#and rides perched on his shoulder and hes just yes wonderful i am this wonderful cats butler

[moeblob]

she's filled to the brim with love...

[kissitbttr]

dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party

a small follow up from this !

|

there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.

you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.

one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.

no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?

until now.

you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,

and boy, does he look so hot doing it.

he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream

dear god, please do not make me wet tonight

“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”

toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”

“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,

“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,

“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,

“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”

you nod. “mhmm!”

“you like it?”

“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”

“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”

“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”

he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”

“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,

toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,

40..?

oh…

a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”

“how old did you think i am?”

“hmm, 27?”

he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”

god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,

“are you single?”

he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”

giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”

toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.

you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.

“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”

“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”

he’s got a kid?! holyshit,

“how old is he?”

“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”

“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”

“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”

hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”

toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”

you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”

his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,

“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”

you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”

“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”

slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”

but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”

a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,

he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”

“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,

“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,

when was the last time someone called you that?

throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—

you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.

despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.

you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,

really fucking gorgeous.

toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,

god, your pink. glossy . lips.

“is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”

you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”

“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”

nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”

“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,

your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”

he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,

“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel

“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”

no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.

“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,

you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.

you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,

you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,

you really can’t wait to see him again

—

next part, first date?👀

a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3

taglist:

@fushipurro

@crocodilethesir

@chilichopsticks

@trentknd

@tojis-ball-sack

@hellokittyloverrxox

@xavlyzn

[wixenforever]

(this gif of the otter is me with my phone SPINNING IN A CIRCLE IN MY LIVING ROOM BECAUSE I'M SO FREAKING HAPPY)

Okay. Okay. Holy shit. TAKE A BREATH. *gasps*.

First of all. First sketch, with John riding Theo. I CACKLED. I laughed SO HARD you have absolutely perfectly captured John's manic energy and I love it so much. Harry just presenting these two, like, "Look what I found! Aren't they neat?" While the said two, very rough around the edges figures, try their best to look normal and approachable and fail miserably AHAHAH! LOVELY!!!!!!!!

Second sketch with all the Theo faces, and him in his chair, I. Am. Speechless. Love everything. HIS CUTE LITTLE SMILE READING THE LETTERS I COULD DIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. That's exactly how I picture it I'm crying oh my god.....

Okay. Before I move on. To answer your questions in the notes - I have been sort of intentionally vague about exactly how Theo looks, and also Harry, in a way, because I like for readers to feel able to apply their own kind of preferences to characters? You know? But how I picture him is not far off the mark as you were saying:

Tall and lanky, yes. Boney, one may say. He got those tall viking genes but he's not got the muscle.

Dirty blonde hair that tends to get curly especially when it gets long. I'll be honest I think of my fiance's hair for this one though his is darker colored. And he has kinda long bangs around his face. And the bangs. Theo's going full Viking braid-style eventually and Harry will froth at the mouth for it lololol.

High cheekbones. If he ever saw sun, he would freckle, but he's always inside or creeping around in the woods so he's usually pretty pale.

BIG DARK BLUE EYES. I don't care if it's not a real color. It's a real color to me. His mom had purple eyes. His dad had light blue eyes. Together they made a lapis lazuli colored iris.

Not traditionally handsome or straight-up beautiful but extremely, extremely cute smile, like full-on, crinkly eyes, big grin, unbeatably magnetic smile, ACK. And he covers his mouth when he smiles because he's self-conscious about it. And he's got slightly crooked teeth, one of his canines is kind of pushed diagonally in front of the one next to it.

Final sketch. Harry's struggle to keep his thoughts "G rated, strictly friends, calm down Potter" and the intensity of his frown - spot on, lmao. And Theo just TOTALLY OBLIVIOUS is even better!!!!!!! Meanwhile John is snickering on Theo's shoulder ahahahah! I think John would love perching on Theo's shoulders sometimes because he's so tall, but he cuddles with Harry because he is nice and warm.

Okay. I cry. I cry with joy. My year has been made, I can die happy. I never, ever thought someone would make art of my fic. I love this. Even if it's not finished I love it so much I'm going to buy a printer and print this out to put on my wall. You are so talented and I'm jealous of everyone who can draw, because I absolutely can't.

I love you. did I say that? I love you 5ever. Talk about happy brain chemicals. Now I can look at this at any time and see such a wonderful, lovely gift and feel so honored!! If you're okay with it I would LOVE to link this art in the notes of the next chapter so other people can see!!! Only if that's ok with you tho.

HEY @wixenforever I COME BEARING HUMBLE GIFTS FOR TBOTL.

I've been frothing at the mouth since yesterday's fic update :) At every update of TBoTL, really. Speaking of which, I was feeling downright terrible right when you posted the new chapter, and it INSTANTLY rewired the chemicals in my brain. Thanks for that. Also: doodles!! I drew these a week ago but I wanted to clean them up and draw them better, but I thought why not post them anyway? I'll draw more. I will. I will because your story is stuck in my head. And the only way to get it out is drawing and drawing and drawing. Experience demands it.

[phoenix-downer]

The Way You See Me

~2360 words. Roxas/Naminé. Royalty AU. Meet Cute, Romance, Fluff. Includes Portrait Sitting and Fancy Balls. POV Roxas. Written for @rokunamizine. Leftover sales are now open: https://rokunamizine.bigcartel.com/

Summary: Prince Roxas is due to sit for another royal portrait to add to the collection lining the castle walls, but the pretty, charming young lady named Naminé is not at all who he expected to be the artist.

The banner art is by the wonderful @ao-kagi! Please check out her other pieces as well and give her your support ❤️

Knowing from birth that you’re gonna be king someday really puts pressure on a guy. 

Ruling is a great responsibility, his father always said. He would know, being king himself. Which meant Roxas had to prepare to be king from the time he could walk. And he got the importance of being ready to rule, but there was just so much he had to learn. It made the extra court stuff seem really unnecessary. Like what his mother the queen was pushing him to do now.

“Do I really need another royal portrait?” he said, eyeing the nineteen other ones lining the walls of the room. Surely he didn’t look that different from last year, right? Same spiky blond hair, same serious face, same bored haughty look. No smiling allowed because it didn’t give off a regal enough air, apparently. 

“Yes,” his mother responded matter-of-factly. She lifted up two different types of flowers, white lilies and blue roses, and he pointed to the roses. “It’s been a year, Roxas, and you still aren't married. We can use this year’s portrait to advertise the masquerade ball.” 

“Getting married just isn’t that big of a priority right now,” he muttered. “I have to focus on my training to be king.” 

“Yes, but you will need a wife eventually. It’s not something you can put off forever.” She held up a yellow ribbon and a pink one, and he pointed to the yellow ribbon and sighed deeply. This was a conversation that popped up more and more often, but he really didn’t want to think about it. 

“When am I supposed to sit for my portrait?” he finally asked, because he knew fighting his mother on this was pointless. Especially when she was on a roll with the ball preparations. Planning events like this really put her in her element, especially ones that involved her beloved son. 

“This afternoon,” she replied. “Don’t worry, I’ve already had the servants clear your schedule.” She turned to one of them, a tall, lanky woman with impeccably-styled hair. “Thank you, Alexandra, for arranging that.” 

He sighed deeply. His mother was nothing if not efficient, and the staff adored her for treating them like family. He really could take a page out of her book.

The rest of the morning passed without incident, then lunch, and then it was back to the portrait room to meet the artist. Roxas was expecting an older guy with white hair and glasses perched on his nose, someone who had been painting longer than Roxas had been alive. There’d been a few men and women like that who’d painted him over the years, masters at their craft who were impossibly old. Who would it be this time? Sir Hokusai? Lady Cassatt? Sir Jacques-Louis David?

His eyes flickered to the portrait from last year, still hanging proudly on the wall. He was seated on his stallion Hengroen, about to ride into battle. Something he’d never actually done but what he’d been training all his life for. Sir David had painted that one. Maybe it would be Sir Hokusai this year.

There was a hesitant knock. “Come in,” he called, and a moment later, the door creaked open. 

He wasn’t prepared for the beauty that floated into the room. Her golden hair cascaded down her shoulder, her blue and yellow dress was simple but elegant, and in her hands she held a sketchpad, pencils, and paints.

Wait, she was the artist? She wasn’t who Roxas had been expecting at all!

“Are you gonna be painting me?” he said, then winced at how stupid the question was. What else would she be doing here?

She just smiled shyly and nodded. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince Roxas,” she said with a bow. “My name is Naminé. I may be young, but I do have the necessary credentials.” She shuffled through her things. “Here.”

She handed Roxas her certificate of training. Apprentice artists always worked with master artists for seven years before they had a shot at becoming full artists. Then it was another seven years before they could apply for master status themselves. Her certificate indicated she’d just become a full artist this year.

She was around his age, then. A lot of apprentices went into their trades at thirteen or fourteen. 

“My master couldn’t be here today,” she said, “so he asked me to come in his stead to make the initial sketches and paintings. Rest assured, I will do my very best on your portrait.”

“I have no doubt about your abilities,” Roxas said as he handed the certificate back. “You have top scores from one of the best painters in the kingdom.” 

She ducked her head. “Your Highness knows the reputation of my master and even knows how to read my certification in detail?” 

“It’s important I know what the lives of my future subjects are like. I want to rule them fairly when I’m king.”

She looked up, and he found himself getting lost in her eyes. He’d never seen anything like them before. Soft violet with an intensity that took his breath away.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “My apologies, Your Highness, I’ve never been around royalty before, and I’m a little flustered. But it’s an honor to be here, and—”

“Trust me, the honor is all mine.”

Her face flushed and she looked away. “Your Highness isn’t just well-educated; he’s very charming, too.”

“I don’t know about that. And you can drop the ‘Your Highness.’ Just…Call me Roxas, okay?” 

Her eyes went wide. “But—”

“Please, Naminé. I promise you won’t get in trouble.”

She relaxed. “Okay.”

Roxas smiled and decided to lighten the mood further. “But enough about me, my mother wants her royal portrait, and she’s gonna get it.” He chuckled darkly. “If you think I’m charming, multiply it by ten and you’ve got an idea of how good she is at getting her way.” He thought for a moment, then added, “She always uses her powers for good though. Always to help other people, never herself.” 

Naminé smiled as she set out her art supplies on a nearby table. “It sounds like you really admire her.” She selected a pencil from her repertoire like a conductor preparing to direct an orchestra. “Any requests for your portrait?”

“Please, just don’t ask me to make a stoic face like this,” he demonstrated with an exaggerated frown and stiff upper lip, making her giggle, “or make me sit in an awkward pose for hours on end like this,” he gestured, positioning himself like was sitting on horseback.

“I promise I won’t. Sounds like you’ve had to do a lot of poses other people wanted. Tell me, Roxas, what would you like?”

He thought for a moment. No one had ever really asked him that before. “Paint me the way you see me,” he finally said.

“The way I see you?” she asked, tilting her head.

“The way you see me. Not as a future king or a prince or anything like that. No, paint me like I’m a person you’d feel comfortable talking to.” He hesitated, then added, “Paint me through your eyes.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Usually, when Roxas had to sit for his portraits for hours on end, he got bored. But watching Naminé draw was mesmerizing. The initial part of the portrait process involved a lot of sketches, and she worked like a magician wielding her wand. She asked him questions about his life, his interests, his hobbies, what made him laugh and smile. And he asked her about herself too, about what it was like to be an apprentice and grow up in the castle town. 

Really, he was glad for the excuse to get to know her better, even if it was just for this portrait. 

By the time she was done for the day’s session, she’d completed several sketches. As she packed up her tools, he asked, “You’ll be here again tomorrow, right?”

She smiled. “Yes, Roxas. I’ll see you then.”

The next few weeks went by like this, and seeing her was the highlight of his day. He couldn’t wait to talk to her, laugh with her, smile at her. When at last they reached the sessions where she started painting him, she kept the canvas hidden from him. 

“I want you to be surprised,” she explained, a twinkle in her eye. 

He just sighed and gazed happily at her. He would’ve done anything she asked of him.

A few more weeks of this passed until one morning, Roxas strode into the portrait room expecting to find Naminé, but instead he found the finished portrait. A light blanket was draped over it, and on the blanket was a note. 

Here’s your portrait, Roxas. I hope you like it! I’m sorry I couldn’t be here in person to show you, but I’ve been called away on another assignment. Please send word to my master if there are any changes you’d like.

As he removed the blanket with shaking fingers, his mouth dropped open. This was the best portrait anyone had ever painted of him. Naminé had a masterful sense of light and color, and her brushstrokes were bold and fluid. But that wasn’t what caught his attention or made his heart race. It was how she’d painted him that took his breath away. The delight in his eyes, the smile on his face, the faint blush dusting his cheeks…Was this how she saw him?

Was this how he looked at her?

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at the painting when his mother entered the room. 

“I knew I made the right choice in requesting a young lady,” she said, beaming. She wrapped an arm around him and squeezed his shoulder. “This portrait is fantastic. It’ll be perfect for the invitations to the ball.”

He searched her eyes. “Wait, you requested Naminé?”

“Not Naminé in particular, but a young lady, yes. I figured it was about time we got a different perspective.” She looked at the portrait again and grinned. “I’d say you’re quite taken with her, and she with you.”

Roxas gulped. Was it possible Naminé liked him too? Well, only one way to find out. 

“I want to invite her to the ball.” 

His mother’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s an artisan, not of noble blood.” 

“I don’t care. I want to see her again.”

His mother studied him for a few moments, then laughed and ruffled his hair. “You’re as stubborn as your father,” she said, her voice full of affection. “I can see you have your heart set on this girl. Alright, we’ll invite all the eligible young maidens in the kingdom so she can come too.”

The night of the ball, Roxas couldn’t calm the fluttery feeling in his stomach. Would Naminé come? He wanted to see her again, more than anything. 

As he paced the halls waiting for the guests to arrive, his mother laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Roxas, calm down. She’ll be here.” 

“And in the meantime,” his father added, “remember you are a host and must entertain all your guests.”

“Right,” Roxas said, fiddling with his eagle mask. As much as he wanted to focus on Naminé completely, he had his duties to attend to. As the guests trickled in, he did his best to compliment everyone’s costumes. But he couldn’t help but search for the person he most wanted to see. Even when he was dancing with the other young ladies, he couldn’t help but dream of dancing with Naminé.

But as the hours went by, he began to lose hope. Maybe he’d just imagined the way she smiled at him. Maybe she was just doing her job and he’d read too much into things. Maybe it was foolish to wish she’d come just to see him.  

