feeling he got when things sparked his interest. The words in their email exchanges were more than enough to draw him in – he could openly admit that strong character and a whip smart brain totally got him going. If his witty words and bright ideas weren’t enough, a quick Google search put the final nail in the coffin. Big brains and immense beauty – who was he to deny the attractiveness in that situation?

When the opportunity presented itself, Tony navigated his way around NYU’s campus, practically jumping on the chance to finally meet the notorious Professor Parker in person. He made his way leisurely through throngs of students until he found the not so surprisingly crowded lecture hall. If professors were as attractive as Professor Parker during his school days, he might’ve paid a bit more attention. Unlike most classes, each student seemed to be completely entranced by the information – or the man at the front of the room presenting it.

Tony rarely got the chance to observe someone else while working – most people that knew about his shop knew about his impeccable brains and talent; which meant a lot of the spectating happened while he worked. Flipping the norm on its head proved to be incredibly delightful – Peter Parker could hold the entire room’s attention without even trying. And man did he know his shit! He spoke about mechanics and fluid dynamics like they were extended pieces of himself, not convoluted theories riddled with mathematical explanations. If he weren’t already taking giant leaps towards infatuation, the time spent watching the professor lecture surely would send him spiraling in that direction.

For a brief instant toward the end of his lecture, Tony caught Professor Parker looking at him. Their eyes met and held for what felt like eons, the other man’s cocoa colored irises were stunning and seemed to become more so the longer Tony looked. A moment of recognition flashed in those deep eyes before he turned back to the class and continued to talk about fluid pumps like nothing happened.

By the end of the lecture, Tony knew a couple of things with absolute certainty – Peter Parker was the most gorgeous person (in every single way) on the planet, and he would do absolutely anything necessary to find a place for him in his life. Though he was getting ahead of himself, Tony could feel the rightness of the situation down to his very core – there weren’t many people who could spark a reaction in him, let alone one that moved him to action. He forced himself to calm down as a flood of students started to pile out of the room, each one looking at him with a mix of suspicion and appreciation – he forewent the hat that morning, so his longer salt and pepper hair stood proudly on display. Even he knew the appeal of that silver fox look.

A soft throat clearing brought Tony back from his contemplative state – he blinked a few times to orient himself before turning towards the noise.

Bright eyes on him had him once again stopping in his tracks; Peter Parker the man looked totally different than the lecturer standing in front of him only moments before. The owlish, almost nerdy look was replaced with a soft smirk and clear, knowing eyes. “Tony Stark, as I live and breathe. I would’ve happily met you at my office.” Peter didn’t seem to blink as he spoke, those eyes following every one of Tony’s minuet movements.

Tony knew in that instant – he wasn’t the only genius predator in that room.

Running a hand through long strands, Tony shifted his feet just enough to lean against one of the chairs closest to him. “I thought I’d catch you in your natural habitat. Even I know professors are never in their offices,” Tony remarked, his words light and just the slightest bit flirty. “Seeing you in action is much more informative than any meeting in your office would’ve been, anyway.”

Peter’s answer came in the form of a face splitting smile, the whites of his teeth showing through the stretch of soft lips. “You’re an actions speak louder than words guy – I like that.”

Grinning, Tony closed the distance between them, his feet carrying him in a manner that he never experienced before. It was as if the inches that separated them were causing physical pain, like if he didn’t get within touching distance that instant, Tony might actually combust. Now toe to toe, Tony stuck his hand out to shake, a daring look on his face. “Actions are the only thing that count in this muddled world, Professor Parker.”

And just like that, a bond developed between them. Aside from working on the research they cultivated over the past few months, Tony found himself seeking Peter’s company out as much as possible. For a little while, he made up lame work-related excuses – Peter was insanely dedicated to their joint academic pursuits and gladly came whenever Tony posed a question. As time trickled on, the questions and requests became increasingly less academic and much more personal. Instead of meeting at the campus library, Tony brought Peter to the big office he kept in the shop or the sanctuary of his kitchen. Slowly but surely, topics moved from engine parts to hobbies and ambitions. Much like the rebuild of a classic car, their steps towards something else were filled with anticipation and an overall feeling of contentment.

Instead of infatuation, Tony started to recognize the floaty feeling as love – the active process of falling into it much less frightening than he initially figured. Despite what the forty-nine-year-old knew about his previous “loves”, Tony found himself learning something new about the topic on a daily basis. Never before did he find someone’s coffee making ritual as endearing as the repetitional process that Peter went through. For the first time in his life, Tony understood what it meant to love every part of a person, not just a few individual pieces that made up the whole.

When they finally took the step towards realizing their love for each other, Tony jumped in headfirst. Being the ridiculously professional academic that he was, Peter didn’t want to mix any sort of business with pleasure, so they waited what felt like several long months to even think about anything other than friendship. Throughout those months, Tony wore out fantasy after delicious fantasy about what having Peter next to him would be like – how his ink-stained hands would feel on bare skin, how plush lips would press against his own. In all the ways, Tony tried to picture Peter as his.

Yet, nothing he pictured even came close.

The first time Peter kissed him, Tony was utterly unprepared for it. Upon their article being published, Tony and Peter planned to celebrate with a home cooked meal in Tony’s surprisingly well stocked kitchen. Throughout their time together, cooking dinner and hanging around the kitchen’s island with a glass of wine in hand became second nature to them – the whole ritual like a deep breath of fresh air after the long days both men waded through on a constant basis. Yet, this time, Tony could feel a crackle in the air – whether it was wishful thinking or fact, he wasn’t quite sure.

As they moved around each other seamlessly, Tony felt himself relaxing in a way that only happened when Peter was around. Instead of anxiety and a never-ending slew of thoughts, a clear head and empty spaces opened up around him. The comfort in Peter’s presence lulled him into a state that, until meeting the man, Tony didn’t know he could achieve. Which is why he was thrown off guard when a firm hand wrapped around his upper arm. Setting down the knife he’d been masterfully chopping vegetables with, he turned his body in Peter’s direction, the touch on his bare skin producing a sensation that sent tingles down to the very tips of his toes.

“What’s up – “ Tony started to say before the softest lips were pressing against his own. Whatever question he wanted to ask flew from his mind, the pressure of warmth and the delicate feeling of getting what he wanted, finally, overtook him. Leaning into the kiss, Tony tilted his head and returned it to the best of his ability – chances like this didn’t come by often and he sure as hell wasn’t one to let them pass him by. His own hand moved restlessly until it found the curve of Peter’s hip; the fingers there dug into jean and fabric and the slightest hint of what could only be warm, smooth skin.

Though it felt like just a second, Tony’s chest was heaving when they finally pulled away from each other. Without much thought, he renewed the grip on Peter’s hip and brought him back in for another kiss, the pressing issue of a lack of oxygen not even registering. Behind closed eyelids, he only saw, felt, and wanted the divine press of lip against lip – if he could live in this singular moment, all would be right in the world.

It was Peter who finally broke away, the redness in his cheeks sending a rush of some unnamed feeling down the length of Tony’s limbs. It felt electric, like shockwaves traveling across the surface of his skin. Sucking in a breath, Tony forced himself to look up and take in the melted chocolate of Peter’s stunning eyes. The black of his pupil practically overran the rich, dark brown, yet the color stood out even more because of that. The compulsion to reach out and touch Peter’s face rushed through him – the thought of more of that warm skin under his hands completely entrancing. Instead, he dug his fingers further into Peter’s hip, the bottom of his shirt riding up with ever clenching gesture.

“I’ve wanted to do that for months. Months, Tony,” Peter mumbled, his words still colored by the slightest pant of breath. The touch of his hand shifted up his arm, those long fingers settling on the naked skin on the back of Tony’s neck like they belonged there (they did). Slight callouses on the palm of Peter’s hand reminded him of the depth of the professor’s knowledge and experience – the roughness there spoke of words written with restless hands and technical brilliance brought about by steady, knowledgeable limbs. Unable to resist, Tony leaned into the touch, his entire being tuned in to the warm caress.

Leaning forward slightly, Tony brushed the tip of his nose against Peter’s, a soft sigh leaving his lips. So many times, he thought about this very moment and the reality of it couldn’t possibly be predicted – everything about Peter seemed like a surprise; every second they spent together another adventure, another excitement added to the list of things to LOVE about Professor Parker. The answering gasp of air against his lips had Tony pressing forward again, their lips meeting in a barely there caress.

“Now you don’t ever have to stop,” Tony finally managed to drag his lips away from Peter’s to mumble. “In fact – I hope you don’t. I really, really, really hope.”

Luckily, Peter hadn’t planned to. For weeks after that night, they flirted through shared time in the kitchen, and teased each other throughout tv show binges and candlelit dinners. No matter what they did, Tony ended the night with a writhing Peter Parker on his lap. With every second spent together, Tony tried to absorb everything he could about the man – how his hands felt gripping around his neck, the way his thighs flexed and clenched with the subtle roll of his hips – hell, even the way the taste in his mouth changed when things went from gentle and tame to overtly arousing. Many times, he wished he were a better writer – the ache Tony felt to document his findings was entirely too overwhelming.

Little by little, they crept towards what could only be considered to be something serious. There was no longer the pretense of academic pursuits to stop them from stepping out into the New York night life together – their dates took on a whole new nature when Tony realized just how well Professor Parker could clean up. It only took one night of Peter’s well-tailored ass dancing against him to know that demanding outings exactly like that one was absolutely necessary for his survival – and ever growing libido

Said libido spent a long time in self-induced isolation and took the magic of Peter Parker to reignite whatever passion seemed to be lacking earlier in his life. Up until the supple curves of his favorite professor sat in the palms of his hands, Tony struggled with the ease of intimacy – his brain ran a mile a minute and couldn’t often slow down enough to thoroughly enjoy the greatness of human contact. Yet, when Peter held him, touched him – something happened; the rest of the world sort of faded away, everything narrowed down to the lightest stroke and talented caress.

And despite the wild flame that seared between them, it still took four months of heavy petting and sleepovers on the couch after too much making out to finally fall into bed together. Tony knew – with every piece of himself – that the second he gave himself to Peter, there was no going back. Whatever addiction he willingly cultivated during their time together teetered on a precarious edge between not enough and too much. Physical intimacy would smash that cliff in half, leaving Tony with an inability to separate himself from the overwhelming feelings Peter made him feel.

Yet, when the moment finally came, every second of it felt righter than Tony thought possible. They didn’t tumble into the room in a tattered state of “can’t wait” and “right now”. Instead, Tony slowly unwrapped the present that a jean-clad Peter Parker presented. His lips mapped the route from a delightfully long neck to cut shoulders, then down from nipple to nipple, and lower – the soft hair leading down to lean hips and a gorgeous cock got more attention than either of them anticipated.

Between the dizzy effect of Peter’s moans and the effort to remember each of Peter’s moans, Tony almost forgot how he found himself two fingers deep in the tightest ass he could recall feeling. His cock, which brushed teasingly against Peter’s thigh, twitched with anticipation with every thrust – the tight clench around them was going to feel spectacular around his incredibly touch starved dick.

Clearing his mind of the more heady thoughts, Tony worked a third finger into Peter’s tight heat – the ability to control himself was slowly crumbling, each second that passed felt like one too many – the need to satiate his overwhelming craving hit him in the chest from one touch to the next.

Long fingers gripped his forearm, forcing his attention away from the pulse and stretch of the warm tightness around him. Tony looked up, his eyes seeking Peter’s without thought.

“I’m ready, Tony. I need you to fuck me. I can’t wait – don’t make me.” Peter’s grip tightened as each word slipped from his lips.

Sucking in much needed air, Tony moved until he could comply – his entire body thrummed with anticipation, his ability to wait seemed to fly out the window in that moment, too. He shifted to pull the bedside table drawer open, but he was stopped again by the hand still clutching his forearm.

“Just you, Tony.”

They locked eyes again, a silent conversation happening between them before Tony nodded, the outstretched hand finding Peter’s hip, instead. With the other, he uncapped the lube and poured a good amount straight on his heat-flushed cock, the cold of it pulling a pulse from him, a small bead of precum forming at the tip. Tony forced himself to take in a deep breath, the touch of his hand as he spread the sticky substance over sensitive skin reminding him how close he actually was. It wouldn’t do to finally be getting what he wanted and not last – he wanted, craved, desired the best of the best for Peter – with him, even.

Another quick shift had him pinning Peter on the bed below him, the forearm of his right arm pressed tightly against Peter’s shoulder – there wasn’t any space between them. When he finally pushed in, Tony let out a noise he never heard before – especially from himself. The moan radiated around the room, wrapping both him and Peter up in the delicacy of pure pleasure and steady connection. “Fuck, Pete – “ Tony couldn’t help but babble, his entire core clenching as he finally, finally bottomed out.

For all the time spent anticipating, Tony didn’t have any sort of word or feeling to describe what being connected to Peter was like. His strong thighs wrapped tightly around Tony’s waist, the muscles squeezing with every thrust – almost like he dreaded the slide out just as much as Tony. The tip of his cock nailed Peter’s prostate with every cleverly angled shift of his hips, the feeling on both ends bringing a new sense of bliss to the situation.

Though he tried to keep his shit together, Tony felt the coil in his stomach spin up uncontrollably, the inevitable end racing towards him without any of his permission. Picking up his pace, Tony untangled their joint limbs just enough to slip his hand between them, his work roughened fingers wrapped tightly around Peter’s cock to time his tight strokes with the movement of his hips.

The wet feeling of Peter’s release splashing against his fingers pulled Tony over the edge, the loud breaths and drawn out moans of the other’s orgasm a tantalizing soundtrack to his overwhelming peak.

He couldn’t remember losing the ability to hold himself up, but moments later, he resurfaced to find his chest pressed tightly against Peter’s with sweaty fingers brushing through his long, graying locks.

“Wow.” Tony whispered after a while, his nose finding its way to the crook of Peter’s neck. He pressed soft kisses and took in long, deep breaths – Peter’s normal scent was something more now, the undertones of it carrying the slightest hint of the cinnamon Tony himself carried around. A slow smile pulled across his lips at the thought – they were both forever changed now, each one another integral piece of the other.

Instead of answering, Peter tightened his grip around Tony, his soft lips pressing kiss after kiss against skin still slicked with sweat.

A while later, they tumbled out of bed and cleaned up in the shower, both men unwilling to put more space between them than necessary after such a powerful experience. Tony reveled in his ability to touch and caress as he washed hot water warmed skin, and then later when Peter crawled into his arms and settled against his chest under the plushness of soft sheets. He let the contentment of it carry him to the cusp of sleep.

Right before he let his eyes close, Tony felt a kiss pressed to the side of his neck and Peter moving impossibly closer. “I love you, Tony,” Peter mumbled against his skin, the sleepiness in his voice making the words sound so fucking special.

Blinking, Tony tightened his hold, his fingers running in smooth patterns up and then back down the length of Peter’s back. “I love you, too. So much.”

----

Eight months later, Tony found himself right back where things started; his eyes took in the entirety of the lecture hall with fond affection. He got to campus a little earlier than usual, his excitement at getting to see Peter too much for him to handle back at the shop. Instead of fretting in the car, he stretched his long legs in a walk across campus. By instinct, or maybe nostalgic intervention, Tony got to Peter’s building without thought – he shook his head at himself, but walked through the doors, anyway. Sucking in the familiar smell that Peter brought back to the apartment every day, Tony kept walking until he was able to take a seat at the back of the overfull amphitheater.

Despite not making any noise as he walked in, Peter glanced up at him, the softest smile slipping across his lips as their eyes connected. A warm feeling sat in the bottom of his stomach – the all too familiar burn of love flaring up inside him at the look.

Never missing a beat, Peter continued through the last part of his lecture like Tony wasn’t even there. Bright whiskey colored eyes watched with fascination, the smile on his face growing with each passing minute. For a long time, Tony’s own intelligence made him feel like a social outcast – there weren’t too many of his peers that could even come close to his level of understanding. Peter, though – his brain worked in a way that Tony not only found interesting, but also wanted to know and explore in the same way he did his own. The rare treat of getting to see it in work made his heart slam in his chest – Peter was damn sexy when flawlessly controlling the classroom.

Unlike most of the students around him, Tony let out the slightest sigh of disappointment at the end of Peter’s presentation – he would’ve gladly skipped their dinner plans to hear Peter wax poetic about diesel; despite the oddity of it, Tony found Peter’s display of knowledge distractingly intriguing.

Tony went against the flow of students leaving the lecture hall to get to his boyfriend at the front of the room, a happy smile on his face as he did. When close enough to reach out and touch, Tony grabbed Peter’s hand, using his leverage to pull him into his arms. Planting a fleeting kiss on soft lips, Tony held Peter tightly to him, his eyes closing from the sensation. He would’ve gotten lost in it if it weren’t for a soft chorus of ‘awes’ that sounded from the back of the room.

“Ms. Pesto, class is over.” Peter leaned back into Tony’s hands on his back to speak to the culprit, a smirk pulling across his face. “Shut the door behind you when you go.”

Grinning, Tony leaned in to press a longer, more intense kiss on already swollen lips. “Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you’re teaching?” The question was broken up by soft kisses to Peter’s lips, cheek, and chin.

Peter shook his head in answer, a slight giggle falling from his lips. “You neglected to share that interesting piece of information.” Then, “what’s your favorite part? The way my brain works, or how good I look in these pants?”

Tony let his hands run more firmly over Peter’s ass at the comment, his pupils dilating with a sudden rush of arousal. “Most definitely all of the above,” Tony whispered, his fingers digging into the meat of a delightfully thick glute. “You’re my favorite part.”

There weren’t any more words shared between them for a few minutes, the solid weight and press of lip against lip the only thing existing in those moments. Peter forced them apart when the door opened again and a colleague started to descend the stairs. Reading the room, Tony forced himself to calm down and grabbed Peter’s bag from the desk, shouldering it before reaching out to grab Peter’s hand.

Throughout the rest of the night, Tony couldn’t stop the thoughts of how right and perfect things were – Peter drove him crazy with want, but even more importantly, love and adoring affection. For the first time in his entire life, Tony understood what it was like looking at the rest of forever. Popping the question entered his mind a few months ago, just the idea of it made him absolutely weak at the knees. Though he hadn’t given much thought to marriage before, Tony could picture it clearly with Peter – they already did so much give and take with each other, the next step just made sense.

He started to seriously think about it a couple of weeks later when Happy, one of his senior mechanics, brought up a jeweler he frequently bought things from for his own wife. “He does the best work,” Happy said, his hands already busy digging into his coveralls to snag a card from his wallet. “Tell him I sent you – he’ll hook you up.”

The card sat in his grease-covered hands reverently, the small piece of cardstock another piece to the next step with his most favorite human.

Horace, who turned out to be a gifted jeweler and a joy to be around, got him settled with a gorgeous damascus steel ring, the contrasting light and dark metals melding together to tangibly personify Tony and Peter. It was strong, yet delicate – the stunning beauty of it mellow and completely overwhelming. Walking out of the store with it made Tony feel fulfilled – with it soon, he hoped to make Peter his for the rest of his life.

Of course, things never went the way Tony initially planned them to go. He carried the black velvet box with him for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question. Tony knew, despite the pulsing nerves, that Peter would say yes – they were meant to be, he couldn’t be the only one that felt that way. Not when, only after a little more than a year of being together, Peter felt like home. More than anything else in his entire life, Peter felt right.

After a string of long days in the shop, Tony was finishing up his last car of the day when Peter came storming through the side door. The slightly worrying tone of Peter’s voice when he uttered Tony’s name had him standing up too quickly, the hood he was working under smacking him in the back of the head with a dull thud. A slight whimper left his lips, his anxiousness not enough to stop the slight throb of pain.

“Pete, what’s up?” Tony asked, his voice only a little tight in his attempt to keep his slowly building panic to a minimum. They left the house that morning with a stolen make out session and a slight unwillingness to say goodbye – what could’ve possibly gone wrong between then and now? Rubbing the back of his head, Tony finally straightened himself completely, his attention totally on Peter.

His jaw dropped a second later when Peter thrust the very box he’d been worrying over between them, his eyebrow raised. “Want to tell me about this? I left some research on the passenger seat of my car and when I went to grab it, I found this suspicious black box on the seat. What is it, Tony?”

Peter’s eyes were wide, the look on his face telling Tony that Peter didn’t look, despite knowing exactly what resided within the box without the need to peek. Sucking in a quick breath, Tony snatched the box out of Peter’s hands, his knee hitting the floor a second later. That very instant was as good a time as any, he figured.

Pulling the lid of the box open, Tony used his free hand to grab Peter’s, his fingers gripping tightly. “It’s kind of fitting that I find the perfect moment in one of my fuck ups. You make all of the weird pieces of me feel so normal – like they fit, despite being totally obscure. No one, in my entire life, ever made me feel as complete as you do. I should have known that asking you to be mine forever would be as unconventional as I am. Will you be my husband, Pete? I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Instead of answering, Peter grabbed the grimy edges of his coveralls and pulled him up from the floor. His arms wound tightly around Tony’s neck, the space between their bodies getting narrowed down to nothing, the ring box stuck between them. Their lips met in a fierce kiss, spit-sticky tongues sliding together in an instant. Peter kissed Tony’s breath away, the two only pulling back when the risk of passing out ran too high.

“Yeah, I’ll be your husband,” Peter mumbled breathlessly, the pants of his breath making the words even more impactful.

A face splitting grin lit up Tony’s face, his cheeks straining with the effort. He wordlessly put a bit of distance between them, the space just enough to grab Peter’s left hand and slip the ring down his third finger. The juxtaposition of grease and pale skin and shiny metal stood out as he admired the perfect fit of forever’s promise, both on Peter’s finger and in the bond between them.

Leaning back into his new fiancé, Tony pulled Peter into him, their lips finding each other without fail. The perfectly imperfect thing that existed between them thrummed with new life. As they kissed, Tony succumbed to the pleasant ache of being completely consumed by Peter and all of the feelings that always threatened to overcome him. Peter had his back – and would for the rest of their lives. Their love deserved every overwhelming feeling Peter played muse to.  

[vesperlionheart]

Lady of the Blackthorn Trees 2

Part 2 of this magical SasoSaku for @frostmarris​

Life at the tower was a guilty paradise for Sasori for the next four years. He had been given his own quarters with a privet study and personal, yet empty, library that she allowed him to fill up as the weeks and months rolled by.

With his personal allowance she took him to the far reaches of the continent and showed him the best stalls and shops to browse through. He trained with her once a week in magic, and then on a different day of the week he studied history, art, and literature with Sakura.

The rest of the week she was called away on the business of seeing to the needs of the world, or isolating herself in the celestial observatory.  

At first their meetings had been strictly reserved for those two days and evening dinners, but after the first year Sasori began to find ways where he could insert himself into her work or study.  She noticed and teased him for his efforts but didn’t rebuke him for them.

On days when he was left alone with the unseen servants he felt more like a pet, but anytime he had the opportunity to speak with Sakura or be in front of her, all feelings of inferiority left him. Or maybe they didn’t leave him, but they turned reasonable. He had so much to learn from her even though he still would never understand why she bothered with him in the first place.

He found her one day, lost in thoughts and wandering aimlessly through the halls of the main library. He thought maybe she would appreciate the solitude but before he could help himself he called out to her.

Sakura turned and smiled softly. “Sasori, what can I help you with?”

“I was wondering if I could help you.”

Her eyes sparkled with something close to mischief but she sounded as cordial as ever when she replied. “I am quite alright. I don’t want you being concerned for my sake.”

Sasori wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms. “You sound like one of those stuffy court politicians. What’s the matter with you today?”

“I’m feeling like a stuffy court politician,” she said.

“That’s terrible,” Sasori sighed in fake empathy. “No one would want to hang around you like that.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Looking for the woman this stuffy court political replaced, obviously,” Sasori shot back. He raised a single brow in an unimpressed expression to match his monotone.

When she smiled Sasori could tell she was tired but the heaviness was far less than what it once was. “I heard she took a vacation. Might I be of some assistance in her absence?”

Sasori produced his spell book from the straps under his arm and waved it before flipping through to one of the most recent pages where the ink was finally dry. “I was transcribing a spell and I don’t like how it came out. What did I do wrong?”

“Oh no, one of those questions,” Sakura sighed even as she approached his spell book to look it over. “You always have to make things so complicated.”

“I did the transcription perfectly.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and took the book with her to a nearby table. “Yes, yes, I have no doubt you were the perfect copy machine, but the spell you were copying over fit the original spell caster and suited their natural style. You are not the original spell caster so you need to make allotments in the transcription for where you deviate from the author.”

Sasori secretly delighted in how impassioned Sakura could become with the right sort of question. She could talk for hours about her favorite authors and spell writers and how they were under appreciated in their field until after their death. It was probably his favorite bad habit, setting her off onto tangents.

“You’re looking far too smug for someone who didn’t even omit the core natural element clause, Sasori.”

“You’re supposed to keep that the same when transferring.”

“Only with like minded spell workers. You’re not a sorcerer like me, you need to make allowances for how your body handles magic otherwise you’ll blow both your hands off at the wrists. You think I want to have to make you a pair of pretty silver hands, huh?” she teased.