Just as he was about to give up, however, there was a great stirring at the top of the balcony. Everyone turned to look at what the commotion was about, and Roxas’s heart pounded and his mouth went dry. 

Naminé was there, wearing a dress so shimmering and beautiful she looked like an angel. Her golden hair drifted down her shoulders in gentle waves, glitter adorned her face in the shape of a mask, and gossamer wings extended from her back. He removed his mask so he could more easily see her…and so she could see him. Their eyes met, and when she smiled, he knew he would be happy to look at her and her alone for the rest of his life. As he strode to her and she glided to him, all his carefully-planned words fled his mind.

When at last they’d reached each other, she smiled shyly. “We meet again. Sorry I’m late. My costume took a bit longer to finish than I was expecting.”

He cleared his throat, the heat creeping up his cheeks as he tried to get his brain to form coherent thoughts. “Um, you look…you look…really beautiful.” Her smile got bigger, and now he really couldn’t think clearly anymore. “Your costume is amazing,” he heard himself say, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I could never make something like it, er, I mean, I can only imagine how much time and effort it took you to make it.” He cringed over how much he was fumbling, but at least he remembered his manners well enough to add, “Thank you for coming.” 

She blushed and ducked her head. “Thank you for asking, I’m honored to be here. Though I must admit, I was a little surprised when I got the invitation.” 

“Why? The moment I saw the finished portrait, I knew I had to ask.”

“I just painted you the way I see you, that’s all.”

"You’re too modest.” Roxas smiled and offered his hand. “You’ve shown them the way you see me. Now I want to show them the way I see you. Please, may I have this dance?” 

Her lips parted and her eyes went wide, then she smiled and took his hand. 

“Yes.”

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A/N: A big, big thank you to everyone who made RokuNami zine possible! I really enjoyed modding the project and working with you all, it was wonderful seeing all the love and passion for RokuNami ❤️ And thank you to everyone who bought the zine and supported the charity RedRover ❤️ 

Also, thank you to @scoobysnack1107 and @angel-with-a-pipette for reading over the story for me and offering feedback and suggestions ❤️ 

And a big thank you to @ao-kagi​ for collaborating with me and drawing the beautiful banner art 🥺 ❤️ It captures Roxas and Naminé’s playful joy and instant chemistry so well, and I really enjoyed working with you ❤️ I love the costume designs you chose as well and then the brushes you used for the textures, it all looks fantastic!

Last but not least, thank you all for reading! I had a lot of fun with this one, especially with the references to famous artists (all I want now is to see a ridiculous portrait of Roxas riding a horse a la Napoleon Crossing The Alps lol). And then the ballroom scene at the end was inspired by Cinderella 2015 and Ever After, those entrance scenes are so magical, and I hope to have captured a little of that magic. 

Thank you again everyone!

[loveazumane]

—𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠.

summary: yami knew what your weakness was. and that weakness was him

warnings: nsfw. thigh riding. fingering.

word count: 1.3k

you were always so helpless and weak for yami sukehiro, the infamous captain of the black bulls. and although he was dense and oblivious, he knew this too. as much as you were strong and held no sign of fault, when yami did something as small as tapping you on the shoulder, you’d instantly melt and fall victim of his touch.

so when a mission came up and you were told that the enemy would play at your heartstrings by using your weakness as an illusion, yami was set on helping you surpass your limits. that meant there was going to be a ton of touching. and that brings you to your current situation.

you’re sitting in front of yami, cheeks and ears hot with both nervousness and excitement as he stares you down, a cigarette nonchalantly sat between the hold of his lips.

“you know you’re weak, right?” yami says. “you easily lay your heart on a plate just for a man like me.”

your eyes twitch a little. you knew yourself already, it wasn’t necessary for him to tell you that. still, you kept your mouth sealed and let him continue.

before speaking, he blows out a puff of smoke. “sit here.”

you see him tap on his leg and your eyes blow wide open. “w-what?”

“am i not speaking loud enough? seriously. don’t tell me you’re an idiot too.” yami taps on his leg once more. “sit here.”

you hesitantly stand and approach him before perching yourself on his lap. you’re stiff as you sit on him, wondering why you had to sit on your captain in a way that seemed as though you were together. yami, on the other hand, seemed to be relaxed. you wondered how he could be so easily nonchalant while you were about to lose every ounce of insanity you had.

“why... why are we doing this?” you ask.

yami glances into your eyes and you snap away. he sighs. “training.”

“i don’t understand how this would be training,” you tell him.

“ha? you freak out whenever i touch you and you get nervous when i talk to you--just like right now. seriously, idiot, if you don’t start getting close to me and feeling calm, you’d be a dead rat on the side of the street.” you feel yami’s large hand rest on your thigh and you jolt. “see. how are you going to face the mage who shows an image of me?”

he’s right. “so,” you cough, “what do we do?”

“what we’re doing right now.” yami’s hand travels higher up your thigh, causing goosebumps to rise from your skin. you shiver and try to move, but it only gives you a strange friction between your legs. curse the tight pants you decided to wear. when you were about to get up, in fear he would sense the burning arousal, yami holds you back by twisting you around so his thigh is pressed up against your core. “where do you think you’re going?”

you gasp and a moan slips from your lips. “i--”

yami lets out a chortle. “ha... getting all sensitive again? i’m starting to think i shouldn’t send you on the mission.”

“yes! i mean… yes, you should. i’m important to the team,” you defend yourself weakly.

“then for this training, i want you to try your best and not cum.”

your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you hear the words that come out of his mouth. “what?”

yami’s eyebrows furrow in seriousness before pushing you down against his leg which makes you twitch and whine. “what? you can’t do something as simple as that?”

simple? you beg to differ. yami was a man you’ve been pining for since the day you met him. there was no way that you could hold back the reactions he’s willing to give you. in fact, it was close to impossible to not cum by his actions. thankfully, yami seems to get the hint by the way your expression is flushed.

“fine. as long as you can hold it back for a few minutes.” yami pushes you down again and you moan. “you hear me?”

you nod. “yes, captain.”

yami smirks a little before his large hands start caressing the side of your hips. before long, he begins to move you slowly, grinding your heated core against his thigh. you can barely compose yourself, trying your best to keep your breath steady and body steady as you hold his broad shoulder for support.

the cotton material that separates you from his skin is driving you mad, but the more he lifts you up and brings you back down has your mind blanking for a good long time that you can hardly focus. when you feel him flex his thigh, your pussy clenches and you fall against him.

“now… don’t be giving in too easily,” yami mutters.

you nod feverishly before sitting straight. the pressure against your core is too much, and whenever he flexes, it only puts stimulation against your clit. within a few seconds, you could have already come undone.

“look at me.”

your breath is caught in your throat. you hadn’t realized you were avoiding yami’s gaze this whole time. it was probably because you were trying your best to please him by doing as he was told. you wanted to show him that you weren’t as weak as he said you were to be. but the second he told you to look at him, you were practically trembling.

“look at me.” his tone was more forceful and you looked at him, straight into his dark orbs and your pussy flutters once more. “good girl. i like that you’re trying to be tough.”

you try to utter a word, but a moan falls from your lips instead. your toes curl and your eyes nearly roll back. it wasn’t because of yami’s leg pressing up your core. this time, it was his large and thick fingers rubbing against your clothed clit.

“w-what are you doing? i thought we were just…” you gasp when he dips his fingers under your underwear and his warm skin makes contact with your wet folds.

“battles are unexpected. sometimes you have to work with surprises,” yami says.

you try to keep your eyes locked on him but when you feel him slip a finger, thick and hot, into your dripping core, you tremble. you can’t hold it any longer. although it was just one finger, yami’s digits were incredibly thick and girthy, enough to have you stretched wide and nice.

“you’re so warm in here. and it seems like you’re going to cum. too fast even.” yami continues to provoke you, pushing his finger deeper until the palm of his hand caresses your clit.

“i—i can’t hold myself back any longer,” you tell him honestly, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

the knot in your stomach was incredibly loose, ready to untie and fall, but your determination to receive permission before you cum was able to keep it glued together. still, you weren’t sure how long.

“please… please let me cum,” you beg.

yami sighs. “mmm, fine. cum all over my finger.”

and he lets you ride it out until you cum, your body falling slump against his as you jolt from the incredible orgasm. you’re exhausted and twitching from the climax, but that doesn’t stop yami from lifting you up so you can try and stand.

you’re shaky and your legs are weak, but you do your best. you look at yami shyly and you feel embarrassment wash over you when you see him lick his fingers—the same fingers used to touch you at your most lewd area.

“tomorrow, we’ll continue again. you’re still weak.”

you nod and scurry away. behind you, you’re unaware that yami’s “training” was purely soiled from greed. he loved seeing you groveling and weak for him. he loved the effect he had on you. and if he could, he’d have you on your knees and sucking his cock until you can’t help but rely on his touch every single day of every single second.

you were weak, yes, but yami’s fascination over you made him even much more pathetically weak than you were.

𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙘𝙚: velvet kiss

[kookiecrumb]

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

~

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

[ikeromantic]

Delicious (NSFW edition)

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction taking place at the end of Ch. 13 in the romantic route. Approx. 1700 words of Fluff and Spice! Some spoilers maybe?

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Tears of Joy

There were three things in this world Mitsuhide enjoyed above all else. One of them was a hot bath, and one of them was teasing his little mouse. To have both in one place at the same time was decadent.

Right this moment, his little one was sinking into the hot water, her expression one of pure pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, cheeks faintly pink. A sheen of sweat covered her brow from the steam. She looked . . . delicious.

Of course, she chose the moment he licked his lips to open her eyes. “Mitsuhide! You - you’re staring at me!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Little one, I’ve seen you naked several times now. Why are you suddenly shy?”

“I - you - I feel like a real mouse about to be eaten up by a very happy cat.”

“Kitsune,” Mitsuhide corrected.

She blinked. “What?”

“About to be eaten by a very happy kitsune.”

She giggled. “Yes, I guess that.”

“You have such a beautiful smile, my love.” He watched her expression shift from laughter to charmed surprise.

“I don’t know what to say when you say things like that.” She touched her face, where the bruise still discolored her skin. “Especially right now.”

Mitsuhide shook his head. “Silly little mouse. As if such a fading mark makes you any less.” He shrugged off his clothes and let them pool at his feet.

Whatever she had been about to say was reduced to a sharp exhale at his sudden nudity. Her eyes went wide as she tried to fix her gaze on a point somewhere above his chest.

“Is there something wrong?”

“N-no! No, of course not! You’re. Just. Naked. All the way. Naked.” She swallowed.

Mitsuhide grinned. “I did plan to bathe with you this time . . .” He *might* have posed himself to best display his . . . attributes. “Should I wait until you finish instead?”

She licked her lips and shook her head. “I - you - just get in and quit teasing me!”

“What fun would that be, little mouse?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. Perhaps never. He walked slowly to the edge of the tub, using his dancer’s grace to draw out the movement. It was worth every second to see the stain on her cheeks darken and the desire in her eyes grow.

He stepped into the wooden tub and sank down into the hot water. A little groan of pleasure escaped him as he felt the tension melt from his legs and back. “If there is a heaven, little mouse, this is in it.”

She smiled. “I wish I could introduce you to the baths in my time. And hot showers!”

“Mmm, perhaps one day. Your friend seemed to think these . . . warm-holes? Will come again.”

“Sasuke did say as much. I don’t know how sure he is though. I mean, what if we went to my time and got stuck? Or what if I went but it wouldn’t take you?” She chewed at her lip, anxious over all the possible things that could go wrong on such a trip.

It was too adorable, Mitsuhide thought, and put his arm around her. He pulled her next to him and placed a kiss on her head. “Don’t worry about things that are not problems. We have enough ahead of us.”

His little one laughed softly. “True enough. I’m sure Nobunaga and Hideyoshi will have plenty to say when we get home.”

“Yes, those two for certain. But I don’t want to talk about them tonight. Tonight . . . there is only you, and I.” Mitsuhide ran his hand down her back, glorying in her soft skin, and the way she leaned into his touch.

“Oh? Are we going to talk about us?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

He nodded. “We will. But first-” He settled his hands on her hips and lifted her around to sit in front of him. “Let’s enjoy our bath.” He cupped water in his hands and poured it over her hair, running his fingers through it. “I will start with the top of you, and work all the way to the bottom.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling her little, wicked smile. “The bottom, hm?” And then she wiggled against him.

Mitsuhide couldn’t have held back the groan that burst from his lips, or the sharp intake of breath that followed. He’d been hard when he got into the bath, but now he felt as if he might burst. The sensation of her naked skin rubbing his cock was like fuel to his flame. And she knew it. She was smiling more widely now, fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“Oh . . . little one . . . you will pay for that,” he breathed.

“Looking forward to it,” she replied, spoiling the bravado a bit by swallowing nervously after.

Though it was sheer torment to keep her pressed against him, Mitsuhide held her there as he first rinsed her hair. Then he rubbed her skin with fragrant herbs, gently removing the dust of their travel.

It was hard enough to wash her back, but when he turned her around, she used the moment to wrap her legs around his waist. Positioning herself deliciously atop his erection. He ached to be inside her, and wondered if his little mouse had any idea how much self control it took him not to simply . . .

She was laughing softly. Her eyes were merry and her smile was brilliant.

“Wicked little mouse. If I were any other man -” he growled low in his throat, letting his frustration show.

She leaned forward until her nipples brushed the skin of his chest. “Mitsuhide. I want you. You don’t need to hold back with me.”

And then he was kissing her. It wasn’t what he’d planned. Wasn’t the seduction he’d wanted to perform, but gods . . . she tasted so sweet. And she felt like silk. Her slick, warm fingers stroked his chest, his hip. Curled around his shaft. He thought he would die from the pleasure of it as she slid her hand slowly up, and then down again. His body shuddered against her.

Two could play at that though. If she wanted to bring him to the brink . . . He grabbed her breast in one hand, teasing the nipple with his fingers. His other hand slid down between her legs. He could feel how much she wanted him just by the heat from her.

The sound she made when he stroked her sweet pearl was half-gasp, half moan. He smiled, watching the way she trembled as he slid the pad of his thumb over her cleft again. Not that it helped his own situation. Touching her was torture. Like the sound of dripping water when you were mad with thirst.

She gave a raw cry of pleasure as he slipped his fingers inside of her, clenching tight on him as if she would hold him there. “M-my god . . . M-mitsu . . . hide - I - I -”

He might have said something then, taunted her a little, but she stroked him again, and whatever words he had were lost. He wanted to bury himself in her, to make her cry his name until she was hoarse from it. His fingers slid into her again and again, but it wasn’t enough for either of them.

Gasping, he moved his hands to her hips and pulled her into position atop him.

“Ah-haha,” she gave a panting laugh. “Y-you d-didn’t beg me. Yet.” And then his little mouse - no! His little vixen - rubbed his cock between her legs, pressing him tight enough that he could feel her clench as if to pull him inside. She moaned as his shaft rubbed the hard pebble of her clit.

It was enough to drive him mad. This game she was playing . . . she wanted him to beg. Then for her, he would. “Please.” The word purred from his throat. “Please . . .” Low and hoarse and desperate.

She rose up, and then sank down onto his shaft. Her body shuddered and she let out a piercing cry of pleasure that went higher the deeper he went.

Mitsuhide was a proud man. He would have liked to draw this first time out - to ride her to completion several times before he found his own satisfaction. But the feel of her climaxing against him, the sound of her, the sight of her breasts . . . it was too much. After months of teasing himself with her, and taking no other woman to his bed, he couldn’t hold back.

“I love you,” she gasped, her hips rising and falling as she rode him.

He pulled her down to his lips, kissing her until their tremors subsided. “I love you too, little one,” he said when he could speak again. He felt so relaxed that he didn’t want to move. Not an inch. He liked having her perched on him, impaled. Her naked breasts floating in the hot water, brushing his chest. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes on him, and only him.

“We waited way too long for this. Just. Mmmmm . . .” She smiled.

Mitsuhide stroked her cheek. “I wanted to wait. I wanted to be sure that . . . that you wanted this. Me.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea how sure I am.”

“I think I might,” he smiled. Then his expression turned serious. “When we get back to Azuchi, I plan to ask Nobunaga for the right to marry you. I will make you my wife. Officially. In name and title . . . if . . . if you are willing.”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Mitsuhide Akechi?” She wiggled her hips, which made him gasp involuntarily.

“I am.”

“Then yes. If you promise me we’ll make love like this every night.”

Mitsuhide kissed the tip of her nose. “I can’t promise you that.”

“What? Why not?”

He grinned. “Because I plan to make love to you in a thousand inventive ways. I plan to tease you until you beg for release. To pleasure you as an art form. One that I will master. This . . . tonight . . . this was only a beginning.”

“Mmmm, I think our beginning isn’t quite over,” she smiled. And she was right. He was ready for her again.

That night he began an intense study of this new art form. After the bath, they moved to the bench, then the desk and the wall, and finally . . .the futon. Spent, they fell asleep in each other’s arms just as the light of morning began to peek through the window. It wasn’t near enough to wake the exhausted lovers.

Next: Hero's Welcome

[dcbutinamrev]