Sasori just chuckled in response and Sakura’s lips puckered in something close to a pout. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You don’t sound like a court politician anymore,” he explained. “Now you’re just a nagging teacher.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and waved her hand over her shoulder. “Excuse me for looking out for your best interests. What do you expect when you show up with such shoddy work? Put this away, I’m taking you to the grove for lessons.”

In spite of himself, Sasori perked up at the mention. “It’s only the third day of the week.”

“Yes, but you’re hopeless and I’m in need of a good distraction,” Sakura said, tone flippant.

Sasori wondered if there was any particular reason for her earlier despondency, but felt comfortable letting it go if she was willing to spend time with him in her grove. He wasn’t about to complain about the extra attention.

One of the invisible servants appeared at the door to the balcony, offering Sakura a pair of heels to change into. Sakura stepped out of her slippers and reached for the shoes already inscribed with world walking spells painted down their undersides.

Sasori reached before the servant could and knelt next to her side with one of the shoes already in hand. He took her heel and slid the first shoe on while Sakura balanced a single hand on his shoulder. When he helped her with the second shoe he almost didn’t let go, but realized himself before she could notice his absentmindedness.

“I should inscribe a pair for you too,” Sakura admitted as he stood.

“You want to gift me a pair of heels?” he teased in a flat monotone to contradict the excitement in his heart from being so close and intimate.

“Absolutely,” Sakura joked. “I think it would do wonders for your ass.”

Sasori snickered but offered his arm for her to take. When Sakura took her first step there was a familiar click from her heels on the marble before magic began to ripple around them. The scenery melted like a water painting in the rain but Sakura led Sasori straight through the mess and through a fluttering of dragonfly wings before the world became solid once more. There was no more click or clacking sound as her heels touched down on the grass, but there was still an unnaturalness to the way she walked perfectly on an imperfect surface.

“How long did the enchantment on your shoes take you?” Sasori asked as the last of his nausea abated.

“A decade, but I was less fastidious about the design. My master had a pair she worked on for twenty five years. Those boots could take her across oceans even if she never had visited the place before,” Sakura explained.

“I think your heels are plenty impressive, but I’ll be sure to discover some less dizzying way to migrate long distances,” he begrudgingly admitted.

“Careful, you’ve been too kind with your complements recently. You wouldn’t want me to start suspecting you to be sweet on me, would you?” Sakura teased with a coy expression before pulling out of Sasori’s hold to walk ahead of him.

In front of them was a grove of dead and ugly looking trees, all helplessly barren with more thorns than life.  As Sakura approached the trees, they started to pull themselves up, stretching taller and farther than any blackthorn tree had a right to be before their branches began to tremble with new buds. The potential of life was back in their bark but nothing would bloom unless Sakura let it.

The grove was her favorite place to practice magic safely, as the trees had been a gift from her previous master. They were old, dead things but each responded to her magic whenever a spell was preformed correctly. When Sakura did her work the whole field would be a snowstorm of white blossoms and petals. It was also a fair practice spot for Sasori to go to when he was having trouble with his spells. If he was using an insufficient magical output the trees would clue him in with their reactions.

Sasori noticed how the buds remained and frowned at the overall health of the trees. Normally Sakura left them barren until explicitly using a spell, but it seemed as if she was leaking magic… was that on purpose?  

“What are you doing?” she yelled back, already far ahead of where he stood.

“That should be my question to you,” Sasori yelled back, pretending to sound annoyed. “Why are you already cheating?”

“It’s been a shitty morning, don’t belittle me for a few harmless pleasures,” she shot back with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind.”

“No you won’t.”

“Don’t talk back to me!”

Sasori did his best to hide his smirk but he was afraid she could hear it in his words whenever he talked. For as amazingly powerful a sorceress she was, it was painfully easy to rile her up. It was in such moment she showed what Sasori considered her true age. Maybe she was decades ahead of him, but sometimes it felt like he had seen more of the world and lived on it longer.

Hours later the pair reclined on a borrowed blanket set underneath the flowering blackthorn trees, content to watch the petals fall like snow as the magic drained out of the trees. Considering how long and hard he had practiced, he assumed it would be hours before the land was dry and barren again.

“More of our lessons should be outdoors,” he said over tea.

Sakura hummed along, looking as if she was flirting with the idea of a nap. He reached over and took the tea dish from her fingers and set it aside, out of the way. She didn’t protest and didn’t even bother to react when Sasori scooted closer.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Sakura blinked but answered after a pause. “You’re so entitled. What makes you think you get to hear about my problems?”

“Who else do you take to your sacred grove?”

She giggled. “It’s not sacred. I told you I’m not a god.”

“You’re more than just a sorceress though, aren’t you?”  

Sakura’s eyes had all but closed until Sasori spoke. Slowly, she raised her head and stared in his direction. “What would lead you to make such a bold accusation?”

“You’re too powerful to be a sorceress.”

Sakura hummed thoughtfully, searching his face before leaning back and smirking. “Then consider this a time for lessons, boy, tell me what you know of sorceresses and witches. Tell me the truth between wizards and warlocks, the fae and the mage.”

“The difference is in where one draws their power. Witches take magic from the earth and the natural world and are considered the most basic of magic practitioners due to their inability to carry magic in their own body. Not much different are those who strike pacts to obtain magic, like those in the warlock profession. Divine clerics and priest do this with their gods but they like to distinguish themselves from the lot of magic users by claiming their patrons are divine.”

“As if that makes them any different than us,” Sakura giggled. “What else?”

“Some are born with magic already in them and learn to use or harness such a magic through various means. In this regard both the sorceress and the wizard are similar.”  

“How is a wizard different from a spellbinder then?” Sakura interrupted, leaning forward with a knowing glint to her eyes.

Sasori swallowed and thought over his words carefully before speaking. “Wizards memorize spells to harness their powers and are limited by how much their medium can withstand in a given period of time. That is why they would use wands, rods, or even staves to channel their magic through as well as spell components, like ingredients,” Sasori said.

As if to demonstrate Sakura reached up and broke off a dry branch of one of the blackthorn trees. She turned around with the withered thing in hand and shook it once before her magic made it bloom with a flourish of petite white blossoms. From the point golden magic flowed, dropping to the ground and transforming into a pool of water.  

“And you have no such item, so tell me now the reason for it,” Sakura said. She threw the thriving branch behind her shoulder and rejoined Sasori on the picnic blanket. When she sat her skirts flared out around her and sparked with the beaded designs. She looked as if she was clothed in millions of dragon fly wings.

“I am not a wizard. I need no components and I carry no wand, but I do have a medium.”

Sakura smirked and held up two fingers.

“Ah, I meant I do have two mediums,” he said.

“I should know, I bound both of them for you,” Sakura said.

“And I’m thankful to you for that, so quit mentioning it every time you can,” Sasori sighed, feeling his ears heat when she looked at him.

“Continue with our lesson, Sasori.”

He closed his eyes and forced his spirit to ground itself and his heart to quit its trembling. It had been years but he still fluttered at the sound of her voice uttering his name. He doubted he would ever grow used to the way she made him feel.

“I am a spellbinder because I bind spells into my book and execute them thusly. A spell I have successfully transcribed can be read back for its magic effect or burned for silent casting.” He hesitated, watching her carefully. “Or it can-”

“Those are the only two ways I recognize,” she interrupted. When she looked up at him through her lashes it was in warning.

Sasori nodded slowly and silently agreed, deeming it unwise to go against her teachings. It didn’t matter that blood casting was far more efficient than burning or reading, the cost was too great and Sakura refused to let his spells taste his blood for any reason.      

“If one is born a sorceress,” Sasori began, earning her attention back, “it is due to the fact that such a child came into the world through unnatural means or supernatural means, and thus was blessed with their own pool of personal magic. They need no spells written or whispered, but are considered to be the most effect of magic users apart from the singular drawback of their magic pools.”

Sakura laughed. “True, most sorcerers can’t enchant a single shoe on their own.”

Sasori slowly nodded. “My teacher is truly extraordinary to have such perfect magical control and such deep wells.”

Sakura giggled. “You won’t get anywhere with me if you try to flatter this old woman, but I like you enough on your own that maybe one day I’ll tell you my secrets…one day.”

“You have secrets?” Sasori teased back.

“Every lady does.”

Sasori rolled his eyes and played at being disinterested. “I’m not sure I want to know about those types of secrets. Ladies are better left a mystery, thank you.”

“Sexist log. Don’t be such a garden variety vegetable about it.”

Sasori ended up sputtering at her weak insults and that only provoked her further. She was sitting up, ready to chastise him when the magic in the field snapped taunt and they both turned like mirrored versions of each other, to face the center of the field where something was trying to emerge. 

“What is it?” Sasori asked first. He was already on his feet and had slipped one of the books out from its holder under his arms.

“No, wait. I recognize this magic. Let it pass, it’s only a summons spell.” Sakura waved her hand in the air and yielded her protective magic. Like a popped balloon, the furry animal tumbled to the grass and shuffled around a bit before noticing Sakura and Sasori. The fox bound over and stopped at her feet, turning to show off a letter tied to his back.

“There were more efficient ways of reaching you, I’m sure,” Sasori huffed in complaint. He didn’t put his spell book away.

Sakura read the missive and sighed, burning it up before standing. The fox deflated and became a construct of raw and tangled magic before the breeze blew it’s remains away.

“We should hurry back. I need to pack up before my escort arrives.” Sakura forced herself to smile. “I’m not trusted to arrive at the council without one.”

The idea of Sakura being manhandled into a meeting or position she wasn’t in favor of didn’t sit well with Sasori. “I could kill them if you wanted. We could say they never arrived.” He offered her his arm to take as he finally pocketed his spell book.

“The offer is tempting but would ultimately lead to more noise than I’m willing to put up with.”

Sasori inclined his head as the world around them began to melt with the transportation magic. “A stiff drink for the road then?”

    “Yes, please.”

When they arrived back at the tower in the library, they were stepping through the doors that led to the outside balcony. The doorway folded itself up after their arrival, transforming into a nondescript stone wall that was indistinguishable from all others.

If Sakura wanted to, she would have little trouble turning her home into a prison for Sasori. It would be near inescapable with the endless levels and far reaching staircases, not to mention the unfolding windows and doors that shifted position based on Sakura’s will. The tower had been grown out of her magic and was basically an extension of her being, as many magic towers were for prominent wizards and magic workers.  

“How much time do you have before your guest arrives?” Sasori asked.

“Not enough.” Sakura paused to consider his question and tapped her nose while thinking. “But maybe an hour if he’s fast. Don’t feel like you have to interact with him. If possible I’d prefer the pair of you not interact as it would only lead to more exhaustive questions.”

“Why? Is my presence taboo?”

“No, but my tutelage is.” Sakura grinned mischievously. “So please don’t tell them I’m teaching you anything. If it comes down to it, say you’re a visiting friend.”

After four years this was the first time Sasori had to be deceptive with one of Sakura’s guests. True, it was rare anyone made it to her tower, and the most interaction he had with other humans was when he went shopping, but his studies had never been called taboo.

“Is it alright if they know I’m a spell caster?” he asked.

“That was something your family began in you, I only furthered your studies, so no, you don’t have to hide that you know magic. But please keep the fact that I’ve aided you as much as I have a secret. If you were without magic until me it really would be illegal.”

Sasori made a face. “That sounds… seditious.”

Sakura shrugged. “I liked the peace of not having a wizard or adventuring party showing up on my doorstep every month, trying to kill me because they thought I was evil for being an unregistered agent. There wasn’t any real danger to it, but I got bored and tired, so this is the compromise. I follow some shitty rules and they leave me alone. ”

“I can still kill someone for you. That offer is still on the table if you need it.”

“Death is easy, Sasori,” Sakura said, touching his face with both hands. “Dealing the the endless cycle of it isn’t, and I don’t have the heart to break the wheel before it starts spinning.”

The quote made Sasori remember something they had both read and discusses one night over wine and cheese. The cycle of revenge and how it always continued to spin, how an eye for an eye left the whole world blind. How was one to escape such a vicious cycle other than opt out of it when it was their turn to deal violence?

In a rare moment of darkness Sakura laughed at his naïvety and drained the rest of the wine. ‘Don’t stop at an eye. If someone took from me I wouldn’t leave them with eyes, hands, or teeth. When wronged, the one who survives need not turn the wheel on its endless cycle, but instead shatter it without mercy. I do not work in half measures, and if I truly was so wronged, there would be no one left to continue the cycle of violence.’

Sasori had never forgotten her cruelty of effectiveness from the first night they met, and he never would. The monstress beauty she was in the firelight haunted his dreams years later, but there was nothing in him that could complain against it. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

Yet he knew, after so many years, Sakura was not easily moved to such anger. Her displays of wrath were rare and hard won by the worst of the worst.

“I ned to pack,” Sakura said simply before retreating for her rooms.

Left on his own, Sasori busied himself in pestering the library’s speaking tomes for any information they had on visitors to the tower. One of the books admitted it was probably another wizard and that, depending on the kingdom, it could be any number of intellectual equals. 

Another book listed a number of prominent magic users in the neighboring lands and Sasori grew more and more irked as he saw their likenesses painted in ink across the pages. Too many mages liked to keep themselves younger looking than they had any right to. Sakura looked plenty young too, but it wasn’t something she was active about maintaining, but rather a side effect of the reservation and health magic she possessed.

The first hour came and went without word of a visitor, but then the clockwork birds that roosted in the upper levels of the tower showed him what they had spotted, approaching from the north. Indeed there was a young, handsome looking mage on wyvern.

Sasori didn’t think twice but threw off his normal wear and changed into a loose, open front nightshirt and the form fitting black riding pants he used while practice fighting in the tower’s gym. If he could look more like a gigolo it would have to come out in his acting. At least his hair was a mess.

He heard voices and knew Sakura must have greeted her guest in one of the main halls. It was easy enough to find, no matter how confusing the tower could become on its own.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?” a male voice inquired.

“You should know by now I’m more than proficient in sealing and spatial magics. All I need is this,”  Sakura replied waving a hand in the air where her bracelet sparkled with extra beads.  

Sasori emerged at this moment, rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand and faking sleepiness. The exaggerated yawn caused Sakura to turn and her reaction was priceless.

“Are you leaving already?” he asked, ignoring the dark haired mage who looked just as gobsmacked.

“Sasori?” Sakura squeaked.

He smiled at her guest and it was the fakest he had ever felt. “I didn’t know you were gonna have visitors.”

“I…you didn’t mention having a house guest,” the other male laughed. “I hate to think I’m intruding.”

“No, it’s fine Itachi,” Sakura said, still looking confused and alarmed at her student. “I-Sasori, what are you doing?”

“Seeing you off,” Sasori replied, sounding sweeter than fake sugar. “You said you’d be gone for a while so I wanted to say goodbye. Who is your escort?”

“A court mage from the Konohagakure empire, Itachi Uchiha,” the stranger answered, sweeping a had up to make into a fist above his shoulder. His robes were well cut and draped over only one half of his body, leaving the other side exposed to the more form fitting black shirt and riding pants, not dissimilar to the ones Sasori wore to look whorish. 

“And you are?” Itachi asked.

“Just a friend Sakura invited in, no one important.”

Itachi tilted his chin up and narrowed his eyes. “A friend from the Golden Desert? You must have come a long way.”

“Longer than most.”

Sasori smirked and Itachi’s dark black eyes narrowed and flared with simmering magic. Sasori could smell the pyromaniac stench to it as the Uchiha’s magic made his eyes flash red. Between the two of them, Sasori thought his chances were pretty good if they had to go toe to toe. He had come a long way since the first day Sakura picked him up, and now he was able to do things his cousins could only dream of.

“How long are you staying on our continent?” Itachi asked, phrasing his words carefully as he never once looked away from Sasori.

“As long as I’m useful,” Sasori answered through a rakish grin that had Sakura groaning silently in the background.

“It’s not-you know what, never mind. I’m ready to go,” Sakura interjected.

Sasori slouched against the wall and blew a dramatic goodby kiss as Sakura started to head out. “Come back safe,” he called.  

“Go fuck yourself!” she shouted without looking back.

Sasori felt his shoulders jump with true delight at her words. He wanted to bend over laughing but he stifled it all for a smooth chuckle before shouting back, “I’d rather leave that to you.”

Itachi glared but turned to follow Sakura out before pausing on the threshold to the outside. “Sasori, was it?” Itachi asked. “It might be in your best interest to return home as soon as possible. Sakura is far too kind to say it to your face, but people from your continent aren’t thought of highly here. You do her a disservice by intruding on her hospitality.”

“Nah, I enjoy being alive much better when I’m here,” Sasori answered back honestly. Truly, before he met her Sasori had only been waiting to die and was a pessimistic attitude about anything that happened to anyone. Before Sakura, Sasori hadn’t liked the person he was.

Itachi glared once before turning sharply on his heel and following Sakura out. Sasori watched from a nearby window as Itachi caught up to Sakura and helped her onto the back of his wyvern before following her into the saddle. Sasori glared at how close Itachi insisted on being and knew he had done the right thing to suss out the assholes who thought they knew Sakura better.

“He wasn’t even that pretty.”

Sasori grumbled to himself before passing out face first in his bed, resolved to wait until Sakura came back as patiently as he could.

When Sakura found him a week later, he was on his back under the massive telescope she had fixed atop the mounted platform in the observatory.

“And here I thought you’d greet me as soon as I returned,” Sakura teased, stepping into the room. When Sasori didn’t reply she approached his body and laughed at his sleeping face.  “You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I never would have forgiven you for such a stunt.”

“Does that mean you’ll take me shopping?”

Sakura startled and then laughed as Sasori cracked open a single eye. Before she could stop him she felt his arms around the small of her back tugging her forward. She braced against the ground, one hand on either sided of his skull as she propped herself up. That’s when she smelled the wine.

“Have you been drinking?” she gasped.

“Maybe. It’s lonely without you here. What else did you think I’d do?”

“Study.”

Sasori shook his head. “Not fun on my own.”

“I leave you alone three fourths of the time, how was this any different?” she asked.

“You were somewhere I couldn’t reach.” Sasori closed his eyes and sighed deeply, looking like he’d drift back off to sleep. “Stay with me?”

“Sasori, you’re drunk.”

“I’m lonely,” he corrected.

“Fine, lonely and drunk, but still drunk. Get to bed.”

Sasori tightened his arms around her waist and tried to pull her closer but Sakura was strong so she didn’t budge. “Carry me,” Sasori demanded, slurring his words almost.

It was an unreasonable demand, but he was drunk so Sakura braced and heaved Sasori back, picking him up into her arms and turning him around so she cradled him like a bride with his head resting against her shoulder.

“You weight as much as an ox,” Sakura complained as she carried him down the stairs under the telescope.

“You deserve it, you were gone so long.”

“It was a week you big baby.” Sakura huffed loudly and lifted him higher in her arms before exiting the room and making for the hall. With her passive magic she manipulated the hallways to shorten and contort for her, turning the long walk short.

Sasori reached out and hooked one hand over her shoulder, hanging on as she kept him in her arms. With him close she could smell the soap as well as the wine.

“What are you going to be like if you ever decide to leave? You’re hopeless.”

The arm around her shoulder tightened. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You know, one day you’re going to be strong enough to fight off whoever it was who drove you out of your homeland and then you’re gonna wanna head home,” Sakura said. “They always do.”

“Not me,”Sasori insisted, rising his volume in anger.

“You say that now,” Sakura snorted, pausing to kick his door open. “But don’t sell yourself so short. There’s a lot more to life than this damn tower.”

“Yeah and it all sucks,” Sasori snapped.

“What about your family?”

“They’re only safe if I stay away. I go back…we’re all toast.” Sasori inhaled sharply and then dropped his head back onto her shoulder. “They wanted me to live and I was never worth it.”

Sakura hesitated on the threshold but then pushed in, turning so Sasori would fit through the door. She carried him over to his bed and set him down under the rumpled covers, taking care to pull off his shoes before tucking his feet under the blankets. He pawed at the mattress, turning around only to be pushed back against the pillows by Sakura.

“You need to sleep this off. Getting sloshed while I was out wasn’t a smart idea.”

“You’re a smart idea.”

Sakura snickered, almost choking on the laugh that came so naturally. Sasori was a lot more fun to take in as a student than she first anticipated. He had been moody and dark in the early weeks, but that melted away soon enough.

“I’m going to leave some water and medicine on the nightstand for you,” Sakura said.

When she moved to stand Sasori grabbed at her wrist and she stopped. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving the tower.”

Sasori blinked, eyes unfocused and bleary. “Sometimes you go to that place and it always hurts you, but you shouldn’t go, even if you’re safe in the tower.”

“Someone isn’t making sense,” Sakura teased. When she tried to pull away he reached with his other hand to stop her from rising. “Sasori, I’m going to get upset.”

“Why don’t you age?” he asked. “It’s not that you’re long lived, there is no aging in your body. Why are you so powerful with so much magic when you should have been born with a fraction of what you wield?”

Sakura gave up and sat back down. “You’re drunk, but you’re honest I guess. You want to know all my lady secrets, don’t you?”

“It’s still hurting you.”

“It’s not hurting me. What I did with that power haunts me, there’s a difference.”

“I want to live forever with you,” Sasori whispered, sounding as if his voice was meant for only secrets. “Please.”

“I won’t live forever, I’m not a god.”

“You have the power of one.”

Sakura brushed aside his longer red bangs and kissed at his forehead, inhaling his soapy scent. “I don’t know why I like you enough to admit this, but you’re drunk so you likely won’t remember it in the morning.”

Sakura reached out and a cup rolled itself up onto the nightstand and a pair of tablets unfolded themselves out of space. The cup began to fill with water enchanted to stay fresh for hours. Sasori didn’t look away from Sakura until after she was finished summoning the things his hungover ass would need in the morning.

“You’re astute to have noticed after only four years. The only others who have suspected have been those who’ve known me for decades and my closest associates, but yes, I age too slowly to be considered aged. At this rate it will be thousands of years before I see my first wrinkle. My teacher was the same way.”

“Sakura…”

She brushed the hair out of his eyes and stared too long at the shape of his face. It was a handsome face, one she found herself thinking of when it wasn’t in front of her.

“When I was seventeen she took me to the barren wastes and we hiked for a day and a night to the site of a great but forgotten battle. The carcass of a other-world god was still there, frozen in time and ice. I was strong and had perfect control, but like you said, I had too little magic for my ambitions.”

Sasori tried whispering her name again but his eyes were so heavy they could barely stay open.

“I ate the flesh of that god until my body couldn’t hold any more. I haven’t considered myself human since then,” Sakura quietly confessed, staring down at his face as it watched her.

“Please kiss me,” he whispered on the edge of sleep.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m honest.” He reached for her but only caught her hair, and his fingers slipped through. “Please.”

He was drunk and didn’t know what he wanted, so it was wrong of her, so wrong, but Sakura indulged his request like a mother would, with a soft kiss against his forehead and a wish goodnight.

Sasori touched the spot and almost complained, but by the time Sakura was in the doorway, he was already fast asleep.  

[shereadsandwritesformelanin]

The Baker And Her Actor: part III [The Beach Date!]

Paring: Chris Evans x Black Fem! Reader

Summary: You meet Chris while making a house delivery for the Evans. He can’t get you off his mind and to be honest, neither can you.

Warnings: profanity, sexual content, angst, but overall fluff.

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy! If you have any requests feel free to share those!!

Previous Part(s) → (1) (2)

-

“Baby it’s you!”

“You’re the one I love.”

“You’re the one I need!”

“You’re the only one I see!”

“Come in baby it’s you!”

You prance around your kitchen singing your heart out to Beyoncé’s love on top. The past few days you and Chris had been communicating frequently.

It made you feel some type of way and put you in a chipper mood.

Since you had a day off you decided to treat yourself to a nice warm stack of pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs, and crispy (vegan) bacon.

A perfect way to start a weekend morning.

Flipping the last pancake and plating it you shuffled over to your living room, Haneli hot in persuit.

Today was a relaxation day, and you wanted to watch some quality movies.

Over the past few days of your texting spell with Chris he never much mentioned his work. I mean here and there he brought up but we barley discussed it as if he wasn’t proud.

So this morning you were gonna dedicate this to watching one of his many projects.

“Chris Evans.” You command into your remote.

Error.

“Chris Evans!” You shout

The screen showed many of his different films, all looked absolutely amazing but one stood out amoung them all.

The one where he held a little blonde girl on his shoulder and had a similar scruff on his face.

Gifted.

If the title didn’t grab you the plot definitely did.

“Play gifted.”

“Playing gifted.” Your smart television obeyed.

Just when you were going to trade it in.

-

You were just now finishing the movie and you were blown away.

You never thought about how much went into being an actor. Being able to convey those emotions onto the screen allowing the audience to feel them. Chris, he did just that.

Should you text him?

You decide to make the first move. Picking up your phone you click his contact, and begin typing.

Y/n: Goodmorning, I just saw one of your films. It was amazing :).

The Captain: Really, which one? Also goodmorning to you too!

Y/n: Gifted, and of course you’re amazing!

The Captain: Dont make me ink y/n. 💙

Another adorable Disney reference.

Before you could respond, your phone began to ring the contact image of Chris popping up on your screen.

Why was he calling you?!

I mean of course you all had text, but text can be motified unlike phone conversations.

Just answer dumb ass!