First Impressions

Based on my headcanon where Laurens’ Southern gentleman habits get the best of him and introduces Hamilton as if he were a woman. This scenario won't leave me alone so here, have some fluff for your souls-

~~~

Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens listens to the sound of his horse hooves clopping against the narrow, dusty gravel road as he approaches the nearest Continental encampment. He tightens his grasp around his reigns, keeping his eyes trained ahead of him and his body swaying along slightly to the horse’s movements. He glances up at the scenery before him. Over his months of being across seas in England for his schooling, he has missed the peaceful woodland surrounding him. But he is not here to enjoy the scenery.

Laurens makes a left and ducks his head underneath a few branches hovering over him, clutching onto his black tricorn hat perched on his powered hair, the flaps of his cloak flopping behind him lightly. Like a feather tickling his sides. Laurens presses his lips together tightly as his bright blue eyes widen slightly as he nears the encampent. He swallows the lump down his throat and positions himself into a comfortable position on his saddle, tightening his grip around the reigns harder. So hard, he’d believe himself they’d turn white.

Laurens lets out a shaky breath as he approaches two scentries standing before a tent, their rifles mounted beside them tightly. Laurens breathes in slowly and holds his breath there in place before slowing his horse down into a moderate pace and handing the scentry the letter which holds his father’s elegant, yet rough handwriting. The scentry before him arches an eyebrow suspiciously at the letter first before up at Laurens.

“I come as a volunteer to His Excellency General Washington,” Laurens informs them as the man props the rifle in the crook of his arm as he begins to unseal the letter to verify. Laurens furrows his brows, clenching his jaw as his eyes roam over the man before him. Laurens swallows and sits himself taller. “Recommended by my father, Henry Laurens.”

“Ah, ha! Yes!” the man gasps as he pulls out the letter and began to unfold it. “Henry Laurens, the president of Congress, eh? And you must be his son? Hm?” Laurnes watches the man’s eyes skim over the letter.

“Yes,” Laurens replies politely. “That I am.”

“Huh,” the man grunts, though it sounds more like a scoff. He refolds the letter back in and hands it back to Laurens. “Ride straight.”

“And how will I know it is His Excellency?” Laurens wonders.

The two men at the front before him exchange a smart-looking glance at each other before turning back to Laurens. Laurens frowns when the two before him grins, the corners of their lips quirking up higher than normal. He furrows his brows together, feeling as though he missed something. Laurens' light blue eyes skim the two scentries features, in hopes to find answers in their faces, but he sees none. Laurens clenches his jaw and clears his throat.

"Oh, you would know it," the scentry on the right says. He winks up at Laurens, causing Laurens' pale cheeks to turn a light shade of pink. "Largest of the lot."

Laurens sets his mouth firm. "Speak plainly sirs."

"Ride straight," the scentry on the left simply says, gesturing with his chin towards the left over his shoulder, down the narrow pathway.

Laurens swallows the lump down his throat and nods once, clutching onto his black tricorn as he tips his head down. The scentries nod back at him, watching the tall, muscular blonde man gather his reigns and snap them, urging the horse to gallop faster.

Once Laurens approaches the encampment, Laurens' slowls his horse to a moderate pace again, trying to keep his focus on the path ahead of him, but can't help but let his eyes slide to their peripherals. He sees men chopping wood into smaller logs, tossing them into the fire. He sees men just wandering about, chatting softly about God knows what. Laurens' takes in the scenery, tents lined up on either side of him, some men crowd them, sitting on logs and taking huge gulps from their canteens before screwing the caps back on and wiping the remaining drips of water from the edge of their mouth wiht the back of their Continental sleeve.

Laurens straightens his posture when he notices men eyeing him suspiciously, their heads following the horse's movements as he passes them slowly. Laurens swallows hard and tightens his grip around the reigns harder and sits himself taller than he should bem his chest puffing out as he does so.

Though, something ahead of him catches his keen eyes. Laurens stops his horse for a moment, a few feet ahead of what he'd assume to be General Washington's tent. It is quite larger of the lot, perhaps a foot taller than the others lined up beside it. Laurens swallows the nervous lump he feels in his throat, the reigns fidgeting in his grasp. He keeps his eyes on the tent itself rather than the guards standing before it on either side of the entrance.

"Halt!" one of the guards snaps suddenly, causing Laurens to zone out of his trance. Laurens clears his throat and glances down at the young Private before him, the man's hands on the horse to stop him. Laurens presses his lips together. "State your name and business here."

Right, of course, Laurens thinks. He breathes in deeply and holds his breath in place, keeping his eyes firmly on the young man, who can't happen to be no older than twenty, before him.

"John Laurens. I come here as...a volunteer to His Excellency, General Washington," Laurens explains. "I have a letter recieving this news."

The Private yanks the letter from Laurens' hands and unseals the parchment, folding it out before him. Laurens watches those deep emerald green eyes skim the parchment before ticking them back up towards Laurens himself. Laurens raises one eyebrow at the man before him before the Private finally folds the letter and hands it back to him, pulling the flap open to allow Laurens through.

Laurens swings his legs off his horse, handing the reigns to a nearby servant and dusts himself off. He marches three steps towards the entrance before stopping himself. He feels his brows furrow. Does he really want to do this?

Yes, Laurens thinks to himself and breathing in deeply, yanks off his black tricorn and tucks it underneath his arm, smoothing out any blonde strands of hair that have escaped from his powdered wig. Laurens licks his chapped lips, letting his eyes slip close once, gathering his thoughts and curls his fingers into his palm to hide the shaking he feels. He has never met the General in person before, and even though the General is shown and praised of his military bravery and strong command, Laurens couldn't help but still view him as a daunting figure.

Laurens opens his eyes once more and takes the two remaining steps into the tent and lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. In his peripheral, Laurens could see the flaps of the tent flapping behind him with a soft whoosh before turning his attention back towards the main room.

He sees what appears to be a black box in the far back, center of the room with two large rectangular tables on either side covered by green cloth, parchment scattered all over and so are quills. Some wooden chairs are yanked back but never have been pushed back into their places. It isn't until Laurens turns his head from the left to the right does he become still.

There, before him, stands a man taller than he himself with...auburn hair to Laurens' surprise, not the Irish red he'd grown familiar with over his months in Geneva but a bit darker. Laurens notices the man's eyes are blue as well, but they have a mix of gray to the blue irises. The man before him hovers over the table, his hand rested on a spread out map and he constantly glances back up and back down between the map and the other man Laurens' is just now noticing. Both men before him argue for some time before the second man standing across the table clears his throat and juts his chin towards Laurens' direction, his eyebrows raised high at what Laurens must assume to be is His Excellency General Washington.

"Ah," the General's voice suddenly barks, slicing through the tense air between the three of them in the room. He nods curtly once his eyes lands on Laurens' and extends his hand out towards him. "Mr. Laurens. A pleasure to have you among my staff."

"I thank you, sir," Laurens says hasitly, yanking off the glove covering over his hands and shoving them underneath his arm, returning the General's shake. "My father has spoken highly of you."

General Washington's lips purse into a tight smile and nods again, releasing his hand from Laurens' and returning his attention back towards the map, now shuffling through a handful of documents nearby. "Hm. I would have assumed so. He has also spoken highly of you."

Laurens tries not to roll his eyes at this statement. Of course, he did.

"Might I introduce you to my fellow aide and seceratary," the General says smoothly, his voice monotone and flat but sharp as well. He gestures towards the second man across from him, who bows in Laurens' direction respectfully. Lauerns returns the bow.

"Robert Hanson Harrison," Washington confirms.

Harrison reaches forward, grunting as he does so, and gives Laurens a firm shake. "A pleasure."

"Mine as well," Laurens says just as quickly.

"And our newest arrival," Washington says, breaking the moment of silence between them. Laurens jolts in his place, startled at the third man in the room he now just notices. The man can't be older than his early thirties, perhaps up to his mid. With his hair powdered, it's hard to tell which exact color the man's should be. He has a rather baby-ish face, Laurens' notices, with hazel-golden eyes that seem to sparkle against the sunlight shining through. Laurens instantly knows he is French before he may even speak. "Major General Marquis de Lafayette."

The Marquis bows respectfully towards Laurens before Laurens, swallowing the lump in his throat, bows in return.

"Ah, tu es Mounsuire Laurens!" Lafayette says, his eyes widening in hopes Laurens could speak the same langauge and fear he may not understand a word the Marquis had just said.

Laurens smiles softly. "Que je suis en effet"

At this, Lafayette smiles wide and his face lights up as bright as the sun, making Laurens' heart beat faster than before. "Ah ha!"

"I will have Colonel Hamilton take you to your tent," the General says, a small smile upon his face towards the Marquis' happiness. Laurens turns to him, his seriousness returning instantly. "I am sure you are needed for rest after your long journey here."

Laurens finally takes off his black tricorn hat he just realized was still upon his head, shoving it underneath his arm. "Sir, if there's anything you'd like me too--"

"Nonsense!" General Washington gasps, flicking a hand towards Laurens in dismissal. "You are in need of rest, Mr. Laurens. It is written clearly on your face."

Laurens pinches his lips together and swallows hard, his cheeks feeling unusually warm.

"While Colonel Hamilton is guiding you to your tent, I will be taking the Marquis on the tour of the camp myself with Tilghman as my translator," the General explains.

Laurens could only nod.

"Is this our new aide?" a new voice interrupts the silence between them.

Laurens could feel all the tension shift towards the new intruder. Laurens furrows brows together, a small crease forming in his forehead and with mere curiosity turns his head as well towards the intruder.

Which is something Laurens regrets instantly.

He feels his breath hitch and he holds his breath in place. Laurens' eyes widen at the man before him. He's a tad shorter than Laurens, shorter than the rest of the men before him. His waist has an unusal curve to it, his chest puffed out and proud, his face beaming with pride. The man before Laurens smiles brightly, filling Laurens' whole body with a strange warmth. Laurens swears he could feel his heart stop beating momentarily. Laurens tilts his head for a moment, gazing up at the man's bright red hair--red that seemed to mix with either orange or gold, not brown like the General's. Much lighter. Lauerns squints, noticing light orange spots over the man's cheeks. He realizes then that they're freckles.

But what catches Laurens' eyes the most, what entrances him, what draws him closer to this man, pulls him forward...

Are his eyes.

The man's eyes are a deep blue. Almost like the ocean. But Laurens also notices a flicker of violet in his irises.

Laurens clenches his jaw.

Violet...

Laurens, however, thinks they are beautiful.

"...Of my aide," General Washington says, the ringing in Laurens' ears finally fading away. "Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton."

Hamilton beams up at Laurens, looking at him expectantly Laurens thinks.

Instinct taking over, Laurens bows respectfully before Hamilton, one arm clasped behind his back while the other extends towards him. Hamilton frowns with confusion, glancing at the others who merely shrug in return, before returning back towards Laurens. Laurens grins slightly as he takes Hamilton's small hand in his slightly larger one and brings Hamilton's hand up to his lips.

"John Laurens, of South Carolina," Laurens explains to Hamilton as he slowly, inch by inch, brings Hamilton's hand closer to his lips. "It is my honor to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel."

Laurens lets his eyes slip close and presses his lips gently onto Hamilton's knuckles. Hamilton presses his lips together tightly to supress the small squeak that escapes him. He stares at Laurens wide-eyed, his freckled cheeks a dark shade of pink. Laurens chuckles at Hamilton's shocked expression.

"I--" Hamilton begins, but for once, struggles to form words as he lowers his arm back down once Laurens releases his hand. "I um..."

Laurens frowns, worried that he made the wrong impression. He can't dare to look towards the General for confirmation, but keeps his eyes focused on Hamilton's.

Hamilton clears his throat, looking somewhat frantic. "Um...If you'd...a pleasure, sir, but if...if you'd...if you'd excuse me--" Hamilton squeaks before spinning around on his heels and bolts through the tent, Lafayette chasing after him.

It's silent a moment around the room. He can feel the General's and Harrison's eyes upon him and swallows hard, shifting uncomfortably on his feet back and forth.

"I um...I had made the wrong impression...hadn't I?" Laurens prompts, breaking the tense silence.

"That, my good sir, you have," Harrison says in a tut-tut voice, waving his feathered quill before chuckling to himself. "I wouldn't be surprised if Hamilton begins to talk nonstop about you and sigh dreamily all the next day."

Laurens opens his mouth to say something towards Harrison, but promptly clicks it shut.

"Yes, quite indeed," Harrison continues, making his way around the table to face Laurens. "Hamilton is and can be quite vulnerable. He's easy to win over. You shall see Meade attempting to flirt with him in a moment."

"I--"

"Anyways," the General says, causing the two men to quickly come to attention. But the General has a small smile on his stoned-face. "You are to rest instantly once Hamilton has...recovered...and return while I give the Marquis a tour." He tips his head, causing Laurens to do the same. "Good day."

"Good day," Laurens whispers as he bows.

"I deeply apologize," Hamilton's voice suddenly says as he reappears before him. Laurens blinks, startled and glances down at Hamilton before him. "That was rude of me...to run out like that..."

Laurens smiles softly. "You have nothing to apologize for, Colonel Hamilton. It was my doing. My Southern gentleman habits have gotten the best of me." A pause. Laurens lifts a shoulder as he scratches against the back of his neck. "And. let's be honest, you do resememble a woman almost."

Hamilton ducks his chin towars his chest. "I do?"

"Yes, I hope that doesn't offend you--" Laurens tries.

"Nonsense!" Hamilton says. "Let's...Let's start over."

Hamilton grins, glancing up at Laurens expectantly and extending his hand out towards him, his hand face down. Laurens chuckles lightly as he brings Hamilton's small hand up towards his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of Hamilton's hand.

"John Laurens, of South Carolina," Laurens repeats. "A pleasure to meet your aquaintence, Colonel Hamilton."

Hamilton smiles as he lowers his hand and nods. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Laurens. Oh, and please. Call me...Alexander."

Laurens grins, the corners of his lips turning upward.

"Then...you may call me...John..."

A breathy pause.

"At your service..."

[tokisguitarpick]

drunken skunk

Characters: Toki Wartooth x Reader

Words: 2500+ holy FUCK 

A/N: hey i written in uhh 1000 years and i just binged metalocolypse on hbomax which apparently unlocked something in me. this fic takes place immediately following fertilityklok because I’ve had a weird amount of experience talking to men who want but for some reason can’t/don’t have children and watching Toki worry about it gave me feelings i just wanted someone to kiss him and tell him he was okay:( so he turned down the woman in the ep, went home and fucked, wakes up and doesn’t actually feel that much better so drinking, smoking, not being understood by his bandmates, leads to going somewhere else to drink, and that’s where we are. i also like the idea that the band members have slutted around so often that even blitz drunk, they’d still be quick and nimble in the sack 

“Y/N, can you come to my office, please?” Charles’s voice came through your cell phone.

You had the phone pressed to your cheek, despite the spikes digging into your shoulder, as you pulled on a pair of socks. When you saw Charles calling you, it was almost always to request you come to his office for a task so it was second nature to get dressed when his name popped up. “Of course, sir.” His thanks were short before the line clicked off and you were left alone to finish getting ready.

_________

Scooting past a masked employees leaving Charles’s office, you stood in front of your boss and nodded when he met your eye over the documents on his desk. “Y/N, thank you for coming. We’ve got a small situation I’m hoping we can keep small.” Your brow furrowed as he picked up his phone and start swiping through it.

“What’s the matter, sir?” you asked.

Charles held up a finger, continuing to swipe until he finally clicked a button and a whaling voice suddenly filled the room.

“Whys is this happening to mes, iS AMS I UGLIES?! Ams I- Ma’am, MA’AMS, AMS I UGLI-“

The silence that followed Charles pausing the recording was deafening. “Um, was that-“

“Toki, yes,” Charles cut you off. “He’s currently at the Drunken Skunk and is living up to the name. I need you to go collect him as discreetly as possible.” As though that was all the information you needed, Charles began looking over the paperwork in front of him again.

You sighed quietly, you hated how little you got told about your tasks since they always spiraled into some kind of crazy mess when the members of Dethklok were involved, but Charles wasn’t one to question. “Yes, sir. Consider it done.”

You turned on your heel and began to head out but when your hand touched the doorknob, Charles spoke again. “Oh, and Y/N? Be careful. Toki has been sensitive since his birthday. Tread carefully.”

Brow furrowed again, you glanced back but Charles was already looking away, eyes on his documents. You wondered what he meant but as always, better not to question him. Stepping into the hallway, you let his office door swing shut behind you as you headed into the night.

___________

The Drunken Skunk was a dingy little bar on the edge of downtown whose usual crowd were streetwalkers and weary men, so it wasn’t crazy that Toki had decided to come here but as you drove closer and closer, you were surprised how dingy it in fact was. It was cheek to cheek with the industrial district, had an empty printing shop on one side, and a storefront covered in plywood on the other. You parked in front of the boarded-up shop and did a quick check on all sides for sketchy characters before you stepped out of the car.

The bar was choked with cigarette smoke, and the stench of stale alcohol and vomit. You frowned, standing in the door while you scanned the dirty room until your eyes fell on a heaving form slumped across the bar. Toki.

His long hair was draped over his shoulders and hung down his back, quivering slightly with each heave. It seemed like he was crying, his head buried in his arms. “AMS I UGLIES?” rang in your ears again and your frown softened. You weren’t sure what had happened, but you had noticed he’d been… off since his birthday.

You had thought it was related to the fake kidnapping that kicked off the party- a horrific and idiotic idea you had spoken out against and were immediately told by Nathan not to be a bitch about- but even that wouldn’t lead to the question of if he was ugly. Would it? The Dethklok members were strange. Five lives full of tragedy and unprocessed trauma all packed into the most popular band in the world made for an uneasy balance in the workplace and living quarters. You were skilled at navigating it when you had to clear up the messes, but you were hardly ever around for the inciting event so it was always tricky to understand how it all connected. 

You approached cautiously and made sure to make a little noise so you wouldn’t spook him. If he heard you, he showed no reaction, so you perched on the bar stool beside him. “Hey, Toki?”

The guitarist lifted his head finally and his red rimmed eyes were bleary when they met yours. “Y/N? Whats is *hic* you doings heres?” His voice was hoarse and thick with tears, a few of which were clinging to his eyelashes and glittered in the dim light. It made his grey-blue eyes shine and your breath caught in your throat. You had to admit, Toki was your favorite member of the band and it had little to do with his musical talent. You weren’t one for metal much anyway.

What drew you to Toki was first his appearance. Back when you were just applying for a position at the record company behind Dethklok, he’d caught your eye on the poster in the lobby. Long hair on men was something of a turn-on and his piercing gaze struck a chord inside you. His angular face and extremely fit build made him one of the hottest members in your opinion but on top of all of that, he was a sweetheart. That wasn’t written on the poster, of course, it was something you’d discovered about a week after you started when he was the only person besides Charles to take the time to learn your name and point your in the right direction. You wouldn’t say you were close but you had a causal friendship, just right for making light conversation during elevator rides and not much else.

“I’m here for you, Toki,” you replied, trying to master a tone that was both soft and cheery. “I came to take you home.”

“Takes me… No! I wants to stay heres. I-I-” His bottom lip started to quiver as he spoke but you put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, relax, Toki. It’s just late and I think it’d be good for us to get you into bed,” you gave him a small smile, trying to coax his drunken mind into listening to you. He might be slim but if he tried to fight you on leaving, you’d have your hands full. Maybe you should’ve asked for an escort…

Toki slumped on the bar again with a huff before sliding off his stool towards you, prompting you to hop up quickly to catch him as he stumbled to his feet. He was heavy with alcohol and leaning on you to keep steady, so trudging to the door became a task. Despite having at least half a foot on you, his face was nestling further and further in your hair until you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

You could feel your cheeks warming but it wasn’t until you got out the door, opened the back of the car, and loaded Toki halfway in that you really had a reason to blush.

“Y/N, ams I uglies?” Toki asked suddenly, looking up at you from under his lashes. He only had his butt on the edge of the car’s bench seat, looking at you with his face inches from yours, and fresh tears welling in his eyes.

Your eyes widened and your blush raged in full. Working around the object of your affection, even when that work was dragging him out of a shitty bar, was easy enough. Being asked directly about it by him was a whole other thing. Swallowing against the sudden knot in your throat, you decided to be honest and lightly shook your head. “No, Toki, not at-“

Anything and everything else you might be about to say was thrown out the window because the moment you said no, Toki launched forward. One hand on your hip, he lifted the other to your shoulder and pulled you to him lightening fast, his mouth finding yours with a squish. In his drunken state, he was a little sloppy at first but his skill began to show itself. His tongue traced the dip between your lips as he pulled you against his chest, your head fogging when he nipped your bottom lip. It was finally enough to coax your mouth open and Toki took full advantage of that fact, squeezing your hip as his other hand, warm and calloused, slipped around your neck and held you to him. Electricity jumped through you when his tongue met yours, twirling together for a moment before he moved on to exploring your mouth with a greedy moan.

“Wa-wait,” you mumbled around his lips. This was moving too fast, or maybe the fact it was happening at all was what was making you feel overwhelmed in the moment. It took everything in you to pull away, a solid percentage of your mind screaming at you to continue, to let Toki think he had control of the situation and see how far you could get with him. But you couldn’t. He was drunk and clearly something was bothering him enough to drink in the first place. You needed to just get him home. Plus if you did anything with Toki, you’d like for him to remember it, too. “Toki, wait.”

Your eyes met his just in time to watch his face crumple. The only way to describe his expression was pure heartbreak. The disappearance of his hands on your body made you miss the weight of them instantly but you hardly noticed, watching him melt right in front of you.

“I ams uglies, I knews it! I knews it!” Desperate and broken, his voice turned your stomach. His shaky hands found his hair and he began tugging on the ends, seemingly unaware of the motion. “No ones will loves me, I’ms hideous, I wills never find love! I wills never finds the mother ofs my childrens!”

While you had been paralyzed with bewilderment, his last sentence only compounded your confusion but brought you back into the moment enough to move again. Toki had cringed away from you, burying his face in the back of the passenger seat while still tugging on his hair, and you hurriedly heaved his long legs into the footwell before shutting the door and jogging around to the other side.

Even sealed in the car, you could hear his drunken crying. It twisted your heart but still, the mother of his children? Is that what he thought of you? Your blush burned your cheeks once more but you shook the thought off. He must’ve been crying about this when he left that voicemail for Charles. But what had happened?

Opening the back door on the other side, you slipped inside and snapped the door closed behind you. Toki seemed worse than before, now holding his face in his hands and heaving with small sobs. “Whats is it, Y/N? Whats makes me so uglies? I can change! I has monies, I can change!”

You furrowed your brows and put a hand on his arm, scooting closer to him. “Toki, you’re not ugly.” Quicker than you expected, his head snapped towards you.

“Then whys do you not likes to kiss me?” His lip started to quiver and you expected another outburst but his eyes stayed locked on you, expecting an answer.

Your mouth was dry and you scrambled for an answer that would keep him from crying again. How had you ended up here? Eyes darting around the car, you quickly mumbled, “I do, I liked the kiss! I jus-“

Once again, the Dethklok guitarist moved faster than you thought in his state. His hands found your face and pulled you up to him, putting you nose to nose with the lanky musician. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red from tears but it only exacerbated how bright his stormy irises were. You felt nervous and excited and tingly all over from being held so close and you hardly dared to breathe. Hypnotized by his gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. “Thens kiss me,” he murmured in a throaty voice. It made you shiver and lust began to haze your thoughts, the previous kiss still so fresh in your mind when his lips found yours again.

Slowly this time- painfully, delightfully slowly- Toki kissed you. His hands nearly covered the sides of your head as he held you in place, his lips closed while he kissed you once, twice, three times before deepening it. You let him without hesitation, heat coiling in your stomach. Of course, the thought of breaking the kiss occurred to you but with every motion of his, that thought got further and further away. Toki’s tongue slipped past your lips again and he gently stroked over yours as he made his way around your mouth. You returned the kiss with fervor, trying to match his speed to keep him close as long as possible.

One hand on top of his over your cheek, you let your other wander. His knee pressing into your thigh, then up the outside of his leg to rest on his hip and give it a squeeze. He moaned in your mouth and your body responded in kind, your own moan escaping as the heat in your belly moved south. When his free hand fisted in your hair and tugged, you wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Toki didn’t remember your hookup. Hell, maybe it would keep things from getting awkward at work?

Skwisgaar’s best guitar solo blared through the vehicle, interrupting your mental plan to get the man in front of you undressed. It was your phone, ringing out from your back pocket, and you knew without looking that it was Charles. He tended to check status on the jobs he gave people, especially when they went alone, as the Dethklok members seemed to have a way of making mountains out of molehills and then exploding the mountain into a bunch of fiery chunks raining from the sky.

Toki hadn’t stopped kissing you. If anything, he seemed more desperate, his hands falling to your shoulders and tugging at your shirt. But you straightened up and caught his large wrists to still him. Pulling away, your lips tingled and you had to blink a few times to gather yourself. “I have to get that, hang on.” Your voice was hoarse and you cleared it twice as you pulled the phone from your pocket and selected ‘Answer’. Toki huffed but he seemed much more relaxed compared to the last interruption, leaning back against the seat and putting his large hand on your thigh with his eyes closed.

“Hello?” you asked, still trying to steady your voice.

“Y/N, any updates?” Charles bluntly asked back.

You cleared your throat again and replied, “Everything’s going well, I just got Toki in the car,” the guitarist squeezed your leg at the sound of his name, “and we’re about to head back home.” The thought of leaving the back seat, of having to drive with the fruity taste of whatever he’d been drinking still on your tongue and the memory of his hands on you front and center in your mind, nearly made you groan aloud but you held yourself back.

“Good, good. Knew you could handle it.” *click*

Just like that, Charles had broken the heady mood and hung up in under a minute. You sighed, knowing what the right thing to do was and knowing exactly what you wanted to do instead. As if reading your thoughts, Toki spoke, “Wes don’t has to leaves yet, does we?”

“We does,” you replied playfully, trying to convince yourself of that fact. It wasn’t often that you wished for another job, one where you could be a groupie, act a little slutty, and turn one of your daydreams into a reality. But this was one of those times. However, people got fired- or killed- at work for less and you wouldn’t have even gotten into Dethklok if it weren’t for your job.

Toki sighed, squeezing your thigh again and holding it for a moment. Glancing at him, you’re eyes scanned his face thoroughly. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back on the headrest, giving you an eyeful of his neck and throat. He had the slightest stubble growing and as you watched, he gulped, making his Adam’s apple bounce. You wanted to remember this moment, every detail, as though that would make it last longer. While you were looking, he opened his eyes and caught yours.

“But you liked to kissing mes?” he asked, his voice more nervous than you’d heard all night. “You thinks I’ms is handsome?”

You hesitated before concluding the cat was fully out of the bag on this one and nodded. “I liked kissing you and I think you’re handsome, Toki. If you asked, I might even say you’re hot as fuck.”

Toki beamed at you, nudging you with his knee. He seemed too tired to move as fast as he was in the heat of the moment but he reached to put his hand on your hip and squeezed. “Okies, you cans drives us home. We is goings to my room,” you blushed but he continued without notice, “we cans talk, I ams asking you questions, it is ams dates.”

[ladymercysletters]

All Grown Up

Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count : 1637

Warnings: fluff, angst

A/N: Ok so this started out as a cute fluff piece about holding hands with Colin and it ended up being sad angst. And spoiler alert ... they don’t even hold hands !!! (I’m angry at myself)

+++

You had come to the Bridgerton household aged four. Your mother had been forced to take a position that wouldn’t allow you to stay most of the time, so – with Violet Bridgerton’s permission, your grandmother had perched you on the kitchen counter beside her as she cooked and baked for the family. You would offer help occasionally, handing her a spoon, or offering to lick it; but most of the time you would scurry around the other household staff as they moved trays and baskets of laundry around the lower levels of the house.

It had been a spring morning, the winter after you had arrived, when you had first met Colin Bridgerton. You had been in the kitchen, helping your grandmother make some scones for afternoon tea when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Assuming it was one of the maids or footmen you thought nothing of it, until you heard voices.

“Father, I’m hungry” came a little voice.

“I know Colin, and if you’re quiet enough we might be able to sneak some treats without cook noticing.” At this you and your grandmother shared a look - with a raised finger to the lips, she told you to be silent. Soon enough, the door to the kitchen creaked open and in slunk on tall figure, with a small boy on his shoulders. You and your grandmother stared at them as they entered, the look of shock on their faces at having been caught made you grin; and you were almost certain your grandmother had to stifle a giggle herself.

“Your Lordship” she curtsied lightly. The young boy on his shoulders stared at you both before waving at you.

“Mrs Y/L/N.” he said kindly, “sorry for the intrusion, but …”

“You were wondering if we might have some light refreshment for you both?” your grandmother finished.

“Yes.”

“Yes, Please. I’m ever so hungry.” Colin interrupted. His father scolded him lightly, lifting him from his shoulders and popping him on the floor.

“Well, luckily Master Colin, me and Y/N cooked up a fresh batch of buttered biscuits this morning, didn’t we?” she said, turning to you. You nodded, hopping off the counter to fetch the tray.

“Thank you, Y/N,” the Viscount said, picking a biscuit off of the tray. “Colin, what do we say?” he persisted when Colin nearly knocked the tray out of your hands with the force of himself.

“Thank you, Y/N.,” he smiled, biting into the sweet treat.

“You’re welcome, Colin.” You smiled back shyly.

Ever since that day, you and Colin had been fast friends. Well, fast in the sense that once Colin knew the way down to the kitchen’s himself everyone always knew where to find him. You enjoyed having a friend your own age. Your grandmother had never let you run out onto the lawn and play with the Bridgerton children; she always said that Lady Bridgerton had been so kind in letting you stay that she didn’t want you overstepping the mark. But now that Colin came down to visit, and sneak the odd cake into his pocket, you finally had someone to play with.

You and him could often be found on the bottom shelf of the pantry together with the odd, slightly burned, cake to share between you. He would help you with your reading, bringing you down books his governess had been teaching him to read from or ones he found particularly interesting, and in return you showed him the wonders of getting to lick the spoon that had mixed the batter. Together you grew up, when he wasn’t playing with his own siblings he would sneak down and play hide and seek with you. You looked forward to every day the Bridgerton’s were in residence at Aubrey Hall.

It was only when you were eleven years old, the summer of 1803 to be precise, that he came down rather gloomily one day and told you he would be going to Eton in the autumn, joining his brother at the school.

“I’ll miss you.” you said suddenly after a long silence. Colin looked up at you and smiled.

“I’ll miss you too. It won’t be all bad I suppose, Benedict will still be there and I’ll come home every holiday.”

“I am sure grandma will have your favourite biscuits ready and waiting for your arrival.” You finished, letting him be called outside by his sister Daphne, but not before he pressed a small kiss, quite unsuspectingly, on your cheek.

That night you wept a little as you went to bed. You really would miss Colin. It’s not like his other siblings hadn’t joined him occasionally in the kitchens, and come down themselves on occasion, but Colin was different. And three days later the whole house wept. The master had died suddenly one day after collapsing the garden. Everyone had heard the Viscountess shriek and you had ducked into the corner of the kitchen as maids ran about frantically to help, filling pales of warm water to be brought upstairs and footmen, donning riding gear to chase into town for a doctor. It was only that evening that your grandma had told you the Viscount had passed away.

The rest of the summer seemed to go by in a flash and a snails pace all at once. Soon September was here and you watched from the high kitchen windows as Colin set off for Eton with Benedict, Anthony going with them to settle his younger brother into his new home. The house seemed oddly quiet after that; even after Lady Bridgerton had given birth to her daughter, it seemed almost hollow.

A few years later and you had gotten used to the quiet. The family spent most of their time in town, and only came back for the odd weekend and Christmas. It was on an occasion such as this when your grandmother had turned to you and told you that, now you were sixteen and had been helping her and the maids care for the house whilst empty, Lady Bridgerton had offered you a position at her London home. At first you were scared, then thrilled, then neither. You would miss your grandmother, and the Kent countryside, but London sounded exciting, and you were happy to be staying with the Bridgertons. So, when the family departed back to London after Christmas, you joined the carriage of lady’s maids and indispensable household staff to join them.

You hadn’t seen much of Colin in the years since he left for Eton. When he returned, he rarely came down to the kitchens anymore, and when he did you were usually helping to tidy a room or retrieve vegetables from the kitchen garden. In truth you had only spied him from a distance or through an open door in passing.

When you had arrived in London, Lady Violet had given you a position as a housemaid, but given your literacy and aptitude for numbers thanks to your grandmothers cook books she would often ask you to help file her accounts for her and tidy the library into its correct order – one poor maid had previously put several books on palaeontology back with some fiction titles and a book on eastern religions: it had taken weeks to find them again.

As it was at the moment, Eloise had left books strewn around the house, and for the past half hour you had searched every room collecting them. You were just coming out of the breakfast room, books piled high in your arms when you tripped and braced yourself to fall face first into the floor. Or at least you would have, if you hadn’t knocked straight into Colin, falling into his open arms as he reached out to catch you.

With one hand around your waist and the other holding your outstretched arm, Colin slowly brought you back to a standing position.

“Whoa there” he chuckled, looking down at you. Bending to pick up the books, you felt Colin kneel beside you. As you pulled the books back into your arms you reached out for the one farthest away at the same moment that he did. Your hand brushed against his and you pulled back lightening fast at his touch. It was only at that moment, when his hand was in your line of vision, did you note how large his hand was compared to yours. Your eyes flitted up to his face as he handed the book back to you. His eyes were just as warm and friendly as when you had last looked into them. The crinkle at the side of his eyes had gotten deeper and, now you looked closer, his features had defined. He was more adult now, more manly. Your heart skipped a full beat when he smiled at you. “Y/N?”