“Hello.” You sqeak

“Good morning.” Chris gumbles, it was obvious he’d just woken up by the rasp in his voice.

“H-how are you?” You stammer

“I’m okay just a bit tired.’ He yawns “better now that you’re on the phone.”

You were silence. Butting youre upper lip not sure what to say next.

His flirt game was strong and always caught you off gaurd.

“You there?” Chris questions

“Yes I’m here, sorry. I don’t want to keep you if your sleepy.”

“No it’s okay- I actually wanted to ask you something.” Chris reassures

“What is it?” You muse.

“Will you go on a date with me?’ Maybe tomorrow evening, if that works for you.” Chris queried.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. This was the moment you’d been waiting for but was so terrified of its arrival.

When was the last time you even went on a date?

“Y/n, your making me nervous.”

“Sorry, i’d love to.” You trilled

“Great, pick your up at 7 tomorrow.!” Chris elated.

You could hear his pure excitement through the phone.

Youem were excited but nun the less nervous.

Shit what am I going to wear?

-

Saturday Evening - A.K.A “Date Night”

“Okay so you got this dress and I’m thinking we need to ensintuate your shoulders and colleebones as much as possible.” Kiara explains.

She rushes through Pinterest to find hair inspiration. Some your like some you aren’t quite fond of. You wanted to look your best for him.

“What about this one?” Kiara inquires showing you a beautiful and delicate up-do.

You take her phone to get a better look, zooming in on all the intricate details of the style. “I love it! It definitely screams first date vibes, should I even call it a date or a hang out.” You mumble.

“Girl gets some confidence.’ Kiara lectures. “He asked you on a date because you’re hot and his intrested take it with pride, he’ll love you, and if he doesn’t I do.” Planting a firm kiss on your temple.

“Thanks.” You coo.

Kiara begins to fumble in your hair, pinning it up and fluffing it’s often. “So where is he taking you?’ She quipped. “Somewhere nice I hope.”

“Well he hasn’t exactly told me.”

You feel her stop fiddling around in your hair. “So you don’t know?”

You nod your head.

“Hm, a man of mystery,That should be fun.” Kiara mused.

Shifting weight in your seat from the pressure of sitting for a while, your breath out. “I hope so.”

“Let’s find you something sexy to wear.” Kiara offered.

-

You both decide on a emerald green slip dress and a gold layered necklace, topping it off with a casual leather jacket.

“You look amazing girl, I need a picture.” Kiara praises.

You twirl around posing dramatically with various poses. Kiara snaps pictures hyping you up with each pose you perform.

“Come look at these.” Kiara hypes

Damn you do look good.

“Can you send these to me?”

Kiara nods her head.

Just when you were slipping on your shoes the doorbell rings. Your clock reads 7 o’clock.

Prompt.

You hurry toward the hallway mirror you had hanging on the wall, giving your hair one last fluff before opening the door.

The door swings open and there he was in all his glory.

He looked ravishing.

He wore a silver chain necklace, a black knitted sweater paired with heather grey saude pants and carmel shoes.

He held a bouquet of beautiful flower. Assortments of different pinks, red, and whites.

So he listens.

“Wow, you look stunning.” Chris praises

“You as well.’ I can take those, at least I hope they’re for me.” You giggle

“Oh yes, of course. Can I Uh set them up for you?” Chris ask rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes.”

You open up the doorway even more allowing him in. Guiding him toward your kitchen. A short trip considering you live in a small loft.

“Vases are up top.” You instruct

Chris nods, reaching up to grab one of your many vases.

When he stretched up his shirt untucked revealing a lower back tattoo.

God this man has tattoos as well.

You couldn’t help but stare not only was it intresting but it was really hot as well.

Chris peaks his head over his shoulder catching your gaze in his peripheral.

Shit.

“See something you like?” Chris teases a cocky smirk painted on his face.

You drop your head biting your bottom lip. You’d been caught and the man sure knows how to make you nervous.

I was starting to believe he did that on purpose.

Suddenly you notice Kiara hiding behind the slight wall that separated the kitchen and the living space.

“What are you doing?!” You mouth.

She smirks. Then begins to suggestively dry hump the air and make satisfied faces. “Introduce me.” She mouths back

You roll you eyes giving in, motioning for her to come over.

She smiles in victory, brushing down her outfit quickly.

“So y/n before you leave- oh I’m sorry I didn’t know you were here.” Kiara lies

From anyone who didn’t know who the actors was in the room, they’d think it was Kiara how well she put on an act.

You stare at her hoping she didn’t go overboard.

“Oh erm, hello.” Chris greeted

“We were just living, Kiki I love you and I see you later!”

You hoped Chris got the message, luckily he did.

He quickly dried his hands, shooting a small smile and wave to Kiara then followed you out your home.

“Which one your?” You ponder.

Beep beep.“That one.”

You watched the interior light of a black mid size audi light up.

Sometime you forget he’s rich. He definitely didn’t like to show, one of the many things you like about him.

“Shall we?” Chris says his arm out for you to interlopp.

You smile up at him gripping his arm, feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks.

-

The car ride was anything but queit. The two of you laughed and told embarrassing stories of your childhoods.

“Wait so you actually peed on a guy in your class in sixth grade?”

“True story, I couldn’t hold it!” You retort giggling

“Wow you beat me.’Chris says. “we are almost there it’s just up this way, one of my favorite things to do.”

“So I get to go to a special place?”

“Must mean something, right.” Chris stated, giving you those damn eyes again.

The way he stared at you with so much sencerity made you crave him even more. He was passionate you could tell.

-

“Okay no peaking.” Chris instructs pilling you out of the car shutting the door after you.

“Okay.” You obeyed.

Chris walked you through a seemingly long and tangled path. His big hands covering your ears the whole time.

Eventually he stopped guiding you and removed his hands.

“Is it safe to open?” You asked softly

“Yes you can open now, even though definitely saw you peaking.” Chris teased

“I was not!” You bicker like a child

Finally you allow your eyes to flutter open. Immediately your jaw drops at what you saw before you.

It was the Boston harborwalk, but lit up. The place looked so alive.

There was everything. Fun games, food, and even a Ferris wheel.

“Chris this is amazing.’ You gasp in excitement. “It’s- it’s beautiful I - can we go now!”

“I figured you’d love it, and yes let’s get going.” Chris spoke holding his hand out for your reach.

You comply shyly intertwining you tiny fingers with his. The heat rising to your cheeks, and the butterflies bubbling in your pit again.

You finally reach the boardwalk. Enamored by all the lights and fun that surrounds you can’t help but bounce from booth to booth like a young child on Christmas Day.

“Slow down dont wanna have to put a lease on you.” Chris pesteres

You playfully slap his chest with the back of your hand.

God he was muscular and firm.

Nope not going there y/n stop.

“Oh hush, this is fun!’ You piped. “What should we do next?”

“I was thinking the Ferris wheel?” Chris suggested.

-

Chris’s Point Of View:

The night wasn’t even close together and it was already going so well.

Y/n was perfect, practically an angel.

I could tell she was breaking out shell, showing more of her personality she’d been so afraid to show me.

It was great. I loved how excited she got about the smallest things, how she was a good sport and didn’t fuss over loosing games.

Through all my relationships I’ve craved to have someone like y/n and here she was and she was so great.

Gosh get a grip meatball can’t be falling in love on date one.

Finally we get up to the top of the Ferris wheel, stopping so we could get a great view of Boston.

I watched as you leaned over on the side just enough not to tip over but to get a good view.

How your y/c eyes lit up just like the city below us, the curls that rested on your forehead dancing in the wind.

Perfect.

I pull out my phone opening the camera settings.

I snap a quick photo of you. You just looked so peaceful.

Shit my flash!

My eyes go wide, embarrassed that I’d just been acting like a certified creep ten seconds ago.

She turns to face me comfusion readable on her face.

“Um y/n I’m sorry I- I just thought you looked beautiful.” I stammered.

She slips her tiny hand into mine giving me a small smile.

“Can I at least see it.” She asks

-

We leave the carnvial to go to another beautiful location I wanted to show y/n.

This could quite literally brighten her night.

“It’s just this way.” I instruct holding her hand helping her down the pathway to the beach.

“Are you taking me somewhere to kill me.” She jokes

“Sweetheart if I wanted to kill you, it would have already been done.”

I hear her let out small chuckle underneath her breath.

She trusted me.

“We’re here.” I announce

Her eyebrows raise as she looks around observing nothing but a bland beach.“We’re where?” She ponders

I pick up a small rock tossing it in my hand. “Okay now you’re scaring me.” She says slowly backing away.

“Don’t be.”

With that I threw the rock down on the sand allowing the bioluminescent plankton to give off their blue hue.

I hear the fimaliar gasp escape y/n’s lips as she’d done all night in excitement.

“Chris! What is this?”she quipped

“Bioluminescent planktons, I discovered these a while back when I was having a not good day and needed a walk. Cheered me up immediately.” I explain

Walking toward my side her eyes never leave the ground. “Wow this is astonishing.” She states

“You wanna see something else?” I ask a devient smirk planted on my face.

“You’re just full of surprises.”

“You have no idea.” I returned.

I grab her hand leading her over to the shoreline. “Take off your shoes.” I instruct

She does just that waiting for further instruction.

“You see this.” I say pointing down to the water.

“See what?”

“This!” I smirk lightly splashing her with water

Please be into it.

I watched as she stood there for a moment, mouth agape wiping the salt water off her face.

My heartbeat sped up hoping she wouldn’t curse me out and storm off.

“Oh really that’s what you wanna do?” She said smirking peeling her leather jacket off.

“Yeah that’s what I wanna do.” I mock rolling my arm and pants legs up.

“Fine but I was I raised off avatar and have a strong belief I’m a waterbender.” She jokes

Finally she splashes me immediately damping my sweater.

I’m impressed that she was able to get the much water on my with her small hands.

I attempt to return the favor but she runs away giggling.

I chase after her effortlessly catching up, scooping her in my arms bridle style.

“Stop, stop I’m sorry put me down.” She stammers laughing loudly.

“Nope only soaking you will do for forgiveness.” I say carrying her to the spot with our belongings.

“But Chris I just had wash day.” She pouts

“Wash day?” I question.

“You’re too cute, and caucasian.” She replied

“Cute huh?” I tease.

There she goes again hanging her head low and avoiding eye contact, she was so adorable.

“You know what I want.” I stays breaking the silence

“What’s that?”

“Ice cream.” I say

-

Finally we pull up at an ice cream parlor that looks like it was plucked straight out of the fifties.

I notice you began to shiver. It was late at night and the cool Boston breeze was now turning into a chilling freeze.

Should I do it? Will she be comfortable?

Making sure not to startle her, I cautiously wrap my arm around her shoulders pulling her into me, hopping to add some type of warmth to her body.

She just smiles up at me leaning her head into my shoulder. She fit into my side like a puzzle. I let the tropical sent of her hair infuse my lungs.

God she smelt great.

We get up to the glass display of ice cream. It was so colorful with so many different assortments of flavors I didn’t know which one to pick.

You were bent over peaking through the glass. Squinting trying to decide which ice cream flavor to choose from.

“Decided yet?” I ask

“I think so, can I have the chunky monkey suprise.” She asks the waitress.

The waitress nods grabbing a warm scooper for dig out your flavor. “What about you. what’s your take?” She asks me retrieving her ice cream.

“I think I’ll have what your having.”

“Good choice.” She playfully sasses

I watch her walk over to grab us a a few napkins and extra spoons.

Thoughtful.

“Sir.” The cashier says holding my ice cream for me. “Sorry, how much?” I ask.

“It’ll be $5.78.” The cashier resports.

I dig into my wallet pulling out one of my many cards handing it over to the cashier.

I felt your brown eyes burning into me, watching me.

I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that you were or a bad thing that you were.

“Let’s go, it late and im sure you work tomorrow.”

“Yes I do.” She mutters almost pouting.

We walk to my car. Reaching it I press the unlock butting watching the inside light up.

[CLICK FOR Part III CONTINUED HERE!]

-

Tag List:

@toniilaney​

[meganshinsou-tm]

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter ten: forgive me

❧ genre:  tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: snakes

❧ chapter song: Forgive Me by Evanescence

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles | artist credit

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

Kirishima groaned as he threw a hardened punch, the sharp edges of his fist cutting through his victims flesh like butter. A few teeth flew out, along with a gush of dark red blood.

“I know I fucked up, you can get off my back about it!” He snarled.

Bakugou chuckled and wiped blood from his cheek before gearing up to land his own solid punch. Sheer brute strength was all he needed for his knuckles to break skin as they landed on a strong jaw, causing an agonized groan in return.

“Tch, acceptance is the first step. Now you just need to grow some balls and tell her!”

The two panted, red eyes staring back at each other, both covered in blood.

“Please, stop no more -” a voice choked out, causing both men to look at the battered and beaten victim they were using as a punching bag, a literal punching bag.

He was hanging upside down in an abandoned warehouse, swinging back and forth every time Kirishima and Bakugou laid into him. The man was what they deemed ‘the usual’, serial rapist and woman beater. 

He had evaded law enforcement and heroes for quite a while, leaving them no other choice than to call in reinforcements, i.e. the The Shop. 

After finally tracking down the man that not even the pros could catch, Bakugou and Kiri decided to give him a dose of his own medicine and let off a little steam of their own. As much as the blonde wanted to pulverize his numskull friend he decided to give him one last shot to fuck up before it came to that. And it goes without saying that Kirishima needed some kind of outlet to rage about what he had done.

“Bakugou, I can’t, look at us!”

Kirishima shouted, holding up his hands, showcasing the blood and bile dripping from them that wasn’t his own, but that of someone he was paid to kill, paid to be their executioner. 

He was a monster, a chaotic good monster but nonetheless - a monster. 

He could only imagine what you would think if only you knew what he was doing right now, no matter how disgusting and undeserving of life this criminal was. When Kirishima’s hands weren’t covered in black latex and ink, they were drenched in his own type of ink which was the blood of his targets.

“She doesn’t need this in her life, she doesn’t need all this violence and filth. That fucking -” he paused and sighed defeatedly, a hand combing through his hair, the blood on it slicking his already red hair to the side, “… that goddamn fucking smile of hers is the only clean and pristine thing any of us have anymore, it’s not right for us - for me to dirty it.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t you think she should be deciding what she does and doesn’t need,” he replied before sending the body between them straight into Kirishima with a swift and hard kick, the sound of ribs cracking and agonized screams filling the ambiance.

“Look, that nightmare, those scars, those fucking burns, they’re all there for a reason and from the looks of it, a real shitty reason. You think you’re protecting her by doing the childish bullshit you’re doing but in reality you’re not. If anything she needs someone like you idiot, needs to know that you will protect her. I’m not stupid and I know you aren’t … to an extent. Her ex did that and she isn’t telling any of us a damn thing about it which puts up a lot of fucking red flags, if I had to bet, I’d bet she ran away from him and she’s hiding out meaning he’s looking for her.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, the sounds of screaming and incredulous pleading giving him a migraine. 

With a growl he took the man’s head between his hands, “See you again in hell fucker,” he spout out before explosions erupted from his palms, obliterating the skull that was once there to messy pieces. 

With a relieved sigh Bakugou stood straight and shucked the blood and brain matter from his hands and off his shirt as he walked to face Kirishima, fire-red eyes burning into him.

“What are you gonna do when he finds her huh - and takes her back, away from us, away from you.”

A car horn blaring as it passed by the shop caused Kirishima to jump. 

His heart beating rapidly from the small scare. He groaned and let his head fall into his hands, foot tapping impatiently on the floor while he waited before the counter. He had been there for half an hour already, way earlier than he usually is, but he had to get there first, had to be the first one to see you.

Two full, excruciatingly long days had passed since he last saw or spoke to you. The image of your dull (e/c) eyes and face devoid of a smile burned into his brain, an image he never wanted to see again. Kirishima wanted to see you walking through the door, bright as ever, eyes sparkling and you overall radiating. 

He missed you, god did he miss you. 

Just walking into the shop that morning he could faintly smell your chocolaty scent, a scent he had grown so used to and even developed an addiction to. While Kirishima waited, his read eyes skimmed over your sketchpad that still remained on the counter by the shop computer.

Since joining them you took up an interest in learning how to draw and from the looks of it, you had promising skill. The book was filled with mostly just doodles and rough sketches of your favorite anime characters. There were random eyes and hands, flowers and animals here and there. A twinge of a smile crossed Kirishima’s face and he thought back to the multiple times he’d watch you sitting in the same spot he was, doodling away. (H/c) strands of hair falling into your face and your hand brushing and holding them out of the way, tongue in cheek, eyes focused. Sometimes you’d growl in aggravation from messing up and others you’d snicker to yourself at something off the wall you’re mind came up with. It was creepy to say but Kirishima really did enjoy just watching and admiring you from afar, lost in your own little world making these cute faces and sounds. 

He chuckled and closed the sketchbook - fuck he missed you.

After his ‘heart to heart’ with Bakugou, Kirishima was more than ready to return to the shop. He was hellbent on apologizing from the moment you stepped foot through that front door.

The bell to that exact door rang suddenly, making his red eyes look up and dilate.

“Hey Red.”

A smile grew on Kirishima’s face, one razor sharp fang peeking out as he looked upon you. You wore black skinny jeans and a black hoodie, a long grey coat layered it. The hood was on your head and you removed the sunglasses, revealing those sparkling pools of (e/c). Your eyes squinted at him and a smile of your own grew, it couldn’t be helped and it made the red-head a puddle.

“Hey there little one.”

A gust of wind blew through the still open door and you shuddered, quickly closing it and getting covered in even more snow flakes. Kirishima couldn’t help but inhale that sweet scent he loved so much when it carried along with the wind and came his way. Not being able to take it anymore he had to ask.

“What is that?”

You looked up at him, dusting snow from your clothes and quirked a brow, “What is what?”

“That smell, whatever you wear almost every single day. It smells like chocolate.”

Giggling you pulled the hood from the hoodie down and shook like a dog.

“Sympathy for the Skin - it’s this lotion I use religiously and it’s pretty much engraved in my skin now. There’s all kinds of stuff in it, cocoa butter, almond oil, bananas and vanilla.”

Kirishima hummed and burned the name of the lotion into his memory.

“Well it smells really good - you smell really good.”

You smirked and leaned on the counter, arms crossed and tilting your head at him. “Are you trying to butter me up Kiri?”

The tattooed male chuckled and gently plucked a snowflake from your eyelash. “Maybe … is it working?”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and tilted your head, gently motioning his hand away from your face before standing straight and going to walk into the kitchen.

“You’re something else Kirishima,” you mumbled.

Suddenly there was a hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“(Y/N) … please, hear me out.”

The touch felt like fire, causing you to be back in that truck, wrists pinned to the ceiling by the same hand. At that point in time the fire was welcoming but right now, you weren’t quite sure what it was but deep down you longed for it to feel as good as it did before. There was a desperation in Kirishima’s voice as he pleaded, when your head turned around just the tiniest bit to get a peek, you could also see the desperation in his eyes. Those enraging beautiful red eyes.

“Goddammit,” you spoke under your breath before your hand turned, palm open to him, “Fine, but I need some tea.”

Kirishima was somewhat taken back by your action. Nonetheless though he wasted no time in taking hold of your hand, letting you lead him into the kitchen before letting go and going to dig through the cabinets for your favorite tea. The male took it upon himself to take the kettle and fill it with water as you gathered two mugs. He placed the kettle on a hot plate that sat next to the sink then watched you prep the mugs with the tea bags before going to sit at the small table.

He turned to face you, leaning against the counter and rubbing the side of his neck. You sat in the chair, leg crossed over one knee and arms crossed. There was a look on your face, one that told him he should get to talking and fast. For once he was intimidated - by little old you.

“I’m sorry,” he started off.

You shrugged your shoulders and tilted your head, “I know you’re sorry, now apologize.”

“What?”

“Feeling sorry isn’t an apology, they’re two different things. One is an emotion, a feeling of regret, while the other is an action, it’s you expressing that regret.”

Kirishima’s red eyes widened, he was speechless. He knew you’d probably be reluctant when it came to forgiving him but he didn’t expect for you to be well …like this.

“Okay. I’ll start with saying I fucked up, I know I did. You asked me not to poke anymore for information and I did, I tried pushing you to do something you weren’t comfortable with and that was wrong of me. I apologize for also just kissing you like that, even if I did intend to just shut you up at first, it wasn’t the best thing to do and only made things worse.”

You listened, not once taking those (e/c) eyes off of him, it made him feel so exposed for some reason.

“Most of all though, I apologize for what I said to you. I tend to want to get the last word when I’m heated like that, I end up saying things I don’t mean, really shitty things. I hope you know by now that obviously what I said was a lie. Truly, I wish I could go back in time and just take it back.”

“Well you can’t,” you quickly replied making Kirishima wince at your sharp words, “ … but I can tell you’re sincere and that you really are sorry so - that’s a start.”

Suddenly your frame was picked up from its seat, feet hanging in the air when strong thick tattooed arms caged you in a massive bear hug. Your face was squished against a hard and heavenly smelling chest, arms dangling at your sides and eyes wide with shock. Kirishima was spewing ‘thank you’s’ as he rocked back and forth, holding and squeezing you like a child with their most precious stuffed animal. You couldn’t exactly breathe but you also couldn’t help but giggle.

“Kiri, I’m uh, I’m losing air.”

The red-head gasped and quickly released his iron hold causing your body to slip from his arms with a yelp and almost fall over when your feet hit the ground. Thankfully he thought fast and grabbed you by the elbow, helping to steady you again.

“Uh - I’m sorry, I don’t really register how small you are compared to me and forget my own strength sometimes.”

Nodding, another giggle escaped your lips, “It’s fine, just took me off guard, that’s all. I wasn’t really expecting such a thing from you, it’s like you’re a massive overly excited puppy.”

“I’m just relieved,” he breathed out while straightening your clothes and hair back to normal.

“Well, I accept your apology but you’re not off the hook just yet!”

The tea kettle went off, causing you to both jump at the noise and chuckle.

“That’s fair,” Kirishima replied as he turned to turn off the hot plate and remove the kettle. “Is there something you need me to do, punch myself, walk around with the word ‘asshole’ drawn on my forehead all day?”

You quirked a brow, shocked at Kirishima’s desperation. From the sound of it, he was willing to do almost anything for your forgiveness. He seemed to be at your mercy and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t entertaining. There were so many things you could probably get him to do, public humiliation, self-mutilation, maybe make him shave off all his hair? 

Nah, you liked his hair, that needed to be left alone. You needed to think of something that would really show he didn’t mean those crummy words. A representation of the real Eijirou Kirishima.

Soon a mug was placed in front of you, before you could ask for honey Kirishima was already pouring some for you, he even knew exactly how much to pour which made you smile. After being handed a spoon, Kiri took a seat and took a sip of his own tea then looked at you, awaiting his sentence.

“I got it! Everyone in this shop has gone with me on shop runs - everyone except you,” you leaned over and poked Kiri’s chest making him chuckle, “That’s your first trial, chauffeuring me around from place to place for supplies and just spending the day with me. I want to see how we truly get along without any bets in place, you’re not required to act nice if that’s truly someone you’re not, I don’t want the fake Eijirou, I want the real one.”

“I can do that no problem. What else?”

You snapped your fingers and smiled, “You also owe me lunch, a really good lunch too!”

“Is that all?”

To be honest Kirishima was shocked at the mercy you were having on him. Spending the day with you and having lunch together didn’t sound bad to him at all, in fact he was more than excited to spend this time with you, one on one. He was ready to start fresh and redeem himself.

“No that’s not all, I just can’t think of anything else right now but I will. I’m only being so merciful because I’m pretty much over this now and it’s not something I want to dwell on. I really do want to be friends Kiri and to hold a grudge and be bitter about things doesn’t help. So now, where we go from here is all up to you.”

And there it was finally, the pressure. The pressure to not fuck this up royally, again!

Kiri let out a breath before nodding with a determined look on his face. “Alright little one, what do say we get these trails started?”

You moaned and groaned after plopping into the passenger seat of Kirishima’s truck, hands gripping at your stomach as you felt it eating away at your spine and body slumping over onto the middle console. Kiri settled in his seat by now and looked down at you.

“Eijirou, I’m dying here.”

“(Y/N), throughout the whole store you got every single free-sample there was, plus a massive slurpee and a cookie!”

Whining even more your buried your face into his arm, “Those were just teasers! Now feed me real food before I start to shut down!”

“Yes your majesty,” he chuckled and started the truck before taking off.

For the next ten minutes you went from groaning to being completely silent and almost lifeless. At one point Kirishima really thought you were dead before a sneeze left you. 

So far the day was going well and you were getting along as if nothing happened. The first stop was to get tattoo supplies and you left Kiri to get everything like you would with the others since they knew exactly what to look for. After that it was off to get bulk supplies like paper towels, gloves, drinks for the kitchen, cleaning materials, etc. 

Quickly Kiri learned why all the guys hated going to that one place with you, not only did you specifically seek out free food but you had this bad habit of just dipping off out of nowhere, silent as a ninja. Each time Kirishima wouldn’t notice until he was talking to himself and turned around to find you nowhere in sight. His heart would drop every time and he’d frantically search for you. Eventually he made it a rule that you walked in front of him at all times. It was like shopping with a child basically but still you were so cute to him.