You mind froze. You had forgotten your position for a moment and with his questioning tone you were brought back to reality. You mouth opened and closed for a moment, you wanted to call him Colin, as you one had. Your tongue formed the word in your mouth but your senses stopped it before it came out. “Mr. Bridgerton” you ducked your head in a form of curtsy, as you were still knelt on the floor. You gathered the last of the books quickly and stood to leave.

“Y/N!” He stood as quickly as you had, reaching out to grab your arm as you turned to leave. “It is Colin” he gestured to himself “do you not remember me?”

“Of course, Mr Bridgerton” you smiled warmly at him, bobbing once more before turning to head for the library. You bit your lip harder with every step you took. He had grown up, you both had. But you were a maid, and he was a gentleman.

[stiltonbasket]

If you’re still taking prompts, how does our favorite gossip king NHS find out about QS!WWX?

Nie Huaisang has been having a very strange week.

First, he was summoned to the Cloud Recesses and ordered to leave Nie Zonghui in the Unclean Realm, even though his brother was already in Gusu to spend a week with his husband and children. And secondly, when he actually arrived, there was no one waiting for him at the gates: no smiling brother-in-law, no placid, unsmiling Lan Wangji, and certainly no Da-ge, who was apparently busy elsewhere.

And thirdly, when he did see his brother, Nie Mingjue stuffed his two youngest children into Nie Huaisang’s arms and told him to keep them out of trouble.

“Excuse me?” Nie Huaisang gasps, trying to hold the twins still. “Did you make me come here all by myself to babysit?”

“Yes,” his Da-ge says dryly. “No one else can watch them just now. A-Hua, A-Hai, be good for your shushu, all right?”

“Why?” Nie Yunhua wonders. “I don’t want to.”

Nie Huaisang knows he shouldn’t be sympathizing with her, but his niece has a good point. “Why can’t their jiujiu watch them?” he protests. “Or Lan-xiansheng?”

His brother’s mouth twists into a grimace. “Wangji is...occupied,” he says, through gritted teeth. “Lan-xiansheng is handling Xichen’s work, and Xichen--A-Huan is unwell. I am looking after him.”

“Xichen-gege’s ill?” Nie Huaisang gapes. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“He keeps crying all the time,” Yunhai pipes up. “And he didn’t make sweet buns yesterday! And jiujiu’s always--”

Nie Mingjue covers his son’s mouth. “Will you do it, A-Sang?” he says, a trifle desperately. “Something’s happened. Please.”

Thoroughly bewildered, Nie Huaisang nods and leads A-Hua and A-Hai away from the hanshi, puzzling over what could possibly have troubled Lan Xichen enough to drive him to tears. His brother-in-law has nerves of iron, both as a consequence of having survived the Sunshot Campaign and becoming father to five children who were single-handedly responsible for another seven hundred and fifty-two rules being carved onto the wall of sect precepts, and the idea of something making Lan Xichen sick is absolutely terrifying, even if Nie Huaisang doesn’t know what it could be.

“Where’s your jiujiu?” he asks, knowing that his older three nieces and nephew will be attending lectures at this hour. “Is he at home? Let’s go find him.”

“He’s in the jingshi,” Nie Yunhua informs him. “And A-Die said we can’t go there!”

“Well, he didn’t tell me that,” Nie Huaisang mutters. “He’d better have a good reason why he can’t take care of you two sprouts, since your baba called me all the way from Qinghe. Now, which one of you wants to ride on my back?”

The answer turns out to be both of them, so Nie Huaisang sets off for Lan Wangji’s cottage with A-Hua and A-Hai perched on his shoulders and frowns when he finds jingshi empty. Lan Wangji usually prefers to work in solitude rather than frequenting the library pavilions when the disciples are there studying, so he should be here during the day, unless--

“Of course!” he realizes. “He must be in the rabbit field. Let’s go check there.”

The twins chatter his ears off all the way to the rabbit field, and Nie Huaisang nearly cries out in relief when he spots a pale-robed cultivator kneeling in the grass with countless white fluffballs piled up around him; but then Yunhua squeals, and Nie Yunhai slaps his hands over his eyes, and Nie Huaisang freezes on the spot as he takes in the bizarre picture in front of him.

The white-robed cultivator is Lan Wangji, as Nie Huaisang thought at first glance; but there’s someone else sitting in the flowery field beside him, someone with warm, soft curves draped over with a pretty blue ruqun, and Lan Wangji’s hands are tangled in the person’s hair, and--

He’s also kissing the woman in his arms for dear life, but Nie Huaisang’s heart will probably give out if he thinks about that for very long.

“Jiujiu!” A-Hai calls, stamping his tiny feet until the young woman breaks away from Lan Wangji with a gasp. “Stop kissing Aunt Su! It’s gross!”

Nie Huaisang stares.

The woman is Qin Su. Slimmer than he remembers, certainly, and more muscled and suntanned, but Nie Huaisang never forgets a face; especially not when it belongs to San-ge’s wife, whom he hasn’t gone more than a month without seeing since before she married Jin Guangyao...

...until about ten weeks ago, when Jin Guangyao said Qin Su would be taking an extended holiday with her father.

So what is Su-jie doing here, kissing Lan Wangji!?

“Adultery is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” he pants at last, having nothing better to say. “Lan-xiong, you--Jin-furen--”

And then he passes out.

[arclundarchivist]

Home, Again.

(Spoilers from Campaign 2 Episode 141, it has been a lovely ride, and I will admit, this mostly going to be me getting a bit into my own personal fantasy, but I hope it is enjoyed.)

Caleb, a little grayer in his hair, stands on the beach staring out into the ocean, a wide smile on his face as he turns and sees several small forms racing about, clashing fake swords, delving into the water cautiously, or just doing what children are want to do. Veth's little "camp" had picked up steam, numerous children from across the breadth of Nicodranus coming to learn how to be, well, how to play at being adventurers. He'd managed to take a bit of time off from the academy, nervous still about the prospect but...he'd been drawn away for an excellent reason.

His family.

Nine years had passed since their battle in Cognouza. Nine years since they had become the unsung, though oft whispered. heroes of all of Exandria.

He'd seen them all from time to time across the years, coming together for birthdays and moments of joy and surprise, but now, was a time for true celebration.

He turns and spots Veth and Yeza, standing shoulder to shoulder nearby, watching the waves roll in, hunting perhaps like he was, for the behemoth that was the Nine Heroez to pull into port. On Veth's hip is a little girl, with a mane of curled, wild hair much like her father with a deeper skin tone like her mother: Molly.

Veth turns and looks up at him, "Do you seem anything?"

"Not yet, but they'll be here. I can't imagine they'd miss this for the world." Caleb responds, squeezing her shoulder before reaching down, letting the gently cooing Molly take his finger and squeeze.

He turns and looks back, spotting several other figures arrayed across the beach that he had reached out to in the planning of this event.

Shakaste is perched on a rock, telling a soothing story to an enraptured crowd of kids, which included Luc, and to his amusement Twiggy, who had arrived at the party seemingly out of the blue.

Running towards him, chased by her youngest adoptive siblings is Kiri. Veth invited her family to partake of Nicodranus and allow the kids a bit of fun during the summer months.

Kiri skids to a halt kicking up sand, standing almost to his chest now, several makeshift bandoleers and her collection of tinkered baubles resting on her chest and along her belt. She smiles up at him widely, chirping excitedly.

"Come on! Beau, Yasha! She's probably a good egg!" Kiri warbles, mimicking several voices she'd heard, tugging on his and Veth's hands.

Laughing, Veth passes Molly to her husband, and the pair allow Kiri to drag them all the way to the edge of the beach, where Beau and Yasha are approaching. They both look a bit older but more at peace, Yasha dressed in dark but less severe clothing, hints of Dynasty garb on the both of them. He also notices two figures walking a step behind them, looking a bit shy.

"I missed you!" Kiri crows, darting for the pair and hugging tight to their legs.

"Hey, Kiri," Beau says with a soft smile.

"Hello, Little Bird," Yasha says, giving Kiri a head scritch.

She coos cheerfully before darting back up onto her perch and scanning for signs of the others.

Beau looks at Caleb and wraps him in a tight hug, "Hey, Professor."

"Expositor," Caleb mutters, wrapping his arms around her and then doing the same to Yasha, who practically picks him up off his feet.

Beau kneels and hugs Veth, whispering, "Chaos Crew!"

"Almost." Veth states, "Hopefully, she'll be here soon."

Caleb looks past his dear friends and blinks in surprise as he spots Beauregard's Mother and younger brother TJ.

"Oh, uh, hello, thank you for coming." Caleb mutters, rubbing the back of his head, "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Caleb Widoghast."

Veth narrows her eyes slightly at Beau's mother: "Veth Brenatto."

"Clara, I do remember you," she remarks, nodding to them both briefly.

"Good, because I-" Veth begins only for Beau to place a hand on her shoulder.

"Down, Veth," Beau remarks, earning a chuckle from Yasha.

"Fine," she remarks, still giving Beau's mother a bit of a stink eye.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. There is some food and drink nearby, and blankets to spread out as you wish," Caleb states.

"Thank you," Clara says, turning to leave the four of them while TJ hangs back next to his sister, looking up at her uncertainly.

"Go have fun." Beau says, pointing to Luc and Kiri, "Those are the other kids I was telling you about, just don't get into too much trouble, okay?"

TJ gives her a shy grin, "No promises."

And then runs off, Caleb noticing the small sticks that he wears across his back.

"A chip off the old block, eh?" Caleb asks as Beau throws an arm around him.

"Not exactly, way more shy!" Beau states, looping her arm around Yasha's as Veth grabs his hand, "Four of the Nine, any words on the others?"

"Not yet, but they'll come," Caleb says.

"Good, I brought you all flowers from our garden." Yasha states, holding up a new book, filled to the brim with dried flowers, "You both look very good."

Veth smiles: "I'm with my family, and even more are on the way; I'm wonderful."

Caleb nods: "It will be good to see everyone again."

"Speaking of everyone," Beau states, unlooping her arms from her partner and friend, "Yo, Shakaste! I think it's past time you and I compared notes on some things."

Shakaste turns from his story to Luc and the other kids, the former getting dragged away by Kiri for a conversation with TJ, while Twiggy looks around him and her face widens in a deep grin.

"I mean, I agree, but I thought this was gonna be a day of fun, not work?" Shakaste remarks with a knowing smirk.

"I can do both," Beau says with a shrug of her shoulders as she walks towards them.

"I have notes too!" Twiggy cries, darting towards Beau and beginning to ramble, while Yasha turns and walks towards Yeza, the pair beginning a softer conversation as Yasha, ever so gently gives her hand out for Molly to play with.

Caleb and Veth end up sitting shoulder to shoulder on the beach, waiting and watching as their friends and number of children mill about them and are deep in conversation, when the sound of a firework going off draws all of their attention.

There is a collective jump amongst the party, the more martial figures immediately going on the defensive, with Yasha pushing Yeza behind her only for it to be quickly revealed to be Kiri once more, tearing away from Luc and TJ, now shouting.

"Jester! Jester! I missed you!"

Not a moment later, Twiggy is peeling off as well, with Veth, Caleb, Beau, and Yasha at a more sedentary step behind as approaching them arm in arm is Fjord and Jester, wide smiles on their face, Nugget loping ahead of them and teleport tackling Luc, who falls with a laugh as the dog begins licking his face.

Behind them, walking arm and arm is The Gentleman and Marion, followed by Orly and Vandren, and next to them, to Caleb's surprise, is Caliana.

"Kiri!" Jester cries out, sliding to her knees and wrapping the young Kenku in the tightest hug and spinning her about, revealing the swaddled bundle on her back which giggles in surprise at the momentum.

"And Twiggy!" Jester cries, drawing the gnome into a tight hug as well before ping-ponging to her friend with deep, tearful hugs and cheek kisses, going from Veth to Yasha, to Beau, and then to Caleb.

"Veth, so, about the Detective Agency...I'm sorry that I've been so busy...but." Jester began as she hugs her.

"Don't worry, Jessie, I'm glad you're here," Veth says, hugging her tightly.

"Yasha, my god, you look so beautiful! I missed you so much!" Jester cries, running her fingers through flower-filled hair.

"Thank you, Jester, I missed you too." Yasha states with a soft smile as she looks down over Jester's shoulder into the teal face of a small Tiefling toddler, the hint of a tusk coming in on the left-hand side, "And this little joy."

She tickles the bottom of his chin, eliciting a laugh, a smile widening on her face: "Hi, Charlie."

"Beau!" Jester cries, pulling her into a bone-cracking hug.

"Hey, Cutie." Beau returns, hugging her back and patting her cheek.

Jester giggles and then turns to hug Caleb, a soft but deep embrace, "You look very happy, Caleb."

Caleb whispers back, "I am happy. So very, very happy."

Fjord walks up next, looking down at Veth: "Veth."

Veth looks up at him with narrowed eyes, "Fjord."

They stare at each other for a moment before wrapping each other in a hug, "You look good, Fjord."

"I feel it." he returns, "And so do you."

Yasha and Fjord clap hands together with a smile while Beau comes in on the other side and punches him playfully on the shoulder.

"You know neither of those hurt as much as they used to." Fjord states with a grin.

"Good, where's Kingsley?" Yasha asks.

"Well wouldn't you know it...the tricky bastard went off and made himself into a pirate." Fjord said with a laugh, "I...I don't know if he'll be here."

Yasha looks down a bit crestfallen, "Oh."

"This does mean, though, that I need my old first mate back if she has an inkling to come to sea, just for a bit." Fjord said with a slight smile, looking to Beau.

Beau smiles and shares a look at Yasha, who shrugs but smiles softly. "Maybe, maybe."

"Nice to see you again, Caleb," Fjord says, pulling him into a hug.

"Nice to see you too, Fjord," Caleb says.

"Gangs almost all here; it's been quite a while, hasn't it," Fjord says.

"It has." Caleb agrees as he watches Jester place her son into the arms of her mother and then scoops up Kiri and twirls around with a laugh.

"Mighty fine to see all of you again, ain't that right, Miss," Orly says, nodding to each of them and nudging Caliana.

"OH! Yes, of course. Hello, again, Mr. Caleb, Beau, Yasha," Caliana states, with a nervous bow before looking at Veth and opening her mouth a bit awkwardly.

"It's Veth; good to see you again, Miss." Veth says with a smile, "How have you been?"

"Well, I..." Caliana begins, blushing slightly, only for Jester to spin by interrupting.

"We found her when we stopped her in Port Demali! Kingsley did actually, and then we caught up, and Fjord managed to convince her to join our crew, and she has been very helpful with the magic things at times like you were Caleb, and sometimes she scares the living daylights out of people that try and steal from us!"

Calianna blushes deeper, "I don't mean to."

"She's a good crewmate, and a good friend, speaking of which." Fjord says, turning to the older man beside him, "Vandren, this is my family, not everyone, but most."

Vandren gives them all a once over, "Eclectic group. Makes sense. Nice to meet you. Any drink to be found?"

"Yes, right over there," Caleb says, pointing towards a large picnic table.

"Right, Orly, let's get to it," Vandren says, clapping Fjord on the shoulder and heading over, followed by The Gentleman, who gives each of them a respectful nod, kissing his daughter on the cheek as he passes.

Marion smiles at them all, "I'm glad to see you all healthy and hale. You've all had quite the journey."

The assembled Nein shared a look, "That we have."

Jester smirks and then speaks up, "Speaking of which..."

She enters into a tirade of her and Fjord's most recent adventurer's interrupted at times by Fjord and a more tentative Caliana, while the others listen, sitting down as the sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, Veth's students heading for home, leaving the children adjoined to the party alone to chase each other, play fight, and ride about on Nugget. Charlie spends much of the time in his Mother or Father's lap, occasionally being passed to Yasha, who at one point ends up holding him and Molly in a moment of what Caleb could only describe as awed bliss, as their respective parents got drawn away by something.

A while later, Luc turns to trying to entertain them, showing off the few cantrips he'd learned to the other kids, including the assembled Shusters, and TJ. Kiri makes a game of picking at him after a bit.

As he begins talking about how strong he will be, Kiri walks up and pokes her beak directly into his ear.

"Kiri! Don't embarrass me in front of my apprentices!" he cries with a bit of a blush as Kiri made a joking kissing sound, gesturing to Molly and Charlie who stared at the pair in the muddled, joyful confusion that is Toddlerhood as they rest on their respective parent's laps.

"I don't think a little peck is all that embarrassing." a low voice states, drawing the assembled Nein's attention to a tall figure, his staff glowing a low pink, a wide smile on his face as Caduceus Clay approaches with several others in tow.

"Sorry, I'm late," Cad says, not even pausing as an elated Luc races for him and jumps into his arms, "I had a few friends to pick up."

Calliope waves, "I'm just his tagalong."

Behind her stands Nila and her son, Keg, quickly dashing out a cigarette and looking more than a little awkward, with Reani at her shoulder.

"Hello again," Nila states with a soft smile as the other curious youngsters readily approach her son.

"Long time no see, heard y'all did some really good work." Keg states with a smirk, sharing a look with Beau, walking over, and hugging Veth.

Reani darts over to Jester, wrapping her in a hug, then several of the others, cooing over the babies for a second before tackle-hugging Beau and then Caleb.

"Hey, Reani," Beau says, looking a little awkward but still happy to see her.

"Hey guys, also thank you, Caleb, for sending him my way."

"Him?" Caleb queries, a bit confused.

Clay walks up, hugging Fjord deeply, and then Jester and Yasha: "God, it's good to see you all again, but as I said, I had some friends to pick up."

And out of the shadows, melting into view with a soft yet nervous smile on his face, comes Essek Theylas.

"Hello everyone." he states, eliciting a few gasps and a tackle hug from Jester, "And let's just say Reani, and I have been working on...seeing all the colors and shades as it were."

He gives Beau a pointed nod.

Reani smiles, "He's a sweetheart."

Caleb gets to his feet, walking over to Essek with a cautious smile, "Welcome back to the Mighty Nein."

"Glad to be back...if just for a little while, it will be good, to..." he pauses, looking deeply into Caleb's eyes, "Take a bit more time with you."

As Jester lets him go, Essek slowly glides towards Caleb, and he feels their fingers intertwine, a soft smile growing on both their faces.

He turns and notices a few smirking faces amongst his friends, while the adjoining members are beginning to shuffle about and begin conversing, Reani and Twiggy hitting it off like an unending wildfire, while Keg mills about before choosing to sidle up to Caliana and begin asking her questions, Shakaste sits down next to Caduceus and begins to query him on how everything is going in his neck of the woods.