It was nearing Thanksgiving and the stores were displaying all their Christmas items - tree, lights, figures, ornaments. Anytime something bright and shiny caught your eye, Kiri found himself being jerked by the hand and dragged to the point of interest. Each time he could��ve easily stopped you but he didn’t want to. Not once has he ever witnessed this much of you, normally he’d shack up in his studio and avoid being around you or leave if he was around you too much. 

He wasn’t used to all the touchiness, you absentmindedly clinging to his arm if someone gave you an eerie feeling, tugging at his clothes or shaking him when another free-sample stand popped up, and the hand-holding, so much of it. He wasn’t blind or new to any of the stores you stopped by that day, he knew where to find certain items, but still when it came time to look for the next item on the list you’d grab his massive hand in your small one and lead the way as he’d pull the buggy.

Kirishima knew you were a touchy person, hell he’d even seen you dragging Shouto, the most reserved of them all around the shop by the hand to show him something so he shouldn’t feel that special about it but he did. Yet at the same time it didn’t feel off, it felt right. 

Just like it did that night at Sero’s, holding and keeping you close to him like it was the most normal thing ever. It could become normal too, if he really tried, he could have you like this every day. Still though, Kirishima was unsure about whether he should truly retire his whole ploy to keep you at a safe distance. 

Did he want you? Of course he did. Most of all though, he wanted to keep you safe he just couldn’t decide though whether being with him really was safe or not for you.

“Are we there yet?”

Kirishima looked down from the road briefly to see you still laying over on the console, chin resting on your forearm as your finger traced the squares of the flannel fabric dressing his arm.

“Almost little one. You okay? You’re really quiet.”

With a small smile you nodded, “I’m just hungry Red.”

Kiri chuckled and licked his bottom lip, “Well where we’re going, you can eat to your pretty little heart’s content.”

“Oh Kiri don’t tell me that, I’ll make you regret it!”

Soon the truck came to a stop and Kirishima unbuckled his belt. He leaned over you, looking at each other eye to eye. 

“Try me.”

“Thems fighting words Red, are you challenging me!”

A razor sharp smile was now on the red-heads face, making you smile just as wide, you knew what was coming and you were already agreeing.

“It’s not so much a challenge when I know I’ll come out on top little one. You see I have a pretty insatiable appetite myself and I’m sure it’s much bigger than yours.”

Your lips pouted, a prideful gleam sparkled in your eyes, “Tsk, tsk! You may be twice my size but I’m positive I can eat just as much food as you, if not more!”

A sharp tooth bit down on Kiri’s bottom lip at the sound of a challenge. 

Last time the two of you made a bet it didn’t end well but this one was harmless. Something inside of the red-head liked to challenge you, and he could tell you liked it as well. You were such a little spitfire and he loved it. 

He hummed in amusement and let his hand fall next to your head, his thumb brushed over your parted bottom lip mindlessly but neither of you minded.

“How about you put your money where that pretty little mouth is then?”

“You’re on, first one to tap out has to pay for the meal,” you spoke before nipping at the thumb still on your lip and making Kiri snatch it away with a smile.

You sat up to unbuckle the seat belt and waited while Kiri got out and came around to open your door. He helped you hop out of the tall vehicle, neither of your hands letting go of the other even after your feet were on the ground. He closed the door and walked you across the street, when you looked and realized where he had brought you, a massive shit eating grin spread across your face. 

It was one of the conveyor belt sushi places, where you could get a lot of food for your dollar and the perfect place for a food eating contest.

“You done messed up A-Aron!”

Shaking his head, Kirishima let go of your hand and slung an arm around your shoulders before leading you into the restaurant and to begin your little game.

After sitting down you both agreed that whoever had the most plates by the time you were ready to leave would be the winner, giving you time to actually enjoy yourself and not throw up in the process. As time passed you’d talk, you told Kirishima about the tattoo Sero gave you and about Hitoshi who was probably still passed out in your bed. You both ate plate after plate of sushi in between chatting and had two stacks piling up rather quickly. The employees had to be used to shenanigans like this everyday so neither of you felt particularly bad about the massive amount of food being devoured.

“So, you still haven’t come up with my last trial,” Kiri asked as he stacked another plate and leaned back in his seat.

Your head shook in response and you chewed on a piece of sushi that was a little too large for your mouth. The man chuckled at how fat your cheeks looked and leaned over to wipe a small amount of soy sauce from the corner of your mouth before licking his thumb clean.

“Indirect kiss,” you muffled.

“Whatever, finish your food before you choke,” he replied and took a sip of his tea.

You quirked a brow and finished chewing then proceeded to swallow your food with a loud gulp, “Oh I never choke, Eijirou.”

Kirishima quickly covered his mouth and choked down his drink, you started to cackle at him then groaned and grabbed at your stomach when it hurt to laugh from being so full. Your face landed on the table, lulling side to side in misery.

“That’s what you get,” Kiri snickered at your pain, “are you done?”

“Never,” you groaned out pathetically.

Smirking the red-head crossed his arms and leaned onto the table, one of his hands reached out and gathered your hair from the surface before it could land in the dirty plates and tucked it to one side. 

“Well I’m done, you win.”

You quickly shot up and glared at the man, “Lies, you’re letting me win!”

“It doesn’t matter I was going to pay for the meal anyway. Plus, you proved me wrong, you really can put away just as much food as I can, maybe you ate a plate or two more, so you really did win.”

You turned from looking at him and to the plates, he could tell you were counting them. After a few moments you turned to the electronic screen, browsing through the menu with a determined look on your face. Kirishima couldn’t help but chuckle at your resilience, even if it was just a silly contest he liked how headstrong and iron-willed you were.

“I do have one more plate than you but I still have room for dessert.”

“Of course you do!”

After selecting a parfait you sat back in the seat with a disgruntled huff and hands rubbing your bloated stomach. 

“So, anywhere else we need to go before we head back to the shop?”

“Actually yeah, I need to stop by the pet store and get some dog food.”

Your eyes widened and twitched, “Dog food? You have a dog?”

“No little one, I like to have a nice bowl of it before bed every night.”

Right as the words left his mouth a chopstick was flying straight for Kirishima’s face. He quickly deflected it and laughed. You rolled your eyes and picked your parfait up off the belt and started to eat it.

“What kind of dog?”

“She’s a pit bull, I rescued her from the shelter last year,” he replied and took his phone out, scrolling through his pictures and then showing one to you.

“Aww, Ei! She’s precious! Look at the sweet pupper, oof look at her snoot,” you cooed.

Kiri continued to show you more pictures of the grey and white dog. There were pictures of them together on the couch, at the park, even some of her and the guys. The tattooed man told you stories of her, that she was pretty goofy and playful but also a big snuggle bug. The dog was like a child to him and it was adorable to see him gleaming over the animal. 

Seeing this side of Kiri was exactly what you wanted. When he wasn’t thinking too much about it, he seemed to really open up to you, almost like breathing. He really was trying hard to fulfill his quest and you appreciated him sharing this part of his life with you.

“What’s her name?”

“It’s Duchess. She’s a little spoiled,” he smiled and finally put the phone away.

“I can’t believe I’m just now finding out about this, it’s like you were trying to hide your child from me. I want to meet her one day!”

Kirishima smiled while pulling out his wallet and started to pay for the food with the machine at the table. 

“Next time I’m out at the park with her, I’ll let you know. Or -” he put his wallet away and smirked as he leaned back in his seat so casually, “You could always come over, you know to meet my dog.”

“Well I mean, if that would please your dog then maybe.”

With a smile Kirishima stood from his seat and walked to yours, holding out his hand to help you up out of your own, “I think it would please her very much.”

After leaving the restaurant, you made a stop by the pet store. Overjoyed you quickly ran inside and for once left Kirishima in the dust. He chuckled and jogged in after you, yelling to wait up. 

With big bright eyes and a massive smile, you awed over all the animals, needing to pet every single one of them. A bunny here, a ferret there, a couple of kittens. Next you made it over to the birds, pressing your hands to the glass and marveling over their bright colors, baby talking to them though the barrier. 

Not once did Kirishima interrupt, he was too caught up in how happy you were to interact with all the animals. He had a feeling that the moment you met his dog, he’d become like chopped liver. 

After having your fill, you turned and looked at the red-head then behind him at the aisle markers. Taking his hand you went to walk towards the dog food aisle but Kirishima didn’t budge, causing you to grunt as you pulled.

“Kiri, dog food is this way.”

The man nodded and rubbed the side of his neck with his free hand, “I know but let’s go down this aisle and around.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, you turned to look in the right direction, not seeing anything strange or out of place.

“Why,” you chuckled and tugged, “Let’s just go this way, plus I want to see the reptiles and they’re right there,” you pouted with the biggest most pathetic puppy dog eyes and pointed.

Kiri’s hand squeezed yours and he looked conflicted, finally though he gave in and let you drag him towards the right aisle. 

“Those stupid pretty eyes,” he thought with a smirk. 

You came to a stop before the reptiles, bending at the knees slightly to get a better look at the ones on the lower level. Kiri left you to look at them as he went and got dog food, after locating the right brand he got the biggest bag and turned to make his way back to you.

“Okay, little one let’s get - ah,” the massive man yelled when he turned the corner to you holding a snake in his face.

Quickly Kiri turned away, his fingers gripping the dog food.

“Isn’t it cute? They let me hold it,” you chimed and brought the snake back to your chest as it sat like a rock in your hand.

“Cool, now put it back and lets go.”

Your brows furrowed yet again, a quizzical look on your face. 

“Kiri what’s wrong? It’s just a little sn - ake,” you spoke slowly after finally realizing what must of been the issue this whole time.

First Kirishima didn’t want to walk down the way you came and now he wasn’t even facing you and looking tense as hell. You asked him to turn and look, but he shook his head and mentioned how heavy the dog food was and that he was ready to leave.

“Bullshit Kiri, I weigh more than that dog food, now look at me - please.”

The red-head bared his sharp teeth at the sound of your pleading, so soft and wanting, and totally fucking up his life. Only after a few hours together, you now had this hold on him, like some leash around his heart that tugged in every direction you went, dragging him along like a puppy, only wanting to please you as long as it kept that dumb smile on your face. 

Finally, Kirishima sheathed his teeth back behind his lips, taking a deep breath before he turned around to face you, his red eyes not once leaving your own (e/c) ones.

“Yes your highness,” he questioned, trying to hide his nervousness.

You gave him a soft and calming smile, “Ei, are you scared of snakes?”

“I’m not scared of them, I just don’t like them.”

Your teeth were now chewing on your bottom lip, eyes looking down to the cold-blooded creature in your hands before flashing back up to him. He felt a shudder run up his spine at the scheming yet alluring look you held, almost like a siren. Kirishima knew that whatever you were thinking wasn’t good for him but he couldn’t help but be lured in, frozen in place.

“Eijirou,” you softly spoke and took a step towards him.

He wanted to take a step back but he didn’t, the way his name always fell from your lips was a terrible weakness of his and you were starting to realize it. He could only swallow harshly, jaw clenching and clutching the dog food tighter.

“(Y/N), don’t.”

“I know what your final trial is.”

Kirishima sighed and let his head fall back, an aggravated ‘fuck’ escaping from between his triangular teeth.

“Hold this noodle for ten seconds and you’re completely forgiven, clean slate.”

The tattooed man looked down and cringed at the sight of the reptile. It was balled up in your palms, it’s beady head resting on its body. Bright yellow and pretty fat looking. Up close it didn’t look slimy or really that intimidating, if anything it looked fake. 

Kiri looked back to you, his brows rising and eyes softening with one last plea but you chuckled and shook your head. Groaning, he sat the dog food on the floor and scratched his head. His blood was pumping, growing more nervous as he brought his palms up. Once you started to move the snake towards Kirishima he looked away, taking more deep breaths. Soon he felt a light weight in the middle of his hand and cold scaly skin - and then it moved.

Kiri stiffened and shook his head, trying not to freak and make the animal move any more but it continued to slowly slither.

“I can’t do this (Y/N), take it pl-”

You cut his words off by cupping his cheek with one hand, turning his face to look at yours and placing your other hand on the underside of his.

“Eijirou, you can do this. It’s already been almost five seconds. You’re halfway there. Don’t focus on the snake, look at me. I know how much you like to do that.”

An almost strained chuckle came from Kirishima’s throat but he listened to you and focused on the one thing he’s been focused so much on for the past month.

His red eyes zeroing in on your pink lips, watching as they moved while you counted for five more seconds. Gradually his heart-rate was decreasing and his nerves were settling. Before he knew it the snake was being removed him his hand and replaced with sanitizer, making him blink rapidly and look down. The tension literally melted from Kiri’s body and he huffed while rubbing his hands together and smearing the disinfect. You were doing the same with a pleased expression and Kirishima felt embarrassed. When you looked up to him though there wasn’t any humor or cockiness in your face.

“I’m not going to ask why you don’t like snakes Eijirou. I understand everyone has their own fears and you don’t owe me an explanation about them. I am proud of you though, I’m sure that was difficult for you but facing your fear just for me, it means a lot.”

Kirishima smiled and tousled his spiky hair, “So - am I forgiven now?”

You smiled and rose up on the tips of your toes, hands coming to rest on Kiri’s chest for balance as you placed a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

“You’ve been forgiven since buying me food Red.”

Crimson eyes narrowed at you and you snickered, quickly walking towards the cashier. Kirishima growled and he picked up the dog food before running after you.

“I really hate you sometimes little one.”

You squealed once he caught up and wrapped his free arm around the front of your waist, easily picking you up and squeezing as he gnawed on your shoulder. You giggled and tried to push him away. 

“I hate you too Ei.”

[golden-deer-dear]

How to Say ‘I Love You’ When the Word is Not Enough, Claude x Byleth Fluff Fic (art inspired)

Summary: Claude never had someone touch him before with any sort of affection, so when Byleth does just that, it is a completely new experience for him. Or, five times Claude is touch starved, and one time Byleth returns the sentiment.

Notes: Does anyone remember the 5 times (sometimes +1) fics that were really popular years ago? I miss those. Let's bring those back.

Anyways, this entire fic is a gift to @julls because their art gives me life. Hope you like it!

Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene 3 Scene 4 Scene 5 Scene 6

How to Say ‘I Love You’ When the Word is Not Enough

Their first kiss was honey on a sore throat. It soothed a pain Claude had long tried to hide. But there in her arms, with every ounce of love he was capable of being poured onto her soft lips, it was as if a dam burst inside his soul. He wanted her close, wanted to hold her in his arms forever, and just feel her warmth against him.

It was amazing, strange and overwhelming, something his brain raced to process. Claude had never held anyone like this before. He honestly could not remember anyone ever touching him with any sort of affection at a previous point in his life, save for when his mother touched his cheek and told him to watch his back before he left for Fódlan. This was different. This was something that did not fit into any scheme, but this was Teach after all. She had a habit of throwing him off kilter. 

And it all hurt so much because he knew he would have to let her go. Byleth would leave the warmth of his embrace and go rule a newly united Fódlan. He would have to leave the softness of her lips to return to Almyra and deal with the crown. Even with her lips still on his, the thought made Claude’s heart ache so much for a brief moment he considered forgetting his plans altogether.

They broke apart just long enough to catch their breath, lips lingering close to one another. Claude knew he should go, but he wasn’t strong enough. He craved her touch as if it gave him life itself. And so he dove back in.

This kiss was not as frantic as their first, but no less desperate. Claude’s fingers curled against her back, one hand upon her waist, the other caress the line of her shoulder blade, as he tried to bring her closer despite their bodies already being flush against one another. He felt Byleth’s arm move, her sword calloused fingers brushing against his neck as she reached for his hair, ideally flipping the ends of the soft strains between those talented fingers. 

Claude cursed inside his own head, again unsure how to process such a small gesture with so much weight behind it. Stars above and earth below, but he loved her so much his heart hurt. 

He pulled back, forcing himself not to rest his forehead against hers. He would never be able to leave at this rate. Instead, he settled for a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with joy when it was returned. Byleth’s cheeks were dusted pink, her lips sweetly kiss bruised. She was everything he wanted, and so much more than he deserved. 

“I never thought I could love someone so much that not being close to you tears my heart apart,” Claude whispered, stopping just short of leaning in for another kiss.

Byleth’s face creased in confusion. “I’m not sure how we could be much closer right now.”

“Oh, I can think of a few ways.” Claude laughed at his own joke, a slightly strangled quality to the sound, raising his brows a few times even as Byleth rolled her eyes at him. He was a moron. Best not to think of that right now. It was extremely dangerous territory. He really would never leave if they gave in and were intimate right now. “But we only have a few minutes. And thinking about not being near you, of being unable to hold you like this…” He trailed off in his explanation, unable to describe the ache in his chest. 

Byleth stood on tiptoe to kiss him again, quick and reassuring, too fast for him to drown in her again. “Then don’t think about it,” she said as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “Not for the few minutes we have. And after that, just think of what it will feel like when I get to hold you like this again.”

Claude pulled her as close as he could, burying his face against her neck. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

A few more minutes he would gladly indulge in.

And after that, a lifetime.

/

“Take this to Shamir. She’ll know what to do with it,” Byleth ordered. The soldier nodded and turned on her heel, leaving the room quickly to fulfill his orders. 

And that left them alone. Claude flipped his quill back and forth between two fingers, uncaring of the ink he was splattering onto his desk. He chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to resist the sight of his wife dressed in light cotton, her black shirt hanging off her shoulders and hugging every curve. The sun shone on her through the large windows, creating a lovely picture that reminded Claude just why he liked summer so much. But no, in this case he was weak, and he very much wanted his arms around her. 

Claude pushed his chair back, standing and rapidly crossing the room to his wife’s side. Byleth blinked at him, her mouth opened to ask a question, only for it to turn into a laugh as Claude slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her. 

“Claude, we still have work to do,” Byleth pointed out even as she relaxed against him. 

Claude hummed softly, nuzzling against her cheek. “We can take a quick break.”

“Claude, your stubble tickles,” Byleth chastised, her voice so light Claude could easily picture the mirth in her eyes. 

“Does it?” Claude practically purred. Byleth stiffened in his arms briefly, hearing the hint of a scheme forming in Claude’s own laughing tone. But she did not fight as he walked them backwards to a lounge, sinking onto it while pulling Byleth down with him. He curled around her like a cat, arms still slung over her shoulders and legs propped up around her, as he settled them comfortably against the plush cushions. 

He nuzzled at her cheek again, rubbing more of his beard against her cheek. “How about that then?”

Byleth squirmed in Claude’s grasp, trying to turn in his arms so she could face him. Claude held her in place, not even close to done with his teasing. He moved down, rubbing against her neck and shoulders. His fingers played at her sides, causing Byleth to let loose a squeak as she squirmed harder. Claude grinned widely, loving that he had pulled that sound from her. He was certain he was the only one who knew Byleth was ticklish, and it was a secret he guarded jealously.

“Claude!” Byleth laughed, that light carefree sound she made more and more often whenever she was alone with him. “Stop!”

He gave one more last nuzzle against her cheek, smirking as she shuddered in his arms. “If I must,” Claude pouted.

Byleth was finally able to turn in his embrace, placing a quick kiss against his lips to steal away his frown. “Now, about this break…” Byleth trailed off, cuddling against Claude’s chest as she closed her eyes. “It sounds like a good idea.”

“Those are the only kinds of ideas I have, my love,” Claude pointed out before kissing the top of her head. 

“Shhh.” Byleth lifted her hand to place a finger against his lips. “Nap now.”

Getting a moment to hold her uninterrupted? Yeah, there was no way he was going to argue with that. She was beside him, resting against his chest, making his heart light and his thoughts carefree.

/

Claude reluctantly lifted his head from his place between his wife’s legs, smirking at the noise of annoyance she made as he left. But he was certain he had heard something else beside his wife’s moans as he pleasured her with his tongue. 

Byleth glared up at him, but Claude tilted his head to the side, listening once more for the voices he heard before. Sure enough, coming closer to them were five...no, make that six knights if he was reading the sounds of their shoes crunching against the gravel pathway correctly. He picked out Cathrine’s voice, although that wasn’t too hard since she was louder than the rest of them put together. Thankfully they were hidden by a row of rose bushes. So long as they were quiet, no one would even know they were here.

He knew the moment Byleth heard them as well by the way her eyes widened. She stared up at him with a spark of horror. It was one thing for everyone to know the new king and queen enjoyed a healthy sex life, but it was another thing altogether to be caught in the act itself. Especially if Cathrine was the one to do the catching. And oh, there rose another voice that made the situation so much worse. 

Seteth.

Honestly, Claude did not really care if they were caught or not. He would laugh off Seteth outraged lecture, stealing Byleth away to finish up what they started. Byleth, however, would not enjoy it. She would not be mortified by any means, Byleth didn’t do mortified, but she would be upset. She had grown so much since coming to the monastery, more so after their marriage. He loved being able to read her, but would hate to see her truly upset. Better just to avoid it overall.

But on the other hand…

Claude missed the feel of her. Byleth was lying on the garden grass beneath him, her legs on either side of him, but not touching him. He wanted her, needed her like he needed air in his lungs. He couldn’t help himself. 

Byleth’s eyes grew a fraction wider as Claude gripped her leg, but she offered no resistance as he guided her limb up. He hooked her knee over his shoulder, eyes greedily taking in the display before him. 

Claude raised a finger to his lips, eyes glittering with mischief.  “Shh,” he whispered. Oh yes, this was much more enjoyable than simply waiting for the others to pass.

Byleth slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to regulate her breathing as Claude lined himself up with her. Her eyes fell shut, her head tipping back as her back arched, when Claude slowly pushed himself into her. He bit his lip to stifle his own moan, but found it quite easy to keep quiet. If he was loud now their fun would end. 

For her part, Byleth brought her other hand to her mouth as well, using both to cover the sounds that were desperate to escape from her. Claude really wasn’t helping when he pulled out only to slowly thrust into her again. He could feel her foot move against his back, flexing as he moved within her, channeling the expressions she could not currently put into words. 

Claude bent forward, placing both hands on either side of Byleth’s head. The motion forced Byleth’s leg further up, causing Claude to thrust into her at a different angle. Byleth shuddered beneath him, her moans audible even through the hands still covering her mouth. She squeezed him as if she never wanted their bodies to be parted. Claude fell forward, burying his face against her neck, busying his lips with kisses along her skin to distract himself from the sounds fighting to escape from his own throat. 

And then Byleth’s body went taut. Her hands dropped away as a heavy sigh went through her, unable to hide the noise from the world. Thankfully, Cathrine choose that moment to laugh at something one of the other knights said, completely covering any noise Byleth made. Claude held himself still, one of the most difficult things he had ever had to do, as Byleth unraveled around him. He watched as she came down, joy shooting into his heart like an arrow as she instinctively reached out for him.

The sound of gravel crunching from the other side of the rose bushes alerted Claude that the knights were finally moving on, none the wiser to their rulers’ presence. 

Or so he thought until someone cleared her throat right next to them. “Might want to wrap it up,” Shamir said softly. “Seteth is looking for the two of you.”

Claude shared a look with Byleth, who blinked up at him. He couldn’t help it. He laughed loudly, wrapping himself around Byleth until she joined him.

“Stars above,” he whispered in her ear, “I love you.”

/

“Byleth!”

His wife stopped and turned, a smile more radiant than the sun gracing her lips when she saw him coming toward her. There was so much love in Byleth’s eyes Claude wasn’t sure exactly what to do with it all except try and love her back just as much. 

Byleth waited for him, leaning into his side as Claude threw an arm around her shoulders. “Care to join me for a cozy morning stroll?” she asked. 

“I cannot think of anything I want to do more.”

“Oh?” she said in a teasing tone Claude recognized all too well. It was the same tone he used when he was about to tease her. “Are you sure? We are headed toward the gardens after all.”

Claude quirked an eyebrow even as he smirked at her. “Was that an invite?”

Pink sprang up in Byleth’s cheeks as Claude pressed himself closer, but she held his gaze without issue. “Unfortunately I’m expected at a meeting with Seteth and Judith soon. But I have enough time that I don’t have to hurry, so long as I am actually headed that way,” she was quick to add the last part when Claude’s tongue poked out to lick his lips, mischief flashing in his eyes. 

“Ah well, an actual stroll is enjoyable too.” 

Byleth smile was small and barely there. Those who were not close to her probably wouldn’t even notice it. But her eyes, those beautiful mint green eyes, shone. She looked at him, and Claude could swear he saw stars, even though the sun was already blazing summer heat into the early morning. She kept herself at his side, craving his touch as much as he craved hers. 

It had taken Claude a while to understand that Byleth loved him as much as he loved her. It wasn’t that he doubted her. He just found it difficult to wrap his head around the idea that someone cared for him that much. Byleth wanted him near, did not find it at all annoying when he clung to her. She clung to him just as much. Somewhere, somehow, Claude had come to accept that Byleth had helped him find his heart.

The crest stone inside Byleth’s chest may have kept her heart from beating, but Claude knew how much love she was capable of. It was what made his own beat to her steady rhythm. 

/

Their breathing echoed off the walls of their bedroom, heavy after their recent activities. Claude’s hand curled over the top of Byleth’s head, tangling his fingers in her hair. “I always forget how small you are,” Claude murmured as he leaned over his wife, his bare chest brushing against her own. 