Fjord looks around at his family as several fires roar up around them. TJ, Kiri, Luc, the Schusters, and Asar are sitting around their own cooking marshmallows, watched by Clara, who has found herself the subject of affection for Nugget, his large head now splaying across her lap. Jester is sitting between Fjord and her Mother, Charlie asleep on her lap, head on her mother's shoulder, with her and Fjord holding hands. Beau is leaning against Yasha, next to Yeza, holding Molly while Veth sat between him and Caleb, with Esseek on his other side, their fingers just the faintest bit intertwined. A bit back from the fire, behind Fjord and Jester, Nila, Cad, and his sister are leaning forward, Cad's hand resting on Fjord's shoulder. Calianna sits next to Fjord, while Reani and Twiggy sit across the fire from Yasha and Beau. Vandren, The Gentleman, and Keg are deep in conversation at the nearby picnic table while Shakaste and Orly are seated between the Nein's fire and the kids, the former humming along as the latter plays some softer music.

"Gangs all here finally." Fjord remarks, "And on a beautiful night too."

"Well...almost all of them are here," Yasha states, somewhat sadly.

"No, everyone." a familiar voice states, as coming across the sands is Kingsley Tealeaf, with Marius in tow.

"Hi there, Angel, there was no way I was missing this party, especially since Joybuzzer reminded me every day about it," Kingsley states, kissing the top of Yasha's head as he walks by, doing the same to Jester and then clapping Fjord on the back and gently hugging Caliana as she scoots over.

"You too?" Essek asks with a knowing smile.

"So it would seem." Kingsley returns as Marius walks by, headed for Orly.

"Kill anyone yet?" Fjord calls out after him.

"No, Captain." Marius returns with a sheepish grin.

"Pity, good to see you still breathing, Lepual." Fjord states with a smirk.

"Likewise, Captain," Marius states, falling into a seat beside Orly.

Keg turns at the arrival of the newest figure and does a triple take before walking over and clunking to the ground next to Reani and staring at him.

"You...are making me extremely uncomfortable," Kingsley states with a smirk.

"Yeah...sorry, this is a little weird, honestly." as she turns to Beau, Veth, and Caleb, and mouthed, "Why didn't you warn me?!"

Beau blinks, "Sorry."

Kingsley chuckles, "Right, this is awkward, but I've got time to catch up with whatever that is and the rest of y'alls stories in a moment. Cause I need a fucking drink!"

He crows that with a laugh and a second later, he is mimicked by a surprised Kiri which is then picked up by Luc, who instead starts yelling: "Well, get a fucking drink then!"

He and Kiri begin to chant that back and forth turning it into a bit of a song, which Orly chuckles at and begins to play a bit of a jig, eliciting a few smirking laughs from the others, while Kingsley blanches a little bit.

"I feel like I'm a bad influence," Kingsley states as he stands up.

"Oh, we all are." Fjord agrees.

"Most of us." Cad amends with a smile.

Caleb chuckles, gripping Essek's hand a bit tighter as he smiles as well, listening to the chaos begin to pick up around him, as Kiri and Luc begin to dance around them, drawing others to join them as Orly begins to play in earnest, joined by Marius, as he draws a lute from his back. First Beau and Yasha, then Yeza and Veth holding Molly, then Fjord and Jester with their son between them, Marion and the Gentleman, Keg shrugs and begins tapping her foot while Twiggy begins dancing by herself, twirling in a flurry of spinning skirts, leaving Caliana, who is quickly offered a hand by Reani, taking it with a vibrant blush' Kingsley looks about before offering Cad a hand with a smirk, who shakes his head just looking about contently. Kingsley shrugs only for Calliope to vice grip his hand and twirls him away while Nila and her son are the last to stand up and dance, with TJ joining his older sister and her partner. Caleb shoots Essek a questioning look, who smiles and stands, resting his forehead against his silently, before in the moon and fire-light, missed by all but a cloaked green figure at the edge of the revelry their chins tip up towards each other into a soft, gentle kiss.

Caleb is glad to be home.

[castthy-nightedcolour]

One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse

Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they

Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.

Word Count: 2778

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182

If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:

-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.

-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.

All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.

Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.

The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.

‘Y/N? Is that you?’

You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.

You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’

You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.

He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.

Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.

In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.

Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.

‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.

‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’

‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’

You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.

‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’

Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.

‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.

‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.

‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.

‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.

‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.

‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.

The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.

‘Can I give you a lift?’

—

After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.

You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,

‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’

You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.

‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.

‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.

You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.

‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.

‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.

‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’

‘Snake.’

You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.

‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’

Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.

You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.

‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’

‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘

‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’

‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.

‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’

Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.

What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.

Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.

You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.

But it was so, so beautiful.

Moving.

And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.

Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.

Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.

There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.

The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.

You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.

‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’

The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.

You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?

Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.

There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.

‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.

The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’

Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.

Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.

‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘

He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.

‘Do it again. Turn back.’

The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.

‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’

The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.

‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’

You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.

And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...

Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.

The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.

‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.

Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.

‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.

Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.

‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’

Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.

‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.

This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.

And of course, he made you blush too.

A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.

[herherteartear]

will you be gone? | bonus : eighteen point five / brunch w Taehyung 

 — word count : 1491

 — a/n : my first ever written chapter!! how’d you like it? anything I could've done better? hope you enjoyed!

Your hands couldn’t stop shaking. Sure, you tried to play it off cool in front of your friends, but you were pissing your pants in nerves. The thought of meeting Taehyung after so long was terrifying. Your son, Myung-dae, seemed to notice the trouble you were having with the buttons on his sweater. His doe eyes blinked up at you.

“Do you need help, momma?” He asked. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You raised your hand to caress his cheek.

“No, baby, I’m okay.” You smiled. Finally getting a grip of yourself, you finished buttoning the three buttons on his sweater. You grinned proudly at your work (both your son and his outfit). Myung-dae ran off the second you were done. He threw himself onto the ground of your living room where his legos were scattered. You turned to glance at yourself in the mirror hung up.

You’ve changed a lot since Taehyung left. It was hard to adjust to abruptly becoming a single mother. It was hard to push away the fact that you had also become an ex-girlfriend too. Your broken heart and your anger was pushed to the side in order to focus on Myungie and to provide for him. At some point, it became too much. Your family and Jungkook stepped in to help. That became a turning point.

You were able to focus on yourself a little more without worrying about Myungie and his needs. Then you were finally able to feel the pain, the hurt, the anger. For a second, you really did hate Taehyung. How could he have left you with your son? How could he have left you? Thankfully, time truly does heal all wounds. As time went on, you found yourself thinking about him less, hating him less, and being happier with the little life you created for Myungie and yourself. You’d be lying if you said meeting Jimin and Seokjin didn’t help. They really helped. Seokjin helped.

Staring at the woman in front of you, you smiled.

“Does he still look the same?” “Does he have a matching mark on his arm, too?” “Will he carry me on his shoulders?” Myungie was full of questions the whole ride to the restaurant. You and Taehyung agreed to meet there in order to help Myungie feel more comfortable. With the car parked, you turned in your seat to face your son. His big, chocolate eyes never failed to warm your heart.

“You remember that?” Myungie had been so little when Taehyung left. You weren’t expecting him to remember anything about his dad, so the fact that he remembers the times his father would perch him on his broad shoulders, surprised you. Myungie played with his fingers.

“No, but I found a picture in your old room.” He mumbled. You bit your lip. After Taehyung left, you moved out of the room you two shared and into the guest room. You knew exactly which picture he was talking about.

“He does have the same two marks as you on his arm. Maybe you can ask him about it.” You said softly. You sent Taehyung a quick text to notify him of your arrival before getting yourself and Myungie out. You gripped your son’s hand in yours as you shut the car door.

“Daddy!” Myungie shouted. He let go of your hand to barrel into Taehyung’s arms. You spun around in shock to see an equally surprised Taehyung clutching your guys’ kid to his chest. Neither of you could stop the smile that spread over your faces.

“Hey, Myungie.” Taehyung mumbled into his son’s neck. He made eye contact with you. Both of you shared a small smile.

“So why’d you leave? Why come back now?” You cut right to the chase. After sitting down and ordering your food, Myung-dae had finally gotten over the high of seeing his dad. He now sat on Taehyung’s lap, fully immersed in your phone. Taehyung slightly choked on his sip of water. Myungie gave his dad a worried look before saying,

“Don’t choke.” You stifled your laughter at your son’s bluntness.

“Thanks, bud. Um, wow, getting right to it, huh?” He forced out a chuckle. You shrugged.

“I’ve waited long enough, haven’t I?” Your eyes suddenly seemed very interested by the table you were sat at. Taehyung reached over to grab your hand.

“You have.” He said in his deep voice that once made you go wild. Now, not so much. You pulled your hand out of his grasp. Taehyung cleared his throat before beginning his story. “I never told you this, but when we found out you were pregnant, I was planning on proposing. I decided not to because I didn’t want to add any more pressure on you; I figured I’d just do it after he was born.” Taehyung gently held one of Myungie’s hands. He was going to propose? You felt the air being knocked out of you. “Except, once Myungie was born, everything changed. I realized all the plans we had, we wouldn’t be able to do them anymore.”

“What? What are you talking about? Myungie could’ve come with us! Wouldn’t that have made it that much more special?” You cut in, now getting irritated. You couldn’t believe Taehyung had even felt that way. The moment Myung-Dae was born, your life got so much brighter.

“Yes, of course! But, yn, I was so dumb back then. I was dumb and selfish. I wasn’t ready to be a dad.” He sighed. Before you could even open your mouth, he said, “And I know you weren’t ready to be a mom. But you adapted better than I did. None of it felt right to me, the whole being a parent. I hated myself for feeling that way, but I couldn’t help it, y’know? Anyways, I guess my peabrain came up with leaving as a solution and, well, I did.”

Your eyes maintained on the table. The wood was slowly chipping off of the edges, but the middle still looked in wonderful shape. A part of you had known Taehyung left because he wasn’t ready so you’re not surprised. You wished he would have talked to you about it, though. You sighed. The past was in the past now. Everything happens for a reason, unfortunately.

“I know what I did was wrong. I know I should’ve come back the second I left, but I didn’t. I can’t apologize enough. But you need to know I am truly, deeply, sorry. Yn, I’ve grown from who I was. I’m here now to fix my mistake and to raise our son. Together.” Taehyung held your gaze. If there was something that never changed about Taehyung, it would be his sincerity.

“It’s been such a long time, Tae. I wish I could be angry and yell at you for leaving us, but I can’t. I know you. I know you want to fix this and I would love to raise our son together.” You felt a weight lifted from your chest. You had been living for years with baggage, that clearing this up with Taehyung, made you feel physically lighter. You cleared your throat and sat a little straighter. “But what we had, that’s gone now. I’m doing this for Myungie, not to get my ex-boyfriend back.” Taehyung didn’t lose his composure. His lips turned into a teasing smile.

“So who’s the guy?” He joked. You knew it was a joke. Taehyung was always like this, but there was a guy.

“Why does there have to be a guy in order for me not to want you back?” You squint your eyes at him. This only seemed to further his fun, as a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. You shifted.

“I was kidding, but judging by your reaction, there’s definitely a guy.” He smiled lightheartedly. You ran your eyes over his face. “Why are you analyzing me?”

“Because of the way you’ve been texting me! I thought you wanted to date again or something.” You grumbled. Had you misunderstood all his texts? There was no way! They were totally flirty!

“Y’know, when I talked to my parents about being ready, they were so excited to hear we were going to work it out. Be a family.” Taehyung laughed breathlessly. “I know I was being pushy. I just— I had to, for my parents. But I won’t force you into anything. That’d be a dick move and I would never do that.” Taehyung reassured you. You smiled. Once again, his sincerity was always unwavering.

“Daddy! Look, momma said you had these marks too!” Myungie pinched his arm fat together to make an elephant out of the two moles on his arm. Taehyung’s face burst into a boxy grin. You glanced down at your phone to see a text from Jin. Your heart skipped a beat against your will. You’d handle one issue at a time.

ceo!seokjin x singlemom!reader

masterlist

taglist : @reckless-living-optimist @overtherainbow35 @whitepinkish @beeeb05 @preciouschimine @exfolitae @lidda @ramyagovindraj @taegijns @undermyfigtree @8sjaf @samros95 @wineandionysus @casspirit0705 @littlewolfieposts @bunnykookcinnabun @nochujeonjk @unicornbabylover @betysotelo18 @minhee-tae @rjsmochii @illwritetomorrow @xserendipityx @ohmy-fandoms @lilacdreams-00 @rlynotme @taetaeworldd

[queenmagnusao3]

AO3 Link (COMPLETE)

Lin had been in a bad mood all week.

Kya was leaving in a few days for the South Pole and she’d be gone for a whole month. She wasn’t upset with Kya, they had discussed the expectations of their relationship at length and Lin had said she was okay with the reality that Kya was going to have to be away for various periods of time.

But it didn’t mean she had to like it.                              

She was always in a foul mood right before Kya left… and while she was gone. She tried not to bring it to work with her but it was hard not to. She’d chew out some poor, unsuspecting subordinate before holing herself up in her office. She saw the knowing looks that passed between the select few who were a part of her inner circle.

It had been Mako who had made the connection between her bad moods and Kya’s trips away from the city. He had mentioned it to Saikhan who had grown a pair and said something to Lin directly. He had left her office pretty quickly, nobody speaking of it again.

But they knew. And she was honestly glad they knew.

Any friendly chatter in the bullpen died as she walked through the desks to her office, closing the door behind her without a word. She was halfway to her desk when her phone rang and she cursed loudly, crossing to the desk and yanking the phone up to her ear.

“What?!”

“Well that’s not a very friendly greeting.”

Lin relaxed a bit at the sound of Kya’s voice.

“I’m sorry. What is it?”

“I know how upset you are that I’m leaving for so long-“

“I’m not upset. I want you to go.”

Lin winced. That didn’t come out the way she meant it.

 “Just let me finish Lin. Tenzin and Pema have some event tonight and they asked if I would keep an eye on the kids. And I was wondering if you would join me.”

“Kya, I”

 “This will be one of our last nights together for a while. I know it’s not ideal but I just really want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

Oh, she was good. Most people had the wrong idea of Kya. She had somehow managed to give herself the image of being some wise and innocent master healer. But Lin knew better. Kya was much more complicated than that. And she had a rap sheet that put Su’s to shame. It wasn’t anything serious, mostly protests or defacing of property but Lin would wager most people didn’t know that about the master waterbender.

“That’s a low blow, Master Kya.”

 “I know, but it’s true. And I know the kids would love to see you. Please, Lin.”