Byleth laid a hand over his heart, the metal of her engagement ring cool upon his hot flesh. She tilted her head up, lips begging for a kiss. She hummed a non committal sound as she opened her mouth. It was a lazy motion, made without any thought other than a desire for her lover. 

Claude could not deny her, knew he would never be able to do so, and accepted it gladly. He leaned in for the kiss Byleth was so eagerly asking for, teeth nibbling at her lower lip. Byleth hummed again against his lips, expressing her approval as she always did through little sounds that were for his ears alone.

She was smiling at him when he pulled away, staying close enough that their lips still brushed each other when she spoke, her top lip catching against his. “What was that about me being small?”

“You are small,” Claude repeated. “My small, precious wife. Light of my life and goddess of my heart.”

“You don’t believe in the goddess,” Byleth pointed out. She raised one finger to caress against his neck, the softest of touches to a spot she knew made him shiver. He could not help the reaction that ran through his body at that simple touch. She knew exactly how to play him.

“But I believe in you,” Claude answered, nipping at her lips again.

Her smile grew, her eyes still hazy with the afterglow of her orgasm. “Oooh, good answer, lover boy.” Byleth’s finger twitched against his Adam’s apple, forcing another shiver through Claude’s body. 

She was certainly proud of herself for that one, if the laughter in her eyes was anything to go by. He loved that look on her, that unbridled joy she no longer hid behind a stoic mask. And he was the one who put it there. This was happiness, laying here with the woman he loved, her body pressed close to him, as they lingered in the afterglow of their lovemaking. How did one simple word manage to capture all that he was feeling in his heart?

“You’ve become quite expressive, haven’t you?” he whispered, his nose brushing against hers. He did it again a couple more times, knowing that it was a super cheesy move, and not really caring. It just felt good to touch and explore all of her.

Byleth blinked, the smile disappearing for a moment as she thought over Claude’s words. “I suppose I have. You taught me how to feel after all.”

Claude’s world came to a screeching halt. That was certainly more of an answer than he was expecting. It was too much. He flopped on his side, keeping himself pressed against Byleth as much as possible while removing his body weight before he could crush her, and buried his face against her neck. 

“Are you blushing?” Byleth asked, although he was certain he could feel how hot his face was against her shoulder. She turned her head, kissing the top of his head with a smile on her lips.

“Leave me alone,” Claude mumbled even as he nuzzled against her neck, trying to hide himself more. 

“Never,” Byleth promised.

And Claude, the very embodiment of mistrust, believed her.

/

Byleth threw a pair of socks at her husband, watching as he blinked up at her in surprise. “What are these for?”

“The floor is cold,” Byleth said simply. “I know you hate the cold.”

On their rare day off, Byleth had taken a nap, only to wake up to quite a shock when her feet hit the floor. A cold front had swept in, the first hint of autumn, making the stone tiles of the monastery chill to the touch. And there was Claude, sitting upon a lounge on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by puffy pillows as he read (it had better not be reports, not on their day off, or else there would be a talk later). He was wearing a simple shirt and pants, the shirt cut with a deep v to reveal his chest. But his feet were bare. He would be upset when he stood up and made the same discovery she had. 

Claude blinked again before a smile crossed his face. He set aside his book and picked up the socks, slipping them on and wiggling his toes at her. “Thanks, By.” 

He blinked again, the smile fading as Byleth continued to stare at him. “By? You okay?”

“You think there’s enough room on there for me too?” she asked. Of course there was, they had sat together on that lounge hundreds of times before. 

But Claude knew what she was really asking. His smile returned as he spread his legs wider, opening his arms in invitation. “For you, always.”

Byleth happily slid onto Claude’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she laid her head on top of his. Claude helped her pull her legs up, one hand staying upon her thigh as she relaxed against him. His other arm wrapped around her waist, fingers tapping against her hip.

Yes, this, this was what she wanted. Every time Claude held her she knew, without him having to say a word, how much he loved her. He’d told her before how much she affected his heart, usually stumbling over the lines or blushing profusely afterwards, but he at least managed to put those feelings into words. 

She always struggled with that. Sometimes she could answer him with her own feelings, but starting the conversation herself was difficult. So she clung to him, hoping every emotion she felt could be conveyed through contact. 

How did she tell him? How did she tell him how grateful she was that he was always on her side? That he believed in her even when others did not? He made her heart feel like it could skip a beat it did not take whenever he stole away her breath. He was her grounding force, as much as she was the stars in the sky for him. She ached when he was away. She ached when he was near, in a completely different way. Both ways were confusing, but nothing she would ever willingly give up. 

“Claude,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose into his hair and breathing deeply the scent of pine and cinnamon. “Your embrace soothes my soul.”

She could picture Claude blinking his surprise again as a moment of silence passed. “Wow By, that was really elegant.”

“Oh hush,” Byleth chastised without putting any force behind her words. Heat rushed to her face, and she knew her cheeks were the deep red that Claude enjoyed seeing so much. “I love you.”

“I love you too, By,” Claude answered easily. He tilted his head back, begging for a kiss which Byleth eagerly gave. It was short and sweet, the easiest way to convey love with more than the word that seemed so inadequate to capture everything he did to her heart. 

But that was fine. Because Claude knew, and that was all that mattered. His touch made her heart feel whole.

Being wrapped in his embrace was all that she would ever need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Personal headcanons that made an appearance if anyone is interested:

1. Byleth is ticklish, but doesn't realize it until the first time she's with her so. 2. Claude smells like pine needles and cinnamon because of the tea he drinks with Byleth. 3. Instead of swearing on the goddess, Claude says things like 'stars above' or other nature related curses.

[ellstersmash]

Three: Fifteen

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solas x f!Lavellan (Modern!AU)

Rating: overall E for Explicit | this chapter T for Teen

|Previous Chapter| |Next Chapter| |Read on AO3|

--

    [  Results were inconclusive. Again. Any last-minute suggestions?  ]

Athi reads the message from Solas, then reads it again. Is ready to send back [???] but her phone buzzes again before she has the chance.

    [  Apologies. That was not intended for you.   ]

She smirks—

no shit

—deletes her question, taps out a response.

    [  :* i miss u too   ]

    [  oop sry. wrong #   ]

    [  Ha Ha.   ]

    [  sry bout ur results :(   ]

    [  Thank you. What are you doing today?  ]

“That Solas?” Sera says, not bothering to look up from her unbroken line of yellow glitter glue. “Tell him to suck it.”

    [  arts n crafts   ]

Athi snaps a quick picture of the mess they’ve made in their living room and sends it to him.

    [  sera says suck it   ]

    [  Of course she does.  ]

“He says hi.”

Sera gags dramatically. “Thought you wanted to help with all this, not flirt with your boyfriend.”

A snotty retort itches behind Athi’s teeth but she stifles it. Rolls her eyes instead and tosses her phone aside, the device bouncing once to rest face-down on the sofa cushion. She picks up a thick black marker with pungent permanent ink, and gets back to work filling in the block letters Sera lined earlier.

Her boyfriend. Gods, but that sounds strange. Childish. Like they go on dates behind the primary school, or pretend not to be having sex in the room down the hall from someone's parents’. And yet she finds herself giddy at the thought. To be fair, it’s all she has for the moment. The thought. He's off on some adventure, and she's stuck here. Again. They'd only had that one perfect day, breakfast and window shopping and holding hands like real life lovers under trees full of dry rainbow leaves fluttering their applause. And then he took a phone call and went home to pack and left first thing in the morning.

She wonders just how often this happens.

How important could it be? Not like a bunch of ancient artifacts are going to up and wander off if he can’t go poke at them right away. A mental note to ask him later, and she moves this poster to the pile of finished ones and exchanges it for another that says “YOUR VILLAGE —> OUR CITY.” Cute, though maybe a smidge too reliant on humans knowing their history.

“Sure you don’t want to come?” Sera asks.

“That’s not—” Athi sighs. “I told you, I have work.”

“Yeah, but isn’t this more important?”

“I don’t know. Do you want rent paid?”

Sera quiets, kicking her legs back and forth as she works. Her glue bottle sputters, spits shimmer all over. A frustrated grunt and she tosses it aside, rolls onto her back.

“I’m just saying you should care is all. ‘S not going to get any better if nobody makes noise, and nobody’s making it for us.”

“Us?" Athi scoffs. "When we met, you said—and I quote—‘So glad you’re not one of those elfy elves.’”

“Yeah, well, therapy’s all right. Besides, it’s not for elves, or not just. It’s for whoever gets stepped on. That means us.”

“I didn’t know you were in therapy.” 

“Maybe I don’t tell you everything," Sera mutters. “Thought of that?”

Athi caps her marker and lays it down. It’s just a feeling, but it's nagging. Persistent. Like and yet unlike the one she still gets when her papae calls her by her full name. Isalathena Sulahnera Lavellan, come here this instant, and it’s heavy on her chest, sitting right on top of her breastbone. Guilty, but she's not.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. Throws it out there before the feeling gets stale and she decides it's something she can live with.

“Nothing.”

“Right, ok, except for it’s not, so come on. Let's get it out and over with.”

Sera sits up, blonde hair sticking out in a couple new directions. “What’s your problem?”

“You! You’ve been acting weird all week, Ser. Haven’t come in for lunch or been home at night, responded to texts—”

“If you think I want to be in the next room while you and—”

“Oh, so you have a problem with Solas? That was one—”

“No!” Sera groans in frustration. “I mean, yeah, he is kind of old, and talks about old stuff a lot, and he’s all”—she straightens her spine into an uncomfortable posture, then slouches again—“but I like him well enough.”

"Then what?"

Sera stares at her hands for a while. Then out the window. Then at the wall. Then back at her hands. Athi’s patience is thin on a good day, and it takes a lot of willpower to keep quiet as Sera opens her mouth and closes it again, false start after false start.

Finally, Sera blurts out: “I want to ask Dagna to move in.”

Athi has no idea what she was expecting, but not that. Searching for some way to relate it to her own behavior, to justify her feeling or shove it aside, she takes so long to form a response that Sera begins to fidget.

“You what?” she asks at last, thoroughly stumped.

“I want to ask Dagna—”

“Yeah, I…” Athi tries to catch up, shuffles through the past month as best as she can in the pause between. “Here?”

Sera squints at her like she's stupid, but that's fair. It was a stupid thing to say. 

“No, my mother's. Yes here!” 

“I’m sorry, I didn't realize you two were dating again. What’s it been, a year since you broke up?” 

“Yeah. You were out at your friend’s place. Better you missed the makeup sex, though, yeah? More room for fun.” 

At first Sera’s cheeky grin has Athi smiling too. It’s a relief to talk about someone else’s shit instead of her own, but then Sera glances toward the couch and—

Oh.

Oh gods, she wouldn’t have . . . would she?

Athi gets up for a glass of water, makes it two at Sera’s request. Sits cross-legged on the coffee table when she comes back. Just to be safe.

“Isn’t it a bit fast?” she asks.

“Maybe. Doesn’t feel fast, though. If you add 'em all up it's been like, a few years or something, so it sort of works out to normal. If you think about it.”

“I guess.”

Sera empties her glass in one go. “Her lease is up next month,” she says.

Athi nods. “Right. So soon, then. Um… and if it doesn’t work out?” She leaves out the again, but it’s implied.

“But that’s why I should do it! See, I keep losing her because I’m not in. She was serious about us, but I kept messing around. Don’t even know why, really.” She looks on the edge of losing her momentum, halfway to introspection, then snaps back into the room. “But therapy! So this time, like Wicked Grace, right? I’m all in and she’ll see I mean it. And then it’ll work out.”

Her logic isn’t quite flawed but it’s far from perfect. Still, friends don't tell friends to be afraid. Especially when those friends have clearly put a lot of thought into their dynamic-altering life-changing decisions. So Athi drops the questions.

“Wow,” she says instead. “I didn’t know you felt that way about her.”

Sera shifts into soft focus and smiles, a faraway look in her eyes. “Me either.”

She seems so certain. Satisfied, and happy. Really, truly happy. And it’s kind of fucking beautiful.

Feeling overcome for no good reason, Athi goes back to her task. Long thick careful black lines, then short ones. She marks a pattern with them to make it less work and more play. Not that anyone will see unless they’re trying. And as she makes the spaces solid, a thought occurs to her.

“So,” she says, bright. Like it’s no big deal. “Do you want me to move out?”

“What? No! Course not. Why would you say that?”

There’s no time to answer. After so much silence, Sera bubbles over with unused conversation. 

“I mean, do you want to move out? You’re not moving in with Solas are you? Gross. Definitely too fast for that one. Bet he wants to get married first, in a chantry and everything. Is he Andrastian, do you know? Where is he, anyway? He travels a lot for work, right? Must be nice. Wonder if his job pays for it. Is he gone now?”

Too many questions, so Athi answers the last one.

“Yeah. Flies in late tonight. He’s picking me up after work.”

Sera snorts. “What, picking you up? So you wouldn’t get up to take him in, huh? Good girl. Stay strong. Trust me, you drive him once and you're in for forever.”

“No, he didn’t even ask. Figured he’d take a cab or something, but I guess he drove himself.”

“And paid for parking? What’s he, loaded?”

Athi grins and crosses her fingers.

“Real nice. I’m serious, Ath, that’s some weird psychopath shit. Nobody drives their own self to the airport. No one who has friends, anyway.”

"I think he's just used to being alone.”

“Way to make it sad.”

"Alone doesn't mean sad."

"It kind of is though. But then, he’s got people, right? Like Varric, and, well... I don’t know. People.”

Athi shrugs. “Habits can be hard to break, especially when you’re not trying.”

“Ooh. Very wise today."

"Shut up."

"I mean it!"

She doesn’t tell Sera about the other things. The books covering all his furniture. The busted bathroom door that he removed rather than replaced. The singular coaster on his side table. The way he forgets to be hospitable, then overcorrects, asks her if she needs anything three times in a row. His house, his life, is not prepared for the presence of others. Not meant to host company or take in strays or accommodate a lover, meant for him and his needs and his convenience and no more.

And she’s honestly not sure if that makes her an exception or an intruder.

--

“Woah.”

The door slams shut behind her. Very nearly catches her in the ass but she happened to freeze just beyond its reach.

The place is gutted. Or maybe it's not? Ceiling and walls are fine and nothing she can place is missing, tables and chairs and bottles of booze all present and accounted for, but it looks fucking empty. And clean, though she can’t tell if that’s real or just the lack of tasteless decor.

“I know, right?” Tali dumps a bucket of ice in the bin with the rest. “It was like this when I showed up today.”

Athi drifts in slow, perturbed by the smell of cleaning solution and the lack of clutter. Hangs her purse on the coat rack just inside the office, her jacket on top of that. Pulls her hair back, ties her apron, washes her hands.

“Were we robbed?” she asks, only half joking.

“Technically, that would be a burglary.”

“Were we burglarized?”

“You know,” Tali says, “If someone broke in just to take those awful knick-knacks and creepy pictures Seggrit had up, I say more power to ‘em. Enjoy your ghosts, thief!"

Athi giggles. “Worst was the cabin.”

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t even look at that family one. The kid’s vacant stare, blessed Andraste, I wanted to flip it around every time I walked in that door. And you know that cat had seen things. I mean, did Seggrit know them? Why were they on our wall?”

"Somebody had to keep an eye on us."

"And make sure we weren't flirting with tall handsome customers in the back alley?" Tali grins, tongue stuck out between her teeth.

"Why? You make that a habit too?"

Tali wrings out and refolds her bar towel. “Ok, sweetie. Keep your secrets. I'll get my details one day."

"Anyway." Athi gestures at the naked walls. "Change!"

"Right. It was Seggie for sure. He was here when I came in. Must have dealt with all that crap this morning, though I couldn't say what he did with all of it. Or why. Oh! And he left that.”

Tali reaches back and raps a knuckle on the fridge where a sheet of paper hangs. Athi slides it out from under the magnet. Scans its contents. Flips it writing-side-out toward Tali.

“The fuck is this?”

“A cleaning list.”

“I can see that. Seggrit made it?”

“Either that or your writer pal is moving in for real.”

“And that’s not strange to you? That he cares?”

Tali shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe he’s decided to rejuvenate this place. You know? Spruce it up, invest a little time, maybe hire some better bartenders.”

“Hey, don't sell yourself short."

"Bold of you to assume I meant myself."

“This is weird, though. Right?" She reads off the paper. "Sweep out back? Deep-clean the office? Dust the brick wall? Tali, most of these have nothing to do with anything. Where are the temp checks? Or the fucking tap lines? Or, you know, any of the shit we should actually be doing?"

“Beats me, babe. I'm just glad he's getting involved. You should’ve seen him whirling around here earlier. Something seems to have lit a fire under his rear-end.”

Another feeling, but she can't place this one. It all fits together somehow, or should. The list and the bare walls and the lack of fire hazards. Chewing on the puzzle, Athi picks a task at random, takes a spray bottle and a coffee filter to the windows. Even free of five years’ grime and in full sun, they don’t illuminate much. But that’s all right. The list says clean, and they are definitely that.

[patandpran]

The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 9

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom’s finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training. What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince’s Squire?

Find the Masterpost here Read on Archiveofourown here.

Lord Mil and Sarawat arrived together on the field just as Man and Boss were completing their story of the two young men’s coming of age ceremony. Tine could practically feel Sarawat’s intense gaze boring into him but as soon as he saw the pair approaching, Tine made a point of turning back toward his work but not before catching Lord Mil shooting him a look with narrowed eyes.

Tine had never experienced hostility of any sort from the Lord so the interaction threw him for a bit of a loop. Tine recalled over the few weeks of training that Mil had made a point of being quite friendly and instantly worried that the Prince had shared the happenings of the evening before with his close friend.

Before Tine could overthink it any more, Dim called the Squires and Knights to attention with a booming voice, “All right. I am sure you all are feeling the effects of last night’s festivities but I have no sympathy for your bad decisions so we are jumping right in today whether you like it or not. There is only one month until the final Knight trails so training is going to be more intense than you have ever imagined. In a week’s time we will be venturing beyond the castle walls on a battle and survival training mission so make you sure you have your helmets on straight for it will be an experience that you will not soon forget. Squires will also be in attendance for this journey of wills.”

The announcement sparked a flurry of discussion amongst the Knights and Squires. Tine saw out of the corner of his eye that the Prince was about to approach him but, thankfully, Ohm ventured over and the Prince froze in place before opting to join Sir Man and Sir Boss instead.

“You disappeared last night.” Ohm accused as he neared Tine. “Mil had us up far too late. I think I consumed a whole barrel of wine to myself. Needless to say I woke up feeling as if your brother was hammering my head on his blacksmith slab.”

“Did I do something to offend Lord Mil last evening?” Tine wondered with his tone lowered. “I mean, I know I am not very warm to him for obvious reasons but he seems to also view me as an enemy now. I suppose that, at least, puts on a level playing field.”

Ohm shrugged, “Mil can be so hot and cold with how he feels about people. Did you say something to the Prince while you two ran off together? You know they are close so maybe Mil is just being protective.”

“No. Nothing happened.” Tine sputtered, trying to keep himself calm so that his best friend did not see through the ruse. He remembered the promise he made to Fong earlier than morning and questioned, “Would you be inclined to see Fong again?”

At the very mention of Fong’s name, Ohm’s eyes lit up and he responded eagerly, “Yes. I mean, of course.”

“Okay. I’ll arrange it.” Tine nodded curtly before noticing that Sarawat had walked over, clearly ready to put on his armour.

“Your Highness.” Ohm nodded respectfully to the Prince. “Tine, I should go help Lord Mil but keep me informed on the… situation.”

Tine smirked at his friend but wished Ohm could remain near them to serve as a buffer but he and Sarawat were going to have to navigate the previous evening’s event at some point and it looked like that moment was now. Tine braced himself for an accusation or a question from Sarawat but instead the Prince was silent as Tine began to outfit him with his amour.

Throughout the whole practice, Sarawat did not say a word beyond what was necessary to Tine. It felt like a sharp wind had extinguished the fire that usually seemed to be lit inside Sarawat. It seemed like something had dimmed and Tine even noticed his gaze was not as sharp as it usually was. The Prince was going through the motions and it was incredibly hard to watch.

At the end of the morning practice, Tine made to follow Sarawat to the storage quarters but the Prince held up a hand and simply ordered, “Thank you, Squire. I can take it from here.”

Tine felt as if he had been slapped squarely across his face as he watched the Prince walk away, his head hanging. Tine turned away from the sight and was met with another intense glare coming from Lord Mil. Tine forced himself to remember his purpose in the castle: rise to take revenge.

This was exactly what was needed to get him back on his path. It was no use to him to build relationships when, ultimately, his goal was to disrupt the very class system that some of those people operated in. The way that Lord Mil was looking at him affirmed this belief for Tine. There was always going to be those who looked down on him, even if he now carried a title with his name and lived within the castle walls. The kingdom was corrupt. The system was broken and even though he know that it was impossible for one commoner to change that, he was going to do the best he could with the little power that he had and that started with helping Sarawat to complete his Knight training.

+++++++

A pair of eyes watched as the Prince walked away from his Squire.

The Head Knight had noticed a while ago that the Sarawat had a unique relationship with his Squire and through the whispers he had heard from the servants, the pair even met outside of the usual training times. The Head Knight recognized skill when he saw it and the Prince’s Squire was a valuable fighter. He would have made a great Knight if he had not been a commoner.

His son had informed him that since the Squire’s arrival, the Prince had changed, some might even say for the better. His work ethic in practice was strengthened and his overall mood seemed to be lifted. Mil, of course, being the Prince’s friend said this with fondness but the Head Knight never approved of his son’s friendship with the Prince. Since they were young, they were meant to be rivals, not comrades. If the Prince was becoming a stronger fighter, this threatened Mil’s station as the Kingdom’s most promising new Knight.

The Head Knight would not have that so he set the wheels in motion to eliminate the new factor of the equation….

++++++++++

The days passed at an snail’s pace and Tine found himself focusing on their trip beyond the castle’s walls to keep himself from imploding mentally. The silent treatment from the Prince had become a daily practice, even during their private training sessions, although they were not exactly private anymore as the Prince had invited Sir Boss and Sir Man to join them which Tine actually found himself relieved about.

One evening during one of the practices, Sir Man approached Tine as Sarawat and Boss were in the middle of a scrimmage. Man looked a bit nervous and Tine had no frame of reference for what Man was going to possibly say to him.

Man cleared his throat and reached into a pocket before revealing a small piece of parchment, tied with a strip of leather. Man looked to see if Boss or the Prince was looking their way before passing it off to Tine who looked at Man incredulously.

“From your brother.” Man explained in a whisper.

At this, Tine’s eyes widened but he concealed the message quickly, wondering how much Man had risked even bringing it into the castle. He knew that Type had made Man’s mask for the ball but he did not know that Man had managed to see Type again after the initial interaction. Type found himself envious of Man but did not bring this up. It also worried Tine that Type had shared their familial connection with Man, a person Type barely knew. It was all so out of character for his brother but Tine was grateful that the link had been made if it meant easier communication with his family.

Man seemed to notice Tine’s anxiety and shared, “Don’t worry. You can trust me. I am extremely fond of your brother. I would do nothing to put either of you in harm’s way.”

Tine’s breath hitched at how open Man was about his feelings. It was a breath of fresh air amongst all the secrecy and concealed thoughts that Tine found himself immersed in. It seemed that he had found himself another ally within the confines of the castle.

“Thank you.” Tine murmured. “Just so you know, my brother is a difficult person to get to know but I have a sense you are up for the challenge. Good luck.”

Man’s eyes danced with anticipation, “More than up for it. Thank you for the encouragement.”

With that, Man ran off to meet up with his friends again. Later that evening, when Tine made it back to his own sleeping quarters, he lit a candle and opened the letter form his brother, buzzing with excitement.

Except the letter was not from his brother, it was in his father’s handwriting and the contents read:

Tine, my beloved son,

Your mother and I are extremely proud of everything that you have accomplished. We have heard rumours from Ohm’s father that you are progressing well with your work with the young Prince. When you first announced that you wanted to be a Squire, I recall wondering for a brief moment: who had I raised?

But I think you know the path you are on. You know where it will lead you and I know that wherever your journey will take you, you will always be driven by your inner strength and morality. Stay safe and stay true.

Most importantly, remember who you are.

By the time Tine was done reading the message for the third time, the parchment was stained with his tears. The ink began to blur but he quickly concealed the message for safekeeping so it did not weather any further. It was incredible to know that his Father knew he needed such a reminder without even being able to see Tine or know what he was faced with.

The internal battle that was tugging him in so many directions settled itself with his Father’s words. He had to be true to his mission, even if it meant sacrificing whatever semblance of a connection that he had built with the Prince.

There was no room for distracting emotions. He had to keep himself focused on accomplishing his goal and ready himself for the battle he was sure would land him in the dungeons. He did not have time to watch the Prince become King, Tine was not sure he would be around for that long after he exacted his plan.

++++++++

“You know, Sarawat, I don’t know if I approve of this new… energy that you are emitting.”

Sarawat looked up from the book he was studying to see Lady Earn regarding him with an air of disapproval. The Prince had not seen his friend since the night of the ball where they had been forced by their parents to dance with one another, even though both of them knew that was never going to happen. Their relationship was perfectly platonic and they liked it that way.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Sarawat countered with a grumble before he attempted to return to his reading.