She didn’t know when she had gone so soft but before she could comprehend how it happened, she found herself agreeing to babysit Tenzin’s kids and was actively helping Kya put the four of them to bed.

Lin slipped out of Rohan and Meelo’s room as Kya quietly followed behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

“What-“

Kya silenced her by covering her mouth with a warm hand, bringing her index finger to her own mouth in a shushing motion. She walked past Lin towards the main living area, waving for her to follow. Once they were in the kitchen Kya spent just a moment listening.

“I think we’re safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You always need to give it a few minutes of quiet before trusting the kids are actually asleep. If they hear anything that might indicate they’re missing out on something it’s all over and we’d have to start the nighttime routine all over again.”

Lin perched on the edge of one of the counters as Kya started clearing away dirty dishes. She watched as the waterbender made small movements with her hands, the water literally bending to her will as she made quick work of cleaning off the various bits of food stuck on them. Lin mused to herself that she wouldn’t mind cleaning so much if she could make the water do most of the work for her.

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids.”

Kya laughed and Lin felt her heartrate increase at how beautiful she looked when she smiled. She looked to Lin over a shoulder.

“Lin, I’m the oldest of three siblings. Spirits, I’m the oldest of all of you. Well, except Zumi. But she doesn’t count because she didn’t live in the city growing up. Listening to you all crying and whining all the time, being a full time, unpaid babysitter… best birth control there is. Well that and being a lesbian.”

A decent stack of clean dishes was piling up and Lin hopped down from the counter, grabbing a towel and getting to work drying them.

“You’re not so bad with kids yourself, you know.”

“Yes well, I practically raised Su when my mother wasn’t home. Which was pretty much all the time.”

Lin focused intently on the plate she was drying but she could feel Kya watching her. She was working on working through her childhood traumas but it was still a sore subject. And Lin really didn’t want to talk about it right now. She hoped Kya would pick up on that and steer the conversation away from Lin’s complicated upbringing. With a rare stroke of luck the phone rang, Kya flicking her hands quickly so the water returned to the sink before bolting for the phone.

“Hello. Yes, this is Kya. Right now? I’m kind of busy at the moment. Yes, I understand. No, it’s okay. Just give me a little time. Yes. Thank you.”

Kya hung up the receiver and turned slowly to Lin with a look Lin did not like at all.

“Kya…”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. One of my mother’s old students is very ill and asked for her personally. Obviously mom isn’t coming to the city right now so I’m the next best thing.”

“Kya, you can’t leave me alone with the kids.”

“They’re asleep. It’ll be fine.”

“And if they wake up?”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. If they wake up you’ll have to figure something out. Just think of what your mother used to do if you or Su got up after being put to bed.”

Lin snorted. Her and Su wouldn’t even make it to their bedroom door before Toph would bend a piece of earth in their path that would not so gently push them back towards the bed until they got the picture and accepted defeat. Once Lin had gotten a handle on earthbending it had become more of a game. For both her and Su. Trying to see who could get the closest to outsmarting their mother. The only time Lin had gotten the upper hand before the age of 12 was when Tenzin had helped her “float” above the floor with his airbending so Toph couldn’t sense her. It was one of the few times her mother had actually said she was proud of Lin, at least out loud.

Kya walked to Lin and took her hands, planting a gentle kissing on her cheek.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t guarantee.”

Kya rolled her eyes, moving to the door to slip on her shoes. Lin helped her with her bag and crossed her arms as Kya opened the door to leave.

“I’ll be back before the sun rises.”

“Be careful.”

“Always am, chief.”

She gave her a lazy salute and Lin rolled her eyes, watching her descend the stairs. Once she was out of visual sight Lin stomped her foot to the ground and used her seismic sense to follow Kya until she was completely out of range.

Lin let out a long sigh making to close the door. She froze as bright light flashed across the sky followed a few seconds later by a low rumble off in the distance. Her mouth got dry as she closed the door with a quiet click. Of course there would be a thunderstorm while she was on Air Temple Island alone.

She felt her chest tighten and tried to control her breathing, willing her thoughts to stop spiraling. But she couldn’t stop the memories that hit her. A darkening sky. The sound of rain as it pinged against her scorched armor. A masked face. A cold thumb pressed against her forehead…

Another loud boom of thunder sounded, close enough to make the house shudder and Lin jumped, closing her eyes tight. She felt something then. Light, barely there, footsteps running down the hall towards her.

Lin wiped her eyes quickly, just in time to relax her face as Rohan came running into the room. His heartbeat was pounding and his eyes wide with fear. At least she wasn’t the only one who didn’t care for the storm.

She softened her face into a smile and walked to him, holding her arms out. He didn’t hesitate at all before running to her and she picked him up easily, his tiny legs wrapping around her waist.

“It’s all right. It’s just a storm. I’ve got you.”

He buried his face in her chest and Lin smiled. She didn’t know why she had been so worried. She could handle this.

“Let’s get you back into bed.”

“No!”

“I’ll sit with you until the storm is gone, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

Lin carried him quietly down the hall to the room he shared with Meelo.

“Now we have to be quiet so we don’t wake up your brother, okay?”

Rohan lifted his head from her chest and nodded quickly. She pushed open the door and moved to the small bed in the farthest corner of the room. She glanced over at Meelo who was completely covered by his blankets but thankfully still sleeping. Lin sat on the edge of Rohan’s bed and he jumped from her arms, immediately pulling his own blanket over his head. Just as she started to coax him into laying down lightning flashed again and Lin closed her eyes in anticipation of what was to come.

The storm must be right over them now because the next boom of thunder shook the house so badly that the windows rattled. Lin heard a shrill scream from one of the rooms down the hall and she watched as Meelo shot 4 feet into the air on a gust of wind, startling awake.

Perfect.

Lin carefully uncovered Rohan, the young airbender not waiting for an invitation before jumping back into Lin’s arms. They stood and turned to where Meelo now sat with his eyes wide and staring.

“Come on, Meelo. You can ride on my back.”

Lin suspected that Meelo wasn’t actually all that frightened of the storm but wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to take full advantage of Lin’s offer. He jumped on her back and she felt it in her knees. When did the kid get so heavy? He got into a more comfortable position and Lin lead them all into the and down the hall towards Ikki’s room.

“Ikki?”

A small head popped out from under her blankets. Lin walked to the edge of the bed and started to sit, Meelo jumping from her back and perching on the corner of his sister’s bed while Rohan curled up against her chest. The rain was coming down hard now and the thunder and lightning was going off at regular intervals.

Rohan was still holding tightly to Lin and as she looked at Ikki’s nervous face she knew there was only one thing to do.

“Ikki, move over so I can lay down next to you.”

The young girl’s face lit up in apparent surprise but she moved over without a word. Lin pried Rohan from her arms and laid him on the bed next to Ikki before shuffling herself into the position next to him.

“Can, can you be in the middle? Just so I know you’re really here.”

Lin refrained from letting out a sigh before she shifted Rohan to her other side, inching herself closer to Ikki. She immediately nestled into Lin’s side and she could feel her heartbeat slow. Meelo was already asleep sitting up against the wall and Lin was hopeful she would be able to sneak away before long.

Of course, the universe had other plans as the loudest crack of thunder yet rang out across the sky. Even Lin herself jumped at the sound and Ikki let out another shriek. Meelo seemed a bit more concerned now as he moved closer to Lin, taking up the spot between the wall and Ikki.

“Are you guys okay?”

Lin started as she looked up to see Jinora standing in the doorway. That girl really was twinkletoes the third, she hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Everything is fine. It appears not everyone is a fan of the storm.”

“Oh, okay. I’m glad everyone is okay.”

Lin raised an eyebrow as Jinora still lingered in the doorway.

“Maybe you can come join us and help me keep an eye on these three?”

The teenager’s face relaxed as she climbed up to join them, curling up at the foot of the bed with her head against Lin’s legs. There was another flash of lightning and Lin decided she had had enough. Before the thunder could disturb them she wriggled her right hand free from under Ikki and made a quick, violent movement with her hand. Thick slabs of earth shot up from the floor to the ceiling, soundproofing their little room against the raging storm outside. She had left a small opening by the doorway so she could make her escape once they were asleep again.

It didn’t take long for the four tiny heartbeats to slow to a resting pace but it was then that Lin realized she was in the unfortunate situation of not being able to move without risking waking everyone up again. She took in a deep breath and weighed her options. She could move in one quick motion and hope for the best. But she was already so tired and didn’t want to deal with any more bedtime routines. She supposed she could just close her eyes for a bit, at least until the storm had passed. She shifted slightly, getting as comfortable as she could with the gaggle of airbenders she was surrounded by. She’d just close her eyes for a few minutes…

///////////

It had taken Kya longer than she expected to return to the island, the thunderstorm making it impossible for the ferry to make the trip across the bay. She hoped Lin was doing okay, last she knew Tenzin’s kids weren’t overly fond of storms.

What Kya didn’t expect was to find Lin completely passed out in a bed with her nieces and nephews draped all over her. Rohan had his head on Lin’s chest, her arm wrapped around him protectively as an impressive drool stain spread across Lin’s shirt. Ikki and Meelo were back to back on Lin’s other side, Ikki hugging Lin’s arm close to her as she rested her head on Lin’s shoulder. Jinora was curled on her side at the foot of the bed, her head resting in between Lin’s sprawled legs.

Lin’s face was more relaxed than Kya had seen it in a long while. Even in sleep, her partner was full of tension but right now she looked peaceful. Kya smiled as she backed out of the room, avoiding the large stone slabs Lin must have used to shelter the room from the loud sounds of the storm.

The house was quiet and Kya dragged herself to Tenzin and Pema’s empty bed, determined to get a little bit of sleep before the sun began to rise. She smiled again as the image of Lin and the kids snuggled together flashed in her mind. She laid her head down, sleep overtaking her as soon as her eyes had closed.

[slowpoke-fics]

The Good Doctor - Part Two

Fandom: TWD

Pairing: Negan x Reader; platonic Rick x Reader; platonic Daryl x Reader

Summary: you leave Alexandria and arrive at Sanctuary

Warnings: touch of self deprecation, everything is off cannon, read at your own risk

A/N: I'm having fun with this one, hard to stay cannon but I tried as best I could

The Good Doctor Part One!!

Negan scoffed, unbelievable that you’d demand that, he’s gotta run his own group, “Are you fuckin’ joking sweetheart?” You laughed, packing up the supplies and giving the bag of supplies back to him, “No, I am not,” you pulled back and crossed your arms, “so how bad do you want me, Negan?”

Negan sighed, not wanting to leave you behind, having to decide if the supplies were worth giving you up. "Alright," Negan stood up, "that's what we fuckin' do then." Negan walked to the door, opening it for Amelia. "Amelia, doll, this is my good doctor friend, she's gonna show you how to do everything around here, while I go find Carl and that little Judith," he grabbed the Twix from the bag, "I get to take credit for this one though," waving the Twix around as he walked out the door.

About two hours or so after showing Amelia how you kept your charts, how everything was labeled and organized, how to make sense of when to give someone herbal tea you grow or actual medicine, Rick barges in. "What do you think you're doing Y/n? You can't go with him!" You scoffed, "Amelia has this covered, it'll be fine it's just a week." You moved around the clinic closer to Rick, "You can't tell me I can't do this when it means we keep next weeks supplies!" Rick shook his head, "Y/n, he will never allow that, he will get his due, what do you think you're doing?"

"Rick! He has always kept his word to me! He thought this through, brought supplies and a doctor with him! He wants this and I might be able to convince him to go easier on Alexandria!" You rubbed your face knowing that Rick would have a problem with this, "Y/n, he's not doing this out of the kindness of his heart, he wants something from you. I can't allow this." You laughed, with your full heart, "You're not allowing anything, I want this Rick, I have a chance to really change his mind about us and you want me to what? Say fuck you we don't need your antibiotics and slack? We're barely making it, so either get on board, or shut the fuck up." With that, Rick stormed out, Negan walking back up the sidewalk back to the clinic, shining his under-your-skin smile at Rick. Maybe that is what he wanted, to piss off Rick.

Negan walked back into the clinic, smiling brightly at you, "You about fuckin' ready sugar?" You nodded, "Amelia, you got any questions for me?" Amelia looked at you, at the charts and her notes, "No, I-I think I'm good." You smiled, "Okay, good," turning to Negan, "one more stop, gotta get some of my stuff and my books so I can study." Negan laughed, "Are you fuckin' joking?" You rolled your eyes, "If you have to ask, then no, I'm not joking." Pushing past Negan and down to your house you saw Daryl, perched on your porch.

"Ay, where do ya think you're goin'?" Daryl just looked at you waiting for an answer, "With Negan, going to go with him for the week, see if I can't trade some of my musty medical books for some new ones." Daryl looked at you with so much fear it broke your heart, "Don't worry, I'll be fine, Negan isn't going to take me to the rest of the saviors to just let me get hurt." Negan perked up at this, the good doctor defending him, "She's fuckin' right ya know, wouldn't ever let anything happen to our good doctor here." Daryl almost growled at Negan, you can't blame him for not liking the man, "Worried it's him that'll do all the hurting," Daryl whispered so only you could hear. "He wouldn't Daryl, it'll be okay, I'll be back in a week." With that, you marched into your house, collecting your toothbrush, an extra outfit or two and your books.

Coming out of your house, Rick, Daryl and Negan all stood on your porch. "You ready to get rollin'?" You smiled at Negan, hiding the fear of getting onto his bike. "Yeah," still smiling, "not like I have much to bring." You went down your steps and stopped when Daryl grabbed Negan by the shoulder, "Ya bring her back or ya die with me." Negan jerked back from him, "Boy don't ever fucking do that again," Negan descended the steps and paused, looking to Daryl, "I'll bring the good doctor home."

You crawled on Negan's bike, grabbing tightly to him, very nervous to ride with him. Negan smiled at you relying on him, it felt nice for you to need him, even if all you needed was to get to Sanctuary. As he rolled out of Alexandria he slid your hands around his waist, raising a blush to your cheeks, "Better to hold there, doll."

You couldn't help but skip a beat and grab a little tighter to Negan during every bump in the road, wouldn't it be something if you've made it this far and what takes you out is a fuckin' bike? You really felt as if Negan was enjoying this, you grabbing him a little tighter every time you got a little nervous. You still didn't really understand why he wanted you to come back with him, why he wanted it so much to lose out of Alexandria's supplies.

As he parked the bike he stepped off, smiling and holding out his hand, "We're here doll." You grabbed his hand, swinging your leg over the side of the bike, when you hit the ground you stumbled a bit, grabbing onto Negan and laughing, "Damn, maybe if I could stand." Negan chuckles at that, "Let me show you around, doll."

Following Negan he led you to the trading posts, where anything could be exchanged for just about anything. Then he showed you the cafeteria, more people than you'd seen in one place than you'd seen since it started. Then he led you up several flights of stairs, Jesus Christ, no wonder this man is so beautiful if this is his workout everyday. Nope, Y/n, this man is ruthless and you are here to fight for Alexandria.

He opened a door to what you thought was a commune it was so big, "This is where me n you are stayin' welcome to your home for the next week." You turned to him with wide eyes, "I'm staying here? With you?" Negan laughed, "Shit doll, just the best way I could keep my eyes on you." You shrugged and started to look around, "I'll sleep here," pointing to the couch, "this is where you live?" Negan again chuckled, "No, this is just where me n you are staying while you're here," moving past you to set his things down, "figured you'd like to be close to everything, maybe to the doc so you can learn." Maybe Negan had done something nice and actually just wanted to do something for you and this was the best way that he could do so. "Come on, I'll show you the fuckin' garden, you'll love it.

After showing you the entirety of Sanctuary, you finally got to go see this Doc he's been yapping about. "Doc," Negan started as he opened the door, "this is that fuckin' firecracker I thought you'd like to work with!" Carson smiled at you, happy he was able to teach someone again. "Ah yes! The doctor from Alexandria! I've been prepping for your arrival all day! I understand you're going on a run tomorrow, but we can work together the remaining time Negan doesn't have you tied up!" Carson seemed genuinely excited to work with you, but you knew nothing of going on a run with Negan tomorrow.

Whipping around to Negan, "A run tomorrow?" Negan scratched his beard and smiled at the you, "Dammit, Carson, hadn't really told her about that, see you later." Negan led you out of Carson's office and back up to your designated home for the week, "I was going to tell you," pulling out a bottle of liquor from the desk, "there's a place about forty miles from here I thought you'd like to help me ransack." You hummed in consideration as he poured two glasses, "I reckon we can go as long as we don't take the damn bike, not sure I'd last that long." Negan smirked, "Oh, baby, I could make you last that long." You laughed, a blush rushing to your cheeks and a desire to your core, "Not sure you've got it in ya man," you downed your drink and held the glass out for him to refill. "You could find out ya know," Negan winked at you, "we'll take the fuckin' truck, gotta have something to bring the supplies in."

That night you lay on the sofa, writing your entry for the day in your journal:

May 21st

I made it to sanctuary with Negan, it's actually a little unbelievable, still not sure what my purpose is, did he bring me here to learn from Carson? to be able to trade my books? to be able to help him on the run? what's the point? I'm no more useful here than at Alexandria, knot on a log, maybe he isn't so bad and I'm overthinking it, I know he read this journal, maybe he thinks he can fix me, sucks for him, I'm broken beyond repair