“No, but I am going to give it anyway as I am your friend.” Earn answered which caused the Prince to close and set down his book.

He knew he should have taken the book back to the East Tower but the chairs in the Castle library were much comfier than the one he had in the tower. He sighed and decided to indulge his friend, “And what exactly concerns you about my energy concerns you, Lady Earn?”

Earn sat down on armchair across from Sarawat’s, adjusting the train of her dress so that she could sit more comfortably. “Before the Ball, you seemed like your spirits were high. You were dedicated to your training more than I ever have known you to be and dare I say it, some of the court members who are not as familiar with you even described you as ‘pleasant’. Now, here you are, hiding away in the library and scowling at anyone who dares to pass by, even a dear friend like me.”

“I am fine.” Sarawat protested flippantly. He hated being under the eye of accusation which is why he liked to keep mostly to himself although he did have to acknowledge his slight change in demeanour ever since the beginning of Knight training.

Earn reached across to rest a supportive hand atop of Sarawat’s. “You seem like you are hurting and while I don’t expect for you to tell me why, I hope that you are able to find it in you the bravery that it takes to be happy.”

The Prince shifted uncomfortably. The thing about Lady Earn was that she was wildly observant and while this sometimes benefitted him, he did not like to be seen in such a way. Sarawat purposefully chose to close himself off from the world so that he did not get hurt and now one of his closest friends was encouraging him to open up again.

“The thing that will make me happy is unattainable for many reasons.” Sarawat explained soberly.

“You are the future King.” Earn stated plainly. “You can shape the world in any way that you please. Don’t deny yourself happiness just because you are worried about what the court will think.”

“I wish I had the same courage you have.” The Prince remarked and earned himself a small smile from his friend. “You would make a much better ruler than I ever will.”

“I doubt that very much.” Lady Earn chuckled lightly. “You have the warmth in you to have the whole kingdom fall in love with you, the drive to make great changes for the better of ALL people and the strength to stand up to those who cross you. You just have to trust in yourself and learn to show people who you really are. I think you would be shocked by how people would respond to the Prince Wat that I know so well…”

Sarawat appreciated Earn’s words greatly but it still not change his particular predicament. “I can’t marry someone who I don’t love.”

“Looks like you have a month to figure out who you love, then.” Earn stood to her feet and with a cheeky wink, she declared,  “And, Sarawat, for the hundredth time, I will not marry you. I know I am one of the most lovely maidens in the Kingdom but… I’m taken.”

Sarawat shook his head fondly as he watched Lady Earn strut her way out of the library, her words of encouragement playing in his mind.

++++++++++

“Father, can I go on the training excursion with the Knights and Squires?”

Phukong had found about the Knight’s expedition beyond the castle walls and wanted desperately to go along for the adventure. Plus, it would give him great opportunity to paint some new scenes and be able to spend more time with Lord Mil.

“We can not have both of our Princes venturing outside of the Kingdom.” The King muttered and gestured for Phukong to leave him.

Phukong stood his ground and bowed down onto one knee, “Please, Father. I know that you want me to be more like Sarawat and, maybe, if I go with them, I might be inspired to pursue Knighthood myself.”

The King made a sound that indicated he was considering the idea and when Phukong raised his head, he saw that his Father was nodding. “I will enlist one of the more capable Knights to over see your journey then.”

“What about Lord Mil?” Phukong suggested.

“My son would be more than happy to protect the younger Prince.” The Head Knight’s booming voice echoed through the throne room as he approached with heavy steps.

Phukong shivered as he turned. He always been afraid of Mil’s father and he struggled to see the family resemblance aside from the thick brows that they both sported. Where Mil was playful and open, the Head Knight had no patience for such frivolity. He was all business.

“All right, it is settled then.” The King declared. “You will join the caravan tomorrow morning with them. I expect that you will strongly consider the path of Knighthood since I am granting this request, son.”

Phukong nodded eagerly before dashing from the room but not before pausing outside of the throne room to catch his breath as he was so excited. As he was about to set off to pack his things after collecting himself, Phukong paused when he heard his father say something quite peculiar:

“If you are so worried about this Commoner, take him into custody. I will not have whispers of treason in my streets. I expect that you will deal with this promptly and discreetly. Last time you did not follow my orders and made a scene that was not so easy to brush under the rug.”

The Head Knight responded before Phukong took off down the hallways, “And so it will be done, Your Highness.”

Phukong did not like hearing things like, especially not from his Father. He understood that Royal duties meant that it was important to keep peace within the castle but this sounded like they were using their swords to solve the problem rather than talk through it. The thought made Phukong ill and he hoped that when his brother was King, violence would not always be the first course of action.

++++++++++++++++

The Knights and Squires were loading up the materials necessary for their journey. The Knights were working in on section and the Squires in another so Ohm and Tine were free to socialize as they pleased.

“You look quite exhausted, my friend.” Tine smirked at Ohm as he tied one of the Prince’s parcels to a horse.

Ohm’s cheeks burned slightly before admitting, “Fong and I went walking at around midnight and I got back to my quarters only minutes before I had to head out here.”

Tine was delighted to see that his matchmaking seemed to be going quite well. “Yes, Fong looked quite out of sorts when he delivered my breakfast this morning. I am happy for you both. It is good to have a positive distraction such as this.”

“You need to find yourself a companion.” Ohm encouraged. “You can’t just spend all your time plotting or training with the Prince. You deserve happiness too.”

At that very moment, the Knights began to head toward their houses, ready to depart. Sarawat still seemed quite distant but there was a more relaxed sense about him that morning, likely due to the notion of a rare escape from the castle to look forward to. Tine muttered, “I have good friends. I don’t need anything more than that.”

“Don’t resign yourself to loneliness just because of your pride, Tine.” Ohm warned before the Knights arrived.

Lord Mil side-eyed Tine and beckoned for Ohm to join him for final preparations. Tine had shared with him earlier that they would be responsible for accompanying Prince Phukong on their journey so there was an added pressure that was sure to be keeping Lord Mil focused on his task. Tine hoped that was what was keeping Mil so abrasive, but this made it easier for Tine to refocus on his own task.

Sarawat finished chatting with Sir Boss and Sir Man who both gave Tine a respectful nod as they watched the Prince make his way over to his Squire. As he held the highest rank of the Knights in Training, aside from Lord Mil, they were at the front of the caravan, something that made Tine quite nervous.

As he neared, Sarawat got a concerned look on his face as he studied Tine. “Are you up for this journey? You look somewhat pale, Tine.”

Tine could not stand this this extreme back and forth that the Prince put him through. Sarawat either ignored him completely, saying as few words as possible, or stepped back into this realm of care and comfort that made Tine’s head spin with confusion. Why couldn’t they find a neutral in-between where they could work alongside one another without Tine’s heart racing at a million miles an hour?

“Don’t worry about me.” Tine stated plainly. “There is only three more weeks until the final Knight trials. Once you pass them, you have the power to choose your own Squire and then we can part ways so… we don’t have to keep doing this.”

The hurt was apparent on the Prince’s face but he concealed it quickly. Tine continued, “Plus, you will be so busy with upcoming wedding plans as well, you won’t have time to worry about a Commoner like me.”

“I don’t know why you’re doing this.” The Prince hissed in a low whisper that made Tine’s cheeks heat up and reminded him of the evening in the East Tower. “It’s like you want me to hate you, Tine, and, well, we both know that’s never going to happen.”

Tine froze at the word ‘hate’. He didn’t want the Prince to hate him but there was no reality where they could be anything more than comrades and it was tearing them both apart. There was something intangible rippling under the surface and if it revealed itself, Tine was not sure how either of them would turn back from it…

How the hell were they going to survive a week in the wilderness when the biggest threat to them was each other?

[sp00ks-odyssey]

Part 6 Swapping clothes

almost done with the self ship (╥﹏╥)

WARNING:

Some injuries occured, Some bits of Insecurities, Some half nudity (don't worry it's not as bad as you think) a flirting Ink Sans, and I'm bad at French sorry if I wrote something wrong

___________________________________

Ughhhhh where is it???

I came out of the bathroom after a shower (Ink said I could take one whenever I wanted to), it's been a few weeks and I was finally off my cast and walking on both legs again, Alphys said that my bandages could be taken off as well and my side was finally healed only a scar there now. 

I dressed myself in my usual favorite type of pants and a t-shirt but there was a problem-

My hoodie was gone:

"Hey Ink have you seen my-"

I cut myself off pausing on the second to bottom step my arms crossed to my chest. My insecurities and hatred of having a little bit of chub on my tummy and not liking the size of my chest prevented me from running around the house without my hoodie much to Ink's constant reassurance that I looked amazing without it. 

I stared at Ink who was standing in the middle of the living room..........with my hoodie on......

It's oversized for me goes down to my knees but for Ink, it didn't go past his pelvis bone, and he was wearing it,

.........without any pants on.

"Oh my stars Ink!!" I stuttered out turning to face the wall, he chuckled at my reaction.

"What?? Does it not look good on me like it does on you?"

"Where are your pants? Your shirt? Your stash?.......Broomie??"

"I didn't feel like wearing any pants, Broomie is over on the table, my stash is on the couch and my shirt is on my bed, do I now pass your inspection Ma Chérie??"

"Your strutting around the house in my hoodie that barley covers you and walking around with no pants on?"

"I mean yeah, I tried but couldn't fit in your pants so I decided to just wear the hoodie, it's comfy can I keep it?"

"Why are you trying to wear my clothes anyways?"

"I wanted to wear them cause they looked comfy"

"Can I have my hoodie back?"

"No"

"Why?"

"Cause you look adorable without it on"

"No I don't"

"Yes you do"

"Arghhhhh!!!"

I looked away from the wall to glare at him, he was blushing rainbow and giving me a devilish fanged grin, I accidentally started observing curious as to how he actually looked in my hoodie. I started looking down my face turning redder, my face felt hot as I looked down to his legs and bare feet:

Oh stars I didn't know he's got tattoos on his legs too!!

"Aimez ce que vous voyez? Love what you see? Mon Amour?" He chuckled his gaze on me full of humor. 

"No! I mean uhh yeah you look uhh g-g-g-g-great but umm there is umm....there...uhh.....I didn't, didn't know you had tattoos on your l-l-l-legs too! I mean-" He chuckled cutting my stammering off and walked over stepping on the step I was on and engulfing me in a hug picking me up on purpose making me have to wrap both of my arms and legs around his torso so we both didn't fall off the steps.

"Merci thanks, I do have tattoos on my legs as well as my spine, ribs, shoulders, arms, neck....if you want I can show you the ones on my ribs and spine if that's what you want to see~"

My face turned even redder if that was possible, he chuckled his fangs showing as he looked down and grinned at me. 

He bent down getting really close to my face staring into my eyes his mismatched eyes changing as he stared, I could see his rainbow freckles he was so close to me, I mentally screamed trying to figure out what he was doing and why he was so close, his hot breath was on my face making my face feel on fire.

"You look nice without your hoodie on Mon Amour, your figure really shows under that shirt and you look like a masterpiece" He said breathlessly,

"My stars you are perfect you should avoid wearing your hoodie more often. Tu es belle, you are beautiful" His hot breath was on my face again and I buried my face in his chest blushing and mumbling utter nonsense in embarrassment.

"Hey Ink we need backup in- uhhhhhh......"

Ink looked over at the door and he suddenly started laughing and snorting hysterically holding me to his chest tighter and bending over wheezing, whatever face he was seeing Dream make was obviously funny to him, I kept hiding my face refusing to move or look up too embarrassed at Ink's previous actions and scared that he might drop me if I moved.

"Bonjour mon ami! How may I help you?" Ink asked snorting and trying not to burst out laughing again.

"Uhhh.... am I?.....interrupting a moment?" Dream asked sounding awkward, 

"Not at all Dream it's not even what it looks like to you. What is it that you need?"

"Umm....Blue and I need backup in Altertale.......Nightmare and his group are pretty desperate to do whatever they are trying to do there and won't back down. Blue is a bit injured but won't stop fighting so I'm kinda in a hurry.......uhh....if your not umm.....busy we need help" 

"I'll come help you and Blue" Ink said his voice becoming stern and serious, he turned and went down the last two steps and put me on the couch carefully, I stared up at him,

he snapped his phalanges and instantly was wearing his normal outfit (With pants on finally) before bending down to kiss my forehead.

"I'll be back later Mon Amour" He walked over to Dream and both of them left through a portal, I looked around and noticed my hoodie still missing, I noticed a piece of paper next to me on the couch and I picked it up reading it:

Mon Amour, I'm still keeping this hoodie, it's wrapped around my waist have fun without me I will return soon~ 

- Ink

I'm so getting him back for this. I thought an idea coming to me instantly. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This was a bad idea" I mumbled sitting on the couch under all the clothing I put on:

After Ink left I raced upstairs to his room and started opening his drawers to find all his clothing that were all the same outfit he left in folded neatly in different parts of the drawers, there were his overalls he wore in one drawer, the other drawer had his shirts and so on. 

Instantly I grabbed a pair of his overalls and put them on keeping my own clothes on underneath, I started giggling like a little girl, 

"These go over my head!! I can drag them around on the floor they are so big HAHAH! I could practically live in this like a blanket!!" 

I took them off and decided to put only the shirts on instead, the white t-shirt I put on went all the way down to the floor in a pile and I dragged it across the room trying to lift it up as I walked leaving a small white trail behind me, it kept sliding off my shoulders and the sleeves went past my hands towards the ground.

"And these are supposed to be t-shirts" I chuckled putting on the brown top over the white shirt and giggled as it went down to my knees the sleeves going over my arms and almost past the white shirts' sleeves. 

"Man, I didn't know how big these were gonna be on me" I giggled looking over to his bed seeing a bunch of brown scarfs hanging up on a rack next to his bed stand. I walked over tripping on the sleeves, brown top and the bottom of the white shirt as I grabbed one of the scarfs and put it on. 

"HAHAH! It doesn't even fit around my neck" I stated to myself trying to keep it on my neck while trying to keep the shirt and top from falling off. 

I looked around blindly the scarf covering my entire head making it hard to see, it was a really big scarf and went all the way down to my hips, I marched out of the room proudly tripping on the white shirt, the sleeves of the brown top and dragging behind me the brown scarf, the scarf didn't even leave his bedroom yet still trailing behind me as I took the first step to go down the stairs,

I tripped on the sleeves not even on the second step and squeaked falling down the stairs becoming a burrito of brown and white, I took my arms out of the safety of the fabrics trying to quickly keep the scarf from leaving my neck and grab the shirt keeping it from being left behind, I felt my arms scraping on the stairs and getting cut on each corner of the steps, (Did I mention these were wooden stairs? Ouch......) 

I winced in pain before hitting the bottom of the stairs onto the living room floor and continuing to roll finally stopping with my back hitting the couch, my arms felt sore and I felt something warm trickling down both of my arms, I couldn't see under all the clothing it was dark, I started trying to get out of the clothes to find out what happened, I couldn't find any lights or holes or ways out of the clothing:

I'M TRAPPED!! IT'S TOO TIGHT!!

I begin to hyperventilate and freaked out not being able to see and covered in fabrics my claustrophobia getting the best of me as I thrashed on the floor desperate to get out of my cage of clothes.

***********************************************************

After screaming loudly and thrashing for stars knows how long I found light and popped out breathing heavily and standing up shaking, I slowly walked towards the couch and sat sitting cross-legged, the shirt and top wrapped around me tightly and hung over the couch a little, the scarf pretty much towered over my head and trailing all the way to the floor wrapped really tightly around my neck and choking me. 

"This was a bad idea" I mumbled sitting on the couch under all the clothing.

The door opened and from my spot I heard Ink, his bones making clacking noises on the wooden floor. 

"Ma Chérie i'm home!!" I heard him say as his voice faded into the kitchen,

"Stitches?? Where are-" 

I heard him stop in the living room entrance and giggled a little trying not to be obvious wanting to have a little fun before I tell him his clothes are trying to kill me, I heard him approach and looked up seeing his mismatched eyes looking down at me smirking. 

"And what is this?" He asked chuckling,

"I tried to wear your clothes as payback for taking my hoodie"

"And how did that work out~"

"Can you help me? I'm stuck and your scarf is choking me"

He laughed snorting a little and carefully picked me up, I could see concern in his mismatched eyes as he made sure the clothes weren't choking me anymore and placed me next to the pile of clothes.

"OH MY STARS!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??" He shrieked causing me to jump and look up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Your arms!!"

I looked down to see little bits of blood trickling down both my arms, "Oh! I forgot about that..."

"What happened!!?" 

"I fell down the stairs and scraped my arms trying to keep the clothes from falling off me"

"YOUR HURT!!!"

"I'm fine Ink they are just scrapes and cuts" 

Ink picked me up and rushed upstairs into the bathroom placing me on the sink and rushing around finding bandages and wipes, he came over and quickly started putting ointment on the wipes and wiping the blood, I winced whimpering. 

"S-s-sorry about that" He muttered cleaning them slower going one bloody scratch at a time.

"See!? Told you it was just a bunch of scratches and scraps, I just wasn't able to clean up the blood so it just went around my arm freely, your supposed to put pressure on cuts to stop the bleeding"

Ink wasn't even listening to me grabbing more stuff and bandaging my left arm before working on the right arm.

"Why can't you just heal it like Toriel did?" I asked wincing as he applied more ointment on the wipes and quickly swabbing it on my arm trying to be gentle. 

"I don't have that kind of magic, I can't heal people" He muttered sticking out his rainbow tongue concentrating on wrapping up my now clean of blood right arm. 

"Oh, sorry about that" 

"It's fine"

He finished and picked me up carrying me downstairs and placed me on the couch before taking the pile of clothes and going upstairs with them, he came back down with all the bloody wipes and walked into the kitchen throwing them in the trash before coming in and sitting on the couch giving me a hug, 

"Don't scare me like that again" He muttered,

"Ok, I'm sorry I scared you" 

"It's fine"

He stopped hugging me and smirked giving me that fanged grin again and standing up off the couch,

"You are still not getting back your hoodie" He stated walking upstairs with my hoodie I noticed still tied to his waist.

"INK!!!!!!!!" 

__________________________________

there we go @selfshipperapproved I hope you like this

[ask-the-friendly-ink-demon]

hey prowler how did you and ben meet? :0

oh thank goodness. a question that wasn’t about his stress or drago or the past. well it kinda was but at leash he can answer this with some positivity as his massive goopy and long tail swayed slightly

“AH.... BEN.... YEAH I REMEMBER HIM ALL TOO WELL HEH.... WE HAD A LOT IN COMMON. SIMILAR BACKSTORY. BOTH OF US GOT NEGLECTED BY OUR JOEYS IN THE PAST. ONLY A FEW DIFFERENCES I GUESS. HE WAS MORE MAN-MADE FROM THOSE... LOOPS OR CYCLES I THINK THEY’RE CALLED. WHILE I WAS... GENTICALLY MADE FROM TWO HUMAN SOULS AND FOUR DEMON SOULS.... I TIHNK” he rubs his own forehead, rumbling softly “BUT! I DO KNOW THAT WE ARE ACTUALLY PRETTY GOOD FREINDS! KINDA SIMILAR TO MY RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN MY BOI BENNASHEE AND MY BRO SOUL, ME AND BEN JUST.... HAVE A CONNECTION” he crosses his arms thinking slightly “AS FOR HOW WE MET.....” he thinks. trying to remember “WE MET WHEN DURING WHEN THIS BLOG WAS ON A HIATUS. WHEN I WAS STILL. RECOVERING FROM MY FIRST ‘DEATH’ AFTER FADED MADE ME LOSE CONTROL. WHEN THAT... SHADOW ANIMATRONIC WAS AROUND. CHANGING DRAGO OR SOMETHING. BEFORE HE MADE THEM CHANGE. THEY AND HIM WERE A BIT OF AN... ASSHOLE WHEN FUSED INTO THAT... STAGEFRIGHT OR NIGHTSHOW OR WHAT THE FUCK EVER....” he grunts, slightly glowing purple but. quickly shaking it off “ANYWHO IM GETTING OFF TRACK. BEN ARRIVED AT THAT WEIRD STUDIOS WE ALL FIRST ARRIVED AT IN THAT MULTIVERSE PLACE. A CHANGING STUDIOS IF YOU WILL. ANYWHO IT WAS DURING A PRETTY BIG AND NASTY STORM. ME AND BEN MET UP WHEN I WAS MORE... NORMAL AND WE TALKED AND SUCH AND WE QUICKLY BECAME BESTIES HEH....” he crosses his arms, smiling softly as he grew a bit smaller. his horns shrinking as talking about ben seemed to make him more. perfect? (:0) or something as he keeps thinking slightly. eventually almost looking like his standard inked state.

“BUT... WELL THAT STORM TURNED OUT TO BE ONE OF THOSE WEIRD GIANT MONSTER THINGS YOU HUMAN CALL KAIJUS... I THINK IT’S NAME WAS GHIDORAH? OR SOMETHING I DUNNO. ME AND BEN CONNECTED FURTHER WHEN I SAVED HIS ASS FROM BEING FRIED TO A PUDDLE HEH” he snorted, chuckling softly as he smiled a bit more, his ink stopped oozing as his inky aura seemed to dissapear almost “WE KEPT ON TALKING. LEARNING ABOUT EACHOTHER’S PASTS. WE KEPT HELPING EACHOTHER WITH OUR.. PROBLEMS AND PAST... EVEN LETTING OUT SOME UNHEARD SECRETS ABOUT US HEH... FOR A TIME I THOUGHT HE HAD FRAGMENTS OR MEMORIES OF ALL THE WORKERS’S SOULS INSIDE OF HIM WHEN HE TOLD ME HIMSELF HE WAS SOULLESS. YET HE COULD STILL FEEL EMOTIONS.... THOUGH THAT SOON CHANGED WHEN EARLIER AFTER I KILLED AND MERGED FADED FOR GOOD INTO MY OWN SOUL....” he huffs softly, his ink rising back up but he quickly calmed down, taking in a deep breathe.

“THIS WAS WHEN I... WAS MORE BROKEN AND RECOVERING FROM EVERYTHING. I GREW VERY PARANOID. AND SCARED OF FUSING. OR BEING AROUND OTHER DEMONS BUT. BEING AROUND BEN. MADE ME FEEL. SAFE. MADE ME FEEL MORE... normal....” his size shrunk a bit, his unmoving grin shrinks slightly as his appearance started to look more. toony like as he kept on talking “ONE DAY WHEN I WAS ReLaXinG FrOM EveRythInG i GoT... sEnt TO HIs STUdiOS... WAsN’t THe FIRsT TIme i WaS sEnt THeRe bUT. ANywHo wHEn i fiRST ArRIveD Me And BeN wErE SUprISeD To saY The leAsT” he crosses his arms, leaning against the couch “he TrIEd oPEnINg uP a PortAL fOR me TO go bACK hOme But. IT diDinT wORK. i trIEd BEfoRe bUT it COUlDN’T WOrk... beForE We COuLD tRY ANythING We GOt JumPEd bY THosE ButchEr gANg clOneS. BotH STabLE ANd NoNStAbLE” he says, pulling out a strange looking pipe that seemed to be manmade- fixed with a shocker baton “GrAbBEd THiS fRom ONe OF thEM heH...” he says, snorting softly before huffing “ThOSe WheN i aBsoRbeD thOSE unsTABLE clOneS soMEthING... hAppEneD.... I... FeLT thINGs i wAsN’t SUpPOSeD TO fEeL OR rEmeMBEr... THan caME oNe OF thOSe dEMoNS.... aPPArENly Ben’S faMilY TrEe WaS biGgeR thAN he THoUGHt...”

He grunts, huffing softly as he was unawarely getting smaller, his voice more soft spoken but still distorted “but even then. ben’s studios was the first time in a while that i achieved a new form. the hunter demon. which was apparently a remake of that... strange forced fusion faded had with me....” he grunts, snorting a bit “after ben... merged that head secuirty demon into himself we decided to fix this whole mess. taking care of monster after monster. i made sure to make myself stay stable.. even if it meant uh... absorbing a few tainted souls... i wasn’t thinking straight... when we came across that doctor demon though something... happened... he used my own ability against me...” he rubbed his own back, rumbling softly “but even then... i converted that little advantage he had into a whole lot of energy... so much that i accidently blew us all up in that room heh.....” he rubbed his own forehead, melting but unawarely looking smaller than before. more. humanoid kinda “that was my first discovery of my purple states.... though it was mainly just. extremely powerful bursts of energy enough to blow up rooms or create earthquakes... after he merged that doctor into himself we kept on moving... even though i was having trouble... he became infected with my own corruption by accident. two times actually... or three when we came across the last demon. the one that apparently ordered those butcher gang to come at him. benny as he calls himself... i was still heavily pissed off with what that place was doing to me but. i didint let that fool me. even if he sented out a monstrous boris... “ he huffs, humming slightly “but even then. we still managed to stop this whole mess. ben kinda has a alter personality now of that benny since they...share the same body now i guess...? i dunno but when he was trying to fix me my... other corruption and excess ink from that went into him.. i felt back but i didint know what to do to get rid of it when i finally told ben but. he just gave me that classic smirk and said it’d be fine....”

“now of course he wasn’t fine. it took a few days for him to.. adjust to it. i dunno if he fully activated it or not but he has been showing more signs of the traits on him. with his eyes complete purple. his tail a more longer and sharper. even his body looked more defined. like a human’s... though when my corruption accidently infected imp, it made him more. perfect. since it kinda has a mental mind of it’s own. shifting and shaping the person into what the host exactly wants in life. ben wanted to be more ‘human’ and imp wanted to be more ‘perfect’ so it gave them exactly that but of course there’s always setbacks.... i had to calm ben down a bit with this but he had to calm me down even more when i was a messed up corrupted feral beast heh....“ he looked more smaller and more. perfect. his tail still long but not as long as before. he looked more. calm. more relaxed as he kept explaining the finishing details “wasn’t the first time either but” he closes his eyes. wait. eyes? he wasn’t aware of it but he looked more... normal? he opened his eyes. smiling brightly a bit as his tail wags hey he actually kinda looks....

“overall! ben and i are very good pals! even cousins if you want to go there! he and i are... kinda the same heh. we’re both outcasts but hey... outcasts need to stick together i suppose hehe...” he beamed, his tail wagging more. seemly unaware that he was back in his toon baby self “he’s actually one of the more better friends that i wish i could hang out with more. or see more! we haven’t seen eachother that much ever since that mess at his stuidos... heh god what he must think of me now like this from this whole mess... probably would say some corny joke or something about lanky’s not so tough or something” he says, chuckling softly as he still had that smile on his face. more tired though “i actually liked this question a lot. if only for a moment though i wish i could see him again.... or any of my friends heh....” he wiped something from his eye, still not unaware even as he noticed that he had too gloves again he just figured his ‘goopy form’ was stablizing itself.... --- Imp Belongs to @sammys-sanctuary Bennashe belongs to @ask-the-impractical-heroes Soul belongs to @ask-soul-bendy and Bendy ‘Ben’ B Stein belongs to my good friend Sheepy on discord! he doesn’t have a tumblr yet but he has thought about getting one in the future!

[ill-skillsgard]

Phoenix Rising, Part 3 - Valter Skarsgård

Title: Phoenix Rising

Description: The struggle for domination is paved with deceit and destructive lust as two enemies battle it out for control night after night.

Warning: 18+ swearing/mentions of rape/violence/femdom/DDLG leanings

Part 1 Part 2

Three losses and two wins put me up another rank to number five. When I saw my name rise up one more slot on the board, two slots below Vscars I cheered rather enthusiastically only because I was by myself. It took me over three hours to get there and by the time it happened my opponent told me that he was signing off for the night. Really I had nobody to celebrate with but myself.

Going to work the next day, I felt confident and eager to stand around and talk video games but when I got there the only people in the store were Riley and Valter. There were no customers at all. It was ten AM on a weekday but even at that, I thought maybe at least a few people would wander in.

Riley greeted us with a little less heart than he had on our first day. Valter was there before me again and the both of them were at the front counter counting out the cash register for the day.

"Good morning, Nix. You ready for a day of cleaning?" Riley asked.

"Sure. What will you have of me?" I asked.

"Well, one of you are going to have to sweep the floor and the other will have to mop after so you guys can rock, paper, scissors for who has to do what. I could delegate the tasks but... You can battle it out."

Valter simpered at me and it was the first time I noticed the magnitude of his pout. He was undoubtedly tall and maybe just a little intimidating by the way his blue eyes never seemed to give you a break. But he had a soft face and a wholesome smile that betrayed any notion of ominousness when he flashed it. He held out his fist and prepared to play me at Rock, Paper, Scissors, looking down at me with the corner of his mouth drawn up.

"All right, let's do this," he rolled up the sleeves of the grey hoodie he wore over his black work shirt.

"Okay."

"Rock, paper, scissors!" We cast our choices and I chose rock.

Valter's hand grabbed my clench fist and squeezed gently as he had chosen paper. His smirk only intensified.

"All right, Valter, you get to choose," Riley announced.

"Good game," Valter said, holding up his fist for me to bump knuckles with him.

I did so and without being a sore loser either. There was something nice about him that I could gather just by how he carried himself around others. He seemed like a sweet guy and it didn't bug me that he had won. Either way, I was prepared for a graveyard day dedicated solely to cleaning the store.

"I'll be a gentleman and take the harder job. You can sweep, how about that?" He offered.

I shrugged my shoulders but there was a smile on my face. "Sure, whatever you want, V."

"V?" He cocked his head. "Nicknames already?"

"Sorry," I said. "Old habits. Nicknames for everyone."

"What about me? Don't I get a nickname?" Riley asked.

"I'll probably just end up calling you Rye. Like the bread," I laughed.

"Well... Bread is the best so I guess that's fine. Totally uncreative but, it will do."

"Nah, I think V is much better," Valter joked.

"Isn't it? Who doesn't love a good V?" I asked rhetorically.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Riley said, raising his hands as if that would dismiss him of all responsibility to our borderline inappropriate morning talk. "So guys, keep your heads up for customers. Work on getting the floor nice and clean and overall don't have too much fun, all right? I'm going to set up your payroll accounts so I'll be in the back. You're confident you can work the register and all that?"

Both of us looked at each other and nodded back at Riley.

"Good. If you need me just come and find me in the back. I'll check up on you periodically but try to give it a go on your own. You guys seem pretty capable. Cleaning supplies are in the closet beside the staff bathroom."

The three of us disbanded to set off on our tasks. I found a large push broom in the supply closet and started sweeping the aisles as best as I could, taking a moment here and there to look at all of the games from all the different generations of consoles. There were so many games that it was overwhelming and more than tempting, to say the least. I could perfectly envision myself spending the majority of my paychecks just filling up my collections even though I didn't have the room for it in my apartment.

"You missed a spot," I heard Valter say from behind me.

When I turned around he was smirking at me and resting his chin on clasped hands at the top of the mop handle. I knew by the way he grinned that he was just trying to pull my strings. It had been a quiet day and I had started to feel a little awkward since there were no customers and the music playing was too low to make out any words.

"Be my guest," I offered him the broom but he held up one finger and wagged it at me.

"Ah, ah. I mop, you sweep. That was the deal."

"Well if you can do so much better than me, go ahead," I bantered with him.

"I'm just kidding. You did a fine job. Now if you would be so kind as to get out of my way so I can mop this bitch, that'd be great."

The way he pronounced words was endearingly tinted with his Swedish accent and I wanted to ask him more questions about his background but I didn't know him well enough to feel comfortable prying. I resorted to smiling and allowing him to pass me so he could start his portion of our joint task.

When the first customer of the day came in through the front door I greeted him with a smile. He stared at me for longer than what was casual and stopped in front of me.

"You new here?" He asked.

"Yeah. My second day on the job."

"That explains why I don't know you," he replied with an uppity tone that told me he was probably a regular customer and was used to being served by certain people.

"I'm Nix. Now you know me," I said with a smile.

"Can you look up to see if you have a certain game?" The customer requested, unmoved by my attempt at friendliness.

"Sure."

That's how it was for most of the week. I would show up to work every day and Valter would already be there talking to Riley. We would have our tasks assigned to us alongside regular supervision of the customers and that was mostly it. The guys joked around a lot and I kept to myself unless my commentary was warranted.

One night at closing, Riley and Valter were chattering and goofing off while I counted the cash register and hung up my cabinet keys. The both of them had formed a buddy-buddy relationship that I had been somewhat left out of. Not that it bothered me all that much since I had gotten used to going home and wasting my free time playing Agents of Carnage. When they both noticed me they straightened up and tossed me glances like they had something to say.

"What's up, guys?" I greeted them.

"You coming to game night, Nix?" Riley asked me.

"Oh, that's tonight? Uh, I don't know. I kind of had plans for later," I lied.

"Cancel them. We're going to Kyle's. He has an insane setup. Like his basement is wall-to-wall screens and he has every system set up to it."

I tossed a glance in Valter's direction and he nodded along with what Riley had to say. "I'm going to be there."

"Oh, now I definitely don't want to go," I teased.

"Well, I for one, think you should come! We'll chalk it up as a team-building exercise. Unpaid, of course," Riley claimed.

"Hm," I pondered. "What are you guys playing?"

"Well we were going to play classic Nintendo tonight but Valter suggested we play Agents of Carnage. You play on all platforms, right?"

I lit up at the mention of my favourite game. The one that I was ranked fifth in the world in. The prospect of blowing the guys away by my nearly unparalleled skills tickled a bone in me that helped to shift my attitude totally.

"I love AOC!" I beamed.

"So, you'll come then?" Riley verified.

"I guess I have to so I can show you boys how it's done!" I accepted.

Valter smiled sincerely and so did Riley.

"Give me your number so I can send you Kyle's address?"

After we exchanged all the information needed, we locked up the store and went our separate ways until reconvention later on that night. I still had my reservations about going to hang out with a bunch of guys in a basement but the temptation to showcase my gaming prowess in front of them was stronger than my need for social isolation.

When I got home I got three text messages in a row from Riley.

It's BYOB by the way but if you don't have anything I'm bringing beer.

Unless you don't like beer. I can bring something else for you?

Or if you don't drink at all that's fine too. I'm not sure!

I gave a light scoff as I read his messages. I wondered if Riley was eager to have me over for game night or if he had different intentions. His concern about bringing drinks for me was a little flag that waved, warning me that an impending crush may have been on the horizon. I texted him back.

I'll be okay. I have some things I can bring. Thanks though, Rye.

At home, I showered and changed into some denim shorts and a plain red tank top to wear underneath a black knit cardigan. I grabbed up a couple of beers that had been inhabiting my fridge for days and put them into a backpack to carry along with me.

My nerves started to get to me as I pulled up in front of the address that Riley had sent to my phone. It was one of those eye-poppingly modern and lavish houses that were tucked away in a new suburb up on a hill. There were half a dozen cars parked out front so I wasn't sure just how many people would be there to participate in game night. I hoped and prayed that I wasn't the only female there.

There was a sign printed in black ink on standard paper that had been taped to the front door that read 'Side Door for Game Night' with a big arrow pointing right. Adjusting the straps on my backpack, I prepared myself to make an awkward entry into a place I had never been before.

Through a door and down a flight of stairs, I descended into a fully finished basement with dark carpet and bright white walls. There was a projector in the middle of the room pointed at a huge white screen and it was split up into eight squares. Two consoles and four controllers were lit up, eight pairs of headsets on the heads of a group of guys of whom I only knew three and even that trio I wouldn't consider good friends of mine. Riley took notice of me and lit up when he saw me at the second to last step clutching the straps of my backpack.

"Hey, Nix is here!" He announced and suddenly sixteen eyes were on me.

Some of them smiled and some of them took long swigs of energy drinks or beers. I tried to smile charmingly but I felt like I was failing because almost nobody gave me much more than a nod of their head. Except for Riley and Valter.

I made my way over to them and Valter took off his headset, letting it rest around his neck. "Hey, Nix. Ready to slaughter some noobs with us on AOC?"

I cocked my head at him after be said that. The way that he uttered those words made me feel strange. I couldn't quite put my finger on why all of a sudden I was having the weirdest sense of déja-vu.

"We're going to set up another console in a second because a couple of people will be here. Then we're going to run a Game Night Battle Royale and the winner takes all."

"What is all?" I asked.

"We do a pool. Everyone throws in twenty bucks. Right now there's one hundred sixty," Kyle explained.

"Soon to be one-eighty if you decide to throw in, Nix. Or I can throw in for you if you don't have the cash on you?" Riley added

When I looked up at the split screens and saw everyone logged into their accounts my eyes were drawn to Valter's screen- the top left-hand square. I felt my gut squirm uncomfortably when I saw his username at the top right of his corner. Vscars.

All at once I felt like I wanted to vomit, scream and piss myself. I looked at the blond who had focused his attention back on the screen without having replaced his headset.

Pussycat... Come play with me!

I swallowed hard and felt my apprehension turn from tolerable to pure anxiety attack in the amount of time it took for me to realize the user I had been playing Agents of Carnage with for the last few weeks was the same guy I was spending nearly every day with at work.

The accent I should have put together right away but it didn't occur to me even once to associate the two.

Aw, come here pussycat. I'll fuck you real gentle, promise.

All of the messages I had received from him were vulgar in nature or just plain rude but when I talked to Valter at work he seemed very nice and even a little shy. I couldn't imagine such obscenities falling from those lips when I looked at his face. He replaced his headset and looked back up on the screen. Some of the guys were in the lobby on the leaderboard and I could see my username in the fifth slot hovering just below Valter's.

"Oh shit, Valter. You dropped to fourth!" Someone pointed at the screen.

Valter's facial expression didn't change much as he shrugged. "I lost a couple times."

"He lost to a girl!"

I felt my face turn red with anticipation of how he was going to react but he didn't say anything until he adjusted his microphone in front of his mouth. "She's actually really good."

"Who? The user in fifth?"

"Yeah. She kicked my ass a couple of times."

"Hey, Nix, you gonna sit down and play or what?" Riley asked me.

"I... Um. I have to go get something from my car. Be right back," I claimed,

Once more, sixteen eyes watched me go back up the stairs and out the side door of the house. I fished my keys out of my pocket to unlock my car. After throwing my backpack into the passenger seat, I got in, closed the door and ran my hands over the material of the steering wheel, feeling all the bumps and rivets from the stitching as I tried to regain my composure. Certainly, I wasn't going back down there. Especially not now. Not after the discovery that the person that had been maliciously flirting with me on AOC was Valter.

I drove home quickly. It was only a ten-minute stint so I had enough time to park, take the elevator up and get into my apartment to catch Valter in the Agents of Carnage lobby. My phone buzzed to life with a message from Riley but I chose to ignore it and instead, put my headset on.

My heart was pounding as I waited. My phone lit up with an incoming call but I ignored it again. I knew I would have to come up with an elaborate lie to cover my ass at work for bailing but I couldn't face Valter knowing that he was the Swedish pain-in-my-ass whose voice was really starting to settle into me like a warm liquid.

I'm going to pound that cunt when I find you hiding, slut.

The only reason he had said that during our sessions was because I had told him that I was going to rip his dick off and use it to fuck his throat with. We had both laughed. Our banter had even become a highlight in some of the multiplayer battle royales we had played together.

My heart did a small dance when an invitation to a multiplayer battle showed up on my screen from Vscars and once I accepted I was put into the waiting room where I could hear everyone in the challenge who were using mics. Riley was in it, Kyle was in it, all those other guys that I didn't know were in and so was Valter.

"Phoenix, good to see you," Valter's voice came through over my headset like he was still in the same room as me, talking directly into my ears.

I stammered at first because I was convinced that if I spoke he would be able to piece together who I was. The chances of him making the connection were slim but I didn't want to risk it. I lowered my voice and replied with an easy, "What's up?"

Some of them were talking and I was sure that nobody had heard me say anything. I could hear Kyle talking about massively nerdy stuff to one of the other guys involving anime and cosplayers and then something transpired that was completely eye-opening to everyone.

"Fuck... I guess Nix isn't coming back?" Riley said.

"Shit... Well... Oh well. Let's just play. She probably got like, her period or something," replied Valter, his cocky gaming persona starting to show through.

"Girls don't just get their periods that suddenly. Maybe she just came down here and realized what a sausage-fest this place is and booked it," somebody else said in the group waiting room.

My mouth dropped open and the longing I had to respond to their outrageous claims was so strong I had to bite my tongue. Although, it was incredibly amusing to hear what they had to say at the same time and I wondered how far it would go.

"Fuck. I was hoping to like... I don't know. Hang out with her?" Riley admitted.

There was a chorus of booing from some of the guys before Valter spoke up, "Dude, I don't think she likes you at all. She's a little above your pay grade if you know what I'm saying."

"No, she's not! She's... She was texting me all night!"

"Then realized the horrible mistake she had made coming here," Valter laughed.

"Man, I don't know. I think I might have to demote myself from manager just so I can date her," Riley said.

"She would never," Valter reiterated. "She's probably one of those hot lesbian girls that are really cool but completely unattainable. Probably has a cute girlfriend too."

"What! She's not a lesbian! Wait... Is she?" Riley asked.

"I don't know, man. I never get the chance to flirt with her because you're always there trying to talk to her."

"You like her too?"

"I'm just playing! Anyway... She would definitely fuck me before you."

"Yeah," somebody else chimed in. "I'd fuck Valter before you. Sorry, Riley. It's the hair. And the lips... Yo, Valter... What are you doing later, cutie?"

"Man, Nix was right. This place is a gay old sausage-fest."

Laughs were shared all around and I felt like I was backed up into a corner being forced to listen to all of these things; the assumptions of my sexuality, how I was a topic of conversation in and out of work and that Valter admitted to wanting to flirt with me. It was all so much information I hardly knew what to do with it.

There was one thing I was absolutely sure of though and that was that I was going to make Valter my bitch in every single way imaginable.

[lesmotsincompris]

Thoughts on GoT S07E04

We’ve hit the halfway mark!

Do you know that feeling when someone tells you a joke and you know it’s supposed to be funny and you know what about is meant to make you laugh, but it just doesn’t work for you and you don’t laugh at all? That’s how I feel about GoT’s big moments, about it’s ‘epicness’ and ‘badassery’.

In this episode, most of the scenes were either “of all the possible book points, are they gonna bring THAT and THIS WAY?” or “why is this scene happening?”. I was surprisingly indifferent too, considering the butchery of long-time favorite characters.

But more under the cut.

Winterhell

Look, I love the Starks. I know it’s cliche, but Jon, Arya, and Sansa are my three favorite characters in all of A Song of Ice and Fire. That’s no small feat. I love all the Starks, and the direwolves, and the people of Winterfell, and the little bits we learn of Northern culture and memory.

So you can imagine I’m angry at the show.

It’s been a while since the Stark siblings stopped being the same characters as their book counterparts, but at this point they’re not even interesting characters in their own right. D&D simply don’t care say about the Starks or what they represent, though I can imagine they love these foul show creations they put in their place.

Out of all possible book points, they decided to bring back Bran’s assassination attempt. In the books, Joffrey was responsible for it, but I feel in the show they’re gonna pin the whole thing on Littlefinger. How? He wasn’t even in Winterfell, he wasn’t even aware that Bran was comatose.

“That very question is what started the War of The Five Kings,” says Littlefinger. That means “I know we’re bringing this back far too late, so here’s some backsposition for you to remember what we’re talking about.” I see what they want with this: they want to blame Littlefinger for the WOT5K so that we feel a lot of Dramatic Satisfaction™ when Arya enacts her revengey revengeful revenge on him.

Other than that, Littlefinger is there mostly to lust after Sansa, because that’s not creepy at all. There’s no reason he has to follow her around and I can’t see why she doesn’t give him something else to do. 

Oh, and they brought back the ‘chaos is the ladder’ speech, because D&D are onanists.

I have this pet theory that Isaac Hempstead-Wright accidentally did something to piss off D&D, because they butchered his character years ago and now are even preventing him from acting. “You died in that cave” is a retcon, because if I recall correctly Bran wasn’t acting like a robot last season.

Now that a wheelchair replaced 90% of Meera’s role in the story, she can quietly melisandre away. Aren’t D&D classy and subtle in how they get rid of characters they no longer want to write?

The guards of Winterfell are mean to Arya, because people in Westeros are mean to everyone in every possible occasion. Why was this scene here? Only so that we could see what a great ninja Arya has become, after being beaten with a stick for two seasons?

I like the concept of Arya and Sansa meeting in the crypts, but once again we only have one Stark sibling acting per scene.

“I wish I had” “Me too”. FUCK YOU, SHOW. FUCK YOU, D&D. I CURSE THE DAY YOU WERE BORN. I CURSE EVERY IRRESPONSIBLE FRIEND, TEACHER, OR TV CRITIC THAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD PUT TWO WORDS TOGETHER SUCCESSFULLY. I CURSE THAT HEINOUS FUCKERY YOU CALL A WRITING. I HOPE YOU DIE IN A FLAMING MOUNTAIN OF POOP.

Stark sisters bonding over murder. Great. You know, the pattern of gleeful murder in this show is deeply disturbing. All female characters actively enjoy murdering: Arya, Sansa, Ellaria, Cersei, Daenerys, Brienne, Yara... The same doesn’t happen with male characters, and even the likes of Sandor or Bronn don’t get high on carnage. The only male characters who truly enjoy a good butchery are villains like Ramsay, Euron, or the Mountain. I’ll just leave this information here for you to think about it.

Overall their meeting looked very stiff; I know Sansa and Arya weren’t the best of friends, but there’s something rigid in their acting and dialogue that made the moment bland for me. And we already know it doesn’t take much for me to appreciate a Stark meeting.

There’s a difference between exploring the consequences of Sansa’s rape and inserting little nods to it that mean nothing but “hey, remember that time we made everyone angry by raping Sansa Stark?”. I see a lot of the latter, not much of the former.

A few weeks ago conspiracy theorists were going crazy over Sansa’s hair being styled like Cersei’s. Where are they now that Sansa is using Daenerys’ weird-braid-circle style in her hair? Can we just stop with the crack theories?

Brienne admits she did next to nothing to reunite the Stark siblings. Poor book!Brienne, the one true knight of Westeros, your kindness and hope had no chance and no choice in D&D’s grimfest. At least show!Brienne was nice to Pod for the first time in ages. Character development!

That didn’t last long, though, and in her next scene she shoved him aside because she found a more important character to fight. Fighting is all Brienne does in the show. 

This fighting scene with Arya was as lazy as it was fanservice-y. Brienne defeated the Hound, but now Arya’s smirking at her and displaying her ninja skills. Does that mean Arya could defeat the Hound? Please, D&D, don’t answer that.

What was the point of this scene? What did it accomplish other than pure fanservice? Why were we seeing Sansa and fuckin’ Littlefinger’s reactions to this?

Every little bit of Winterfell was a mess. Fuck the show.

Dragonstone

Jon took Dany to the Westerosi equivalent of Lascaux, carved in ancient times when people only had enough blue ink for the White Walkers’ eyes and nothing more.

It would be really lazy if some carvings in a cave were all it took to convince Dany of the White Walker threat, so I’m glad they didn’t follow that route. But then I must ask: why was this scene here? Did it tell us anything new?

Again Dany comes across as this entitled brat that makes it all about her, her, her. I genuinely cackled when she said “I will fight for you, I will fight for the North… when you bend the knee”. She tells Jon to stop being so proud, but all this knee talk makes her look self-centered. Again we get a reasonable man and an unreasonable woman. I’m not angry at Dany, I’m angry at the two idiots that write her.

Good thing that Dany blamed Tyrion for the loss of her armies, but I wish the narrative could recognize that his plan was stupid even before Cersei used a cheat code. 

Dany asks Jon for advice, because when a woman loses the man that tells her what to do she must find another man to tell her what to do. It doesn’t matter that she barely knows him, gods forbid Dany thinking on her own. But hey, show!Jon is just as incompetent as show!Dany or show!Tyrion, so maybe they can be incompetent together.

Davos became a character that makes boob jokes, stans Jon, and flirts with Missandei. That’s the extension of his arc or inner conflicts. Oh poor Davos.

Alfie Allen is too good for this.

King’s Landing

THE GOLDEN COMPANY, OH MY FUCKING LORD. Out of all possible book points… Also filed under: cutting Aegon is hurting the story in more ways than expected.

Somewhere over the Reach

That part reminded me a lot of Skyrim, from the gold ingots to the way the dragons were animated. During the battle I couldn’t help but imagine the Dovahkiin theme song playing.

I forgot that show!Bronn was a thing. Lucky me.

Out of all possible reasons to turn Jaime against Cersei, why is fuckin’ Olenna Tyrell one of them? Jaime seems more affected by Olenna’s words than by Cersei blowing up the sept.

Come on, show, Jaime killed the king he swore to protect because the guy threatened to do what Cersei did last season. The septsplosion should have been Jaime’s worst nightmare coming true, the perfect reason to finally break up with his sister-lover. If that’s not enough to at least give him conflicted feelings, nothing should ever be enough to separate Jaime and Cersei. Ever. They’re the skeletons in Lost now, together until the end.

Forget conflict, we have a few armies to teleport. 

A few episodes ago I assumed the Dothraki went to Casterly Rock with the Unsullied, but they didn’t. But what were they supposed to be doing, then? Dany didn’t plan to attack the Lannister army until very recently, what were her original plans for the Dothraki? Just hanging out in Dragonstone?

Is it me or even the Dothraki ‘battle cry’ sounds racist?

The battle scene was too orange, but at least I could actually see things. The CGI of Dany in Drogon’s back was beyond terrible, but Drogon itself looked good. It better look good, four direwolves had to die for that. 

That was it for the scorpion? I mean, nobody actually thought it would kill a dragon, but this was beyond anticlimactic. Why bother inserting this at all?

Tyrion has inner life? What show am I watching? Peter Dinklage does a great job conveying Tyrion’s feelings at the sight of the Lannister army being decimated. Too bad he doesn’t look nearly as affected when his queen Dany falls out of her dragon.

Seriously, what were the stakes for this battle? Did anyone thought Dany, Tyrion, or even Jaime could die? In the best case scenario, D&D would be burning their budget (literally) to cause Bronn or Dickon Tarly’s death.

Hey, don’t look at me like that; Dickon Tarly has more personality than most of the cast at this point.

Extra notes

Can I admit that I nearly hissed at D&D’s names when I saw them in the opening credits?

See you next week for the later half of this mess.

[sue-bts]

 It’s Two in the Morning- Vmin (A/F/M)

Anonymous requested: May I request a Vmin smut where Tae tops and Jimin bottoms? And they’re friends with benefits?

Pairing: Jimin x Taehyung 

Warnings: smut mentions, the slightest tad of angst, some fluff, melodramatic rantings by me :)

Words: 3,402

-a self indulgent little fic 

Jimin likes to say he's a moderately innocent person. And while the test grades in pretty red ink can say he’s driven academically, or his tidied dorm room would say he’s neat- the panties that stretch over his silky skin and the delicate yet gravely moans Taehyung is all too familiar with would test any accusations of his innocence. 

Taehyung lets Jimin say what he’d like about himself, that he’s good and clean, that his studies go above any cravings or bursts of lust that sputter within him. But the rushed and sloppy texts that illuminate Taehyung’s dark room as his phone lets out a soft ding, in the late hours of the night- or more accurately, the early hours of the morning- would say otherwise of Jimin’s earlier statements. The messages usually say something like: “can i come over?” or “come to my dorm,” but on the nights it’s clear that he's had something to drink, or the nights he’s desperate, without worry over how needy he may come off as, he says things like, “horny for you daddy,” or “all i want is your cock in me right now.”

Taehyung doesn’t have any complaints. If anything, he occasionally wonders if he should be thanking some higher power for Jimin’s company. He needs Jimin just as much as the older needs him. College is taxing, relationships are just as taxing, and to try to manage both of those things at the same time? Tae would either flunk out for dump the poor guy. Jimin is that perfect compromise to satisfy all those primal desires that arise within Taehyung after studying for some godawful amount of time. He’s the answer to all those lurking questions in the back of a young teenager’s mind: what would it be like to be seduced by an officer, what’s the feeling of being handcuffed and played with like you’re a toy, what does it feel like to sink your cock into a boy sporting a collar to tug on and a harness to pull? And Jimin finds solace in being scooped up by Taehyung, pushed against the nearest wall or pressed so his stomach gurgles against his desk and the table leaves imprints along his abdomen. Taehyung’s deep voice always so close to Jimin’s ear, so that Jimin can hear every breath, every little whisper of a noise and the loudest arches to his words. 

They were friends through freshman year of college, Jimin wore overalls to the first day of class but the legs were just a bit too long, even after being rolled two times, and he ended up tripping up the isle of seats. Taehyung was sat at the edge of the row and quickly went to help the boy up. It hadn’t been love at first sight or anything, they were friends first, but it had been something of a looking into each other’s eyes and seeing something. Taehyung still mocks Jimin for his description of the moment sounding so cheesy, to him it’d been more like: Jimin fell and I went to help him up and then after that we were familiar faces and from that we started talking occasionally. Whatever did or didn’t happen, they were close friends, taking terns studying in each other’s dorm rooms, their roommates finding their closeness intoxicating. 

They’d gone to party together a week before sophomore year started, the air was still sickly warm with summer, but the nights arrived earlier. A girl had said that they looked cute together, “how long have you two been dating?” She’d asked. They’d shared a glance before bursting into laugher. “Oh no, we’re only friends,” Jimin had said through his fit of giggles. She’d given a nod but a smirk was still poised at her lips before she had wandered off. Though Taehyung tried to play it cool and keep himself calm, her glance to him had left him unsettled the rest of the night. 

When the party had slowed down and people were beginning to lose their interest, that same girl had suggested they play spin the bottle. 

“Jesus, we aren’t sophomores in high school,” some guy had said, nonetheless,  he walked forward to sit with a few others who were making a circle. The girl had laughed, then turned to look at Jimin and Taehyung who were standing awkwardly far apart. 

“Come join, love birds!” 

Jimin had given an irritated sneer in her direction, to which her grin only grew in response. Taehyung, while still sick to his stomach and his mind swarming with a budding headache, began to approach the circle. Jimin stood behind him slack jawed, “Wait, you’re actually joining?!” 

Taehyung gave a glance behind himself to Jimin, eyes trying to seem playful and light but the weight of the world at his shoulders. “Maybe I’ll earn a kiss from the prettiest girl at this stupid party,” he’d said, his words aimed at that same, irritating girl who started this all, but his eyes not shifting away from Jimin’s. Jimin gave him one last irritated look before following Tae to the circle and sitting down beside his friend. 

The girl span the bottle first and landed on some random guy with a patchy beard and baseball cap on. Then the terns went around counter clockwise, so Jimin was next. He gave a huff, and span. He landed on a girl with big, blushing cheeks who nervously twisted her brunette hair that fell messily over her shoulders. Jimin began to lean in, and her giving a small giggle as she did too. Taehyung felt a strange sense of jealously boil his veins watching them inch closer and closer until he sat there helpless as Jimin’s plush lips cascaded over the girl’s thinner ones. He just sat there, boneless and hopeless as the kiss depended and the crowd around them cheered with the sight of their tongues entangling slowly but surely. Jimin pulled away first, his eyes blinking quickly and pupils dilated.

It was Taehyung’s tern next, and he span with a flick of his finger, harsh against the bottle and the clink sound echoing. He watched it circle until slowing down to point at Jimin, it was nearly itching to point at the irritating girl but Taehyung stopped it where it was before it could. Jimin looked up from the bottle pointing at him, to his best friend Taehyung, who didn’t seem have a shred of surprise or embarrassment across his expression. Jimin was nervous though, he bit his lip and watched Taehyung through his lashes. Their kiss was slow, Taehyung allowing himself to explore Jimin’s lips, the ones he’d fantasized over for longer than he'd ever let himself admit. The kiss depended, and the rest of the people dissipated into a foggy blur. And the kiss was too deep to be something casual they’d forgot about after a few more beers or a few more hours of hanging out. It was just a bit too deep to be nothing. 

;

It’s two in the morning now, Taehyung is convincing himself that he’s trying to fall asleep, that he isn’t waiting for Jimin to text him. But he is waiting, and he is terrible convincing himself of things. His eyes are open so he’ll catch the light from his phone when a new text arrives, his ringer still off from when he turned it off in his 8 o'clock class. He taps his fingers along his opposite arm, and then that arm’s fingers tap along the other arm. And then the dim blue light fills his side of the dorm room, and he scrambles to grab his phone off the nightstand. 

Taehyung finds himself smiling at the text even in its bare simplicity.

Jiminie 👼

you up??

You 

yea 👅

Jiminie 👼

my dorm or yours, or somewhere in-between ?

You

my roommate is home rn 

Jiminie 👼

mine isn't cum over ;))

You

i’ll be there in like 10 ok 

;

And Taehyung scoops up Jimin, so his soft skin can meld with his, and all the cold of the room can grow warm with them. 

“I thought you’d never get here,” Jimin says, combing Taehyung’s hair and pulling him closer to his lips. 

“I thought you’d have to wait forever for me,” Taehyung replies. He sighs, he doesn't like when he sounds like he belongs in some young adult novel, he finds it a grotesque abuse of words. 

Jimin giggles, letting his head fall back and Taehyung licks up his neck. 

They do their best to make it easy to do what they’d come here for. Jimin’s bed is made and Tae sets him down on the sheets, leaving no time for Jimin to be alone on the bed before he is over the elder. His bangs fall over his eyes and tickle over Jimin’s bare chest. They don’t kiss, that’d be risky. But it’s allowed to kiss down each other’s bodies, that makes it about the skin and not the touch. Taehyung’s mouth is warm, how it always is, and wet, god, his lips are plush and seem to let everything else fade away from Jimin’s conscience. A melody of sin and a familiarity like a recurring dream that you’ve only had once. 

But it isn’t supposed to be so kind, as it is, so smooth with no worries or such flowing words. It’s supposed to be wrong and needful, and something dirty to make the sheets regret ever enduring such sounds or smells. 

Jimin’s cock is throbbing, and his little fingers scatter across the sensitive skin until Taehyung’s mouth slowly runs down his abdomen until it’s taking in Jimin’s length and choking on it with an ugly sound. This is how it’s supposed to be, quick and separated, with thoughts that deny ever doing such a thing as this. They’re only bodies to play with, only lust to torment until granted its request. What they want from each other is not warmth, nor romance, they want their deepest desires to be fulfilled, and within that, be left limp and used and their emotions disobeyed. It’s to be wrongful, and with scrunched eyebrows, dirty. Taehyung slobbering over his lover’s cock, with his drool drowning him and his minor grunts being their soundtrack. Jimin lets out his breathy whines, that are what Taehyung denies he lives to hear, and pretends to nearly despise. Deep base plays, Taehyung puts on some song to drown away their heavy breathing and the faintest whimpers Jimin lets out which are just too soft to be ignored. 

The sex is detached and sad, Tae feels himself falling into a pit, and only Jimin could pull him out from it. He despises his attachment and his absolute dependence. This is his own story, he’s not one of those warnings his roommate would give on how he’d get feelings or that he’d want more than just the late nights and the wrinkled sheets. This is its own night, its own set of lips and rocking hips, not the recycled scenes to play out as it has before for other people. 

Taehyung slowly pulls out of Jimin’s heat, his sweat sticky and smelling rank, and his hair plastered so his skin. Jimin whines with the emptiness, warn out and finally feeling the heaviness of the hour in his tired eyes. 

“I guess I’ll go now?” Taehyung says, he frames it as a question, but he knows he should go without needing Jimin to answer. 

“You could stay..?” Jimin says, moving to have room beside him on the bed. Taehyung stares at him in the darkness, his eyes lidded and eyelashes faint. 

“That’s not how it’s supposed to go.” He feels himself mourning the words and regretting every second of the silence that’s between them. But then he does go, and he gets up with his clothes feeling sick on his skin. And his fingers can’t help tapping to the rhythm of Jimin’s skin on the steering wheel home. 

;

Taehyung remembers their first time together, after they’d agreed to it being strictly a ‘sex’ thing. They’d wanted to remain friends, but on occasion, let themselves give in to the lust that’d sometimes flare. It wasn’t easy from the beginning, their first night was already strange. It was strangely kinky to make it less romantically inclined, but even in the moment it felt forced and strict. No kissing, no touchy foreplay, no cuddling after, no staying the night, no glances the wrong way, no words just a bit too soft, no nothing. It was harsh and bitter on Taehyung’s tongue, and Jimin felt himself pull away while pulling Tae only closer. 

While their nights of playing together grew, their hang outs and study sessions decreased. Now it’s October, and Taehyung only sees Jimin when he’s fucking into him, or occasionally in the class they share. They don’t sit beside each other, they’d tried it once and it’d been so incredibly awkward that Jimin had gotten up and sat with someone else in the middle of class. 

“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung had said, but apparently the words had never even escaped him, only rattling inside his head as he’d watched Jimin stand and slowly wobble away in the cramped isle. 

Taehyung doesn’t regret their first kiss, if anything, it’s the one thing he regrets the least- but he regrets what it did to them. Jimin with his texts growing dirtier and dirtier to make up for how much he craves Taehyung’s heated skin to pull him closer until he’s cradled in the younger’s embrace. He makes it dirtier and wronger each time they’re together, as an excuse for his sick addiction that shouldn’t take control of him so easily. Taehyung hates how he sees through Jimin’s schemes, he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it, because he plays along with the elder for sharing the exact same feelings. 

;

Jimin is pulling on Taehyung’s arm that clutches to his hip. Jimin rocks back on Tae’s cock, his little fingers tracing the pulsing veins of Taehyung’s forearm, his breathing uneven and raspy. There are faint gasps of Taehyung’s name off Jimin’s lips, and the younger feels himself drowning in the feeling of Jimin around him, moving with him, like a boat rocking with the sea. He doesn’t want the feeling to end, to have to pull away from Jimin, to have to leave and not here from the elder until the next time he grows hungry with lust. With his other hand he grips to the base of his cock, not letting himself grow close enough to cum each time the heat rises in his abdomen and tensing thighs. 

Jimin grows bored with the same position, flipping himself over to fucked missionary style. He wraps his arms around the back of Taehyung’s neck, the eye contact burning and unendurable. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? Taehyung asks himself, Is love supposed to feel like you’re drowning until the other person brings you just that little bit closer to them and you find air again?

Tae doesn’t want this to be love, because he doesn’t want to be the one to admit he’s weak enough to fall. Maybe it isn’t love, it’s just his weakness to Jimin’s scent, and the slight dip of his heart each time he blinks and Jimin is still there, under him, his cheeks still blushing and his lips still parted. Maybe it isn’t love at all, just the familiarity and warmth of seeing Jimin, and all the rushing happiness in that alone, and all the crushing weight of the world that goes along with it.

;

;

Jimin is grabbing a quick coffee in between his classes, his back is turned from Taehyung he stops walking when he sees him. It’s been a summer since they’d last seen each other. On the weekend before their Junior year finals, they’d said this would be their last time together. Taehyung had been curled against Jimin’s back, his breathing still heavy from sex, his smell still contaminated with Jimin’s. 

“This can’t keep going,” Jimin whispered, and Taehyung knew already he’d say this. So all he did was nod and his chin brushed against Jimin’s shoulder. He took a deep breath of Jimin’s smell and left a soft kiss behind on the back of Jimin’s neck, before he got up and didn’t look back. 

God, did he want to look back. 

And going 3 long months without a single text from Jimin, a whisper of his voice, or the even the mere sight of him had Taehyung’s mind going in circles. The withdrawals were tedious and painful. And now, the first day back to the same old campus but the new schedule to a new class. The same old Jimin there, with his back turned, in a striped shirt and black skinny jeans. Tae is stiff, his books gaining pounds to have his back ache. 

And he can’t save himself, he just stands there as Jimin turns and his eyes lock on the other boy. 

His eyes are as round as they always are, his face round too, lips in a pout with his coffee burning his palm. A graze of a smile flickers along his mouth, just the slightest little flicker for Taehyung to latch onto. 

And then Jimin is gone, walking in the opposite direction and leaving Taehyung there, grieving all the waisted moments that he hadn’t just fallen to his knees before the elder and confessed to all the words that had drowned his mind but not his mouth. Now they don’t drown him, but pile in mounds of the letters and the words and the sentences until Taehyung is berried alive in his regret. 

;

Taehyung sits on his made bed, his fingers scratching the too neat sheets, the ones that he remembers Jimin on, with his strawberry lips and his peach blush. Why hadn’t he just leaned over Jimin, letting his lips find the older’s and kissing all the words he hadn’t said into Jimin, until the boy could know exactly what he had felt before it’d been a day too long on the calendar and he had to push Taehyung away. 

Tae stares at his phone, it’s black, and his fingers beg to touch it and find Jimin’s contact name, the one he’s all too familiar staring at for hours until the notification would light up. Hours pass, the room growing darker and Tae’s roommate turning off their light finally, so the room is pitch black. Taehyung feels safer in the dark, so his eyes don’t keep burning holes into his phone with how much of a coward he is. Jimin’s skin had been so soft, and his body had been so warm, and sometimes they’d put on music that was just a bit too romantic to have played while being together. But Taehyung had known it was the right music for them, maybe Jimin had known that too, that’d had been why he’d let it keep playing. 

Things weren’t too clear back then, everything had been under the title of ‘Friends with Benefits,’ and within that they had to abide by the thick rules that came along with such a title. Strict and yet foggy, clear and yet unknown. Is it wrong to neglect the title and make it his own? Neglect all those budding feelings that had quickly been torn to shreds and burned with the summer’s rich heat. 

Taehyung picks up his phone, at first his hand, sliding over the duvet, unable to find it in the dark. When his fingers do slide over its thin surface, a shiver of fear cascades through Tae’s veins. He doesn’t think as he punches in the letters to make the words, doesn’t let himself regret. 

What he says is better than saying “I love you,” or at least he thinks so. He’d hate too be too cliche with such a confession as this. 

iMessage to Jiminie 👼

it’s nearly two in the morning. you’re all i have left. you were all i had, and i know i’m stupid for saying this now, but i want you back 

;

Taehyung gets a text back at 9 in the morning the next day.

iMessage from Jiminie 👼

that’s a silly way to say i love you, tae. but without having to decode anything like i had to for you, i’ll just say it to you straight, i love you too. maybe some coffee and a scone could make it all better? meet me at 10?

;

;

(sorry for this being so melodramatic and flimsy and totally not like a hot smut ‘oooh yea im wet’ kinda deal. sometimes i just can’t write like that and i got this idea for the au and just didnt feel really steamy stuff would fit into it? idk i hope people still like it tho. also like 0 editing so excuse errors lol)

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Jives and Java

For the final day of Cassiestephkara Week the prompt was Favorite Troupe. Now I couldn’t think of a favorite troupe besides the high school au and I wanted to keep that as a verse for me to play around with more later. As such this is a mesh of a coffee shop au, a meet cute, and an identity reveal. Can also be found here on ao3. Rated G; 1,723 words Cassiestephkara

Steph knew she had to find a summer job but she was hoping to avoid working as a barista. As usual, her luck didn’t quite hold up so she found herself wearing a baseball cap and apron, working a cappuccino machine for the summer. Tim had offered to get her a paid internship at WE but she was still averse to him doing and buying things for her. Though he insisted on coming to her for his coffee and tipping extra, but it was a small, family owned shop with quality brew and pastries so Steph didn’t mind him doing that.

One afternoon as she was wiping down tables the bell over the door jangled causing her to glance up. Tim waved at her as he walked in, trailed behind by two boys and a pair of blondes. Steph’s coworker motioned that she was to come take Tim and company’s order. She grabbed her towel and weaved her way between the tables to behind the counter.

“Hey there Timbo,” she said with a grin. “What can I do ya for?”

Tim smiled and searched his pockets for his wallet. “When do you go on break?”

“Whenever I want. Why?”

“I want you to meet my friends, you know, outside of uniform,” Tim gave her a conspiring wink. Flipping out one of his credit cards he just asked for his usual and whatever the others wanted. She tapped his extra-large black coffee and chocolate croissant into the system and wrote Timmy-boy onto a cup with a little bat, because she thought she was clever. He went off to find a table and the tall dark-haired boy came up to the counter.

“Welcome to Jives and Java! How can I help you? And don’t bother paying, Tim’s already got it covered,” Steph gave her most charming grin as he studied the menu.

“Hi, yeah, uh… I have no idea what I want,” he admitted with a slight grimace.

“Well, do you like sweet or bitter?” Steph asked brightly.

“I’ve got it Kon,” the blonde with curly hair laughed. “Whatever Tim got, give him the exact opposite.” The others all laughed and Steph smirked.

“Well, I normally do that too so I’d go with the cotton candy frappe,” Steph suggested.

The boy wrinkled his nose but the other girl smiled. “I’ll take one of those!”

Steph tapped in the order. “Can I have a name for the cup?”

“Kara, K-A-R-A,” The girl spelled as Steph scribbled it down. On a whim, she drew a heart after the girl’s name.

“Can I have a decaf macchiato with whole milk?” the other boy asked and Steph bobbed her head. “A medium?” Steph grabbed the proper cup and uncapped her sharpie once again, patiently waiting with the tip just above the paper. “Bart. As in Bartholomew. But just the first four letters,” he told her, rapid fire. She wrote it down and added a squiggly lightning bolt on the end. Placing the cup in line on top of the machine she turned back to the last boy, who was actually the first.

“Can I have a cinnamon apple tea? That’s for Conner with an E-R at the end. I know, lame,” he chuckled.

Steph wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Nah, your order is actually the easiest and so my favorite,” she shot the group a smile. She hadn’t realized that Tim was going to introduce her to his Titan friends, well introduce Steph seeing as how Batgirl already knew them all. Since taking their orders she knew exactly who they were, three of them didn’t wear a mask anyway.

The final girl had finished studying the menu and came closer to the counter. “Can I get a large caramel mocha and a strawberry crepe? For Cassie,” she smiled warmly and Steph returned it. Scribbling the name down she added a star over the I and at the end. She finished ringing everything up and swiped Tim’s card, passing it to Cassie.

Her coworker had already started on the drinks so Steph plated the pastries and grabbed her own cotton candy frappe. “I’m going to go on break then.” Her coworker just shrugged as Steph grabbed the tray and walked to the back corner where the teen heroes had commandeered a table.

She handed out the drinks before flopping into the booth next to Tim, slurping her pink and frothy drink up her straw. Tim practically inhaled the first third of his coffee before realizing that everyone was waiting on him to make introductions. Steph knew she could just introduce herself but she liked forcing the boy blunder to be social. When he realized that he was who they were waiting on he settled the paper cup on the table and self-consciously ran his finger over the black ink of his name. His eye caught on the bat and he shared a self-deprecating grin with her.

“So, this is my friend Steph. Steph these are my, uh, camp friends. Kon, Kara, Cassie, and Bart,” he pointed to each in turn.

“Camp?” Steph asked with a raised brow. “Tim. Really? Camp.” His cheeks colored and the others squirmed uncomfortably. Steph waved her hand at them. “Relax. I know. My only question is, where’s Tam?”

Tim swallowed his coffee quickly before answering. “She’s on vacation with her family. I thought you knew?”

“Practically and actually a Wayne are two very different things,” Steph responded dryly.

Kara’s eyes widened. “No way,” she whispered.

Steph laughed and nodded. “So, what’re you lot doing in Gotham? You know we have strict rules around here.”

“We know he’s off world right now,” Cassie smirked. “Tim said we had to check out the best coffee shop in Gotham, while we could.”

“He also said that it had the best look barista in all of Gotham too,” Kon said with a wink. Steph nearly whacked the back of her head on the booth she laughed so hard. Tim’s eyes narrowed to half Batglare™ level at his best friend. Kon was able to shrug it off but suddenly doubled over with an “Oof!” From Bart’s laughter and the girls’ grins they had apparently elbowed him in the stomach simultaneously.

“I like you friends,” she stage whispered to Tim.

“We like you too! I mean I do, uh like you that is,” Kara stopped as her face reddened.

Bart smiled at her before turning back to address Steph. “You ever in Cali let us know!”

“Trust me, I will. No way I can afford a hotel out there on these tips,” Steph laughed.

“You’re more than welcome to crash in my room,” Cassie said with an easy smile.

“Thanks! I’ve got to head back,” Steph said. She finished her frothy pink drink and slid out of the booth. “I get off at three if you guys are still in town and wanna hang?”

“We were going to head back to the manor and play video games,” Tim said as he looked at the table for their responses.

“Why don’t you guys game and Kara and I can meet Steph and hit the shops?” Cassie suggested.

Everyone nodded and Steph grinned. “Ok! I’ll meet you here at three then,” she said before walking back to the counter.

***

Steph stuffed her apron and hat into her messenger bag as she waved to her coworkers. Cassie and Kara were waiting patiently outside the shop. Kara with her sundress and Cassie with her jean short overalls and crop top, they looked like any two teenagers hanging out on a warm summer afternoon. Not a single Gothamite passing by would have guessed two of the most powerful people in the world were right there playing Pokemon Go. Then again, they didn’t realize the true night life of their first family either.

“Hey guys!” Steph called as she walked towards them.

They both raised their heads from their phones and smiled at her. Kara waved it toward her excitedly. “Look! I caught an Eevee! I know they’re not much of anything but I think they’re adorable. I have about 10 and every evolution,” Kara trailed off as her cheeks started to turn pink.

“Kara, I’m not the type to judge one on their favorite pokemon. Now what team you’re on is another story entirely,” Steph raised her eyebrows imploringly.

Cassie burst out laughing. “Valor all the way!” Steph gave her a victorious high five as Kara’s cheeks turned a deep red. “She’s on Instinct,” Cassie said.

“Aw. That’s actually really cute. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, cause he’d totally kill me, but so is Dami.” Steph clapped Kara on the shoulder. The other girl just looked at her incredulously. “On my own grave I swear it!”

Cassie winced at that. “I don’t mean to be rude but uh, are the death jokes necessary?”

“As Jason says, ‘They’re a coping mechanism’,” Steph shrugged.

Kara exchanged a concerned look with Cassie. Steph noticed Cassie pursing her lips back at Kara. If she knew Cassie better than Steph would have been able to see the concern in her expression too.

“Why don’t we go hit the shopping district? Tim left me his card so we can have some fun,” Steph said, trying to dispel the slight chill that had fallen over the three girls.

“Ok,” Kara said with a bright smile.

“I’m always down to spend Wayne family money,” Cassie smirked.

The three girls left the front of the coffee shop and headed downtown, their blonde hair fluttering in the wind. The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of fun. Cassie told them all about her mom’s latest exhibition in Peru and how she had been helping in her free time. Kara talked about moving to the Kent farm and helping with the chores. Feeding the newborn calves was her favorite. Steph entertained them with tales from the coffee shop. Regaling crazy costumers, crazy orders, and just plan odd encounters.

By the end of the day the three had made plans to meet again, this time to go Pokemon hunting in San Francisco. Steph had been so glad that Tim had introduced her, Stephanie Brown that is, to Cassie Sandsmark and Kara Danvers. Hanging out as Batgirl, Supergirl, and Wonder Girl was certainly fun, but as three average girls was ten times better.