#he passed out from the adorableness of the last image

[picory]

they were quite frankly so gay for this. who's the artist behind these drawings, are these official? i always wonder

[frmisnow]

total loser. ⊹₊⟡ nsfw.

summary. crashing a party just to unwind? yeah, that was the plan — until you end up sharing a smoke with the lead singer of that metal band. turns out the ‘playboy sex god’ image? total myth. awkward, tipsy, and apparently… a virgin?! this night just got interesting !

warnings / includes. all fictional ofc, smoking, drinking, suggestive themes, soft!dom reader

damned be after parties.

but long live your connections and well.. pretty face, that's what gets you in one of these special parties, pretty privilige is alive and breathing!

for the fact that this was an after party of a last tour show for one of the biggest metal bands right now, you'd imagine it to be a lot more expensive. these red plastic cups just don't cut it, and whose idea was it to squeeze so many people into one little room? that's the charm of the metal industry, i guess.

apropos charm of the metal industry?

you'd think somebody put something in your drink, the way you see the jungkook in front of your eyes right now? leaned up against a wall, nursing what looked like his fourth shot, hair messy like he just got of stage.

one of his bandmates stumbles past, slapping him on the back, and jungkook nearly loses his balance. He mutters something, barely audible over the music, brows drawn together in this adorable mix of annoyance and confusion. his eyes trail over the room before ultimately settling back onto the man in front of him, patting his back, a cigarette pack in his hand.

you made your way through the people, way to much sweat and way to close might i add, did you look obssesive? maybe. but the cold night air sounded heavenly and you could use a good smoke. plus, you'd rather come of as a groupie then get suffocated on the dance floor.

with each step, you felt the chaos of the party fade a little more. the fresh air hit your face like a slap, and you welcomed it, relishing the brief moment of solitude. But you weren’t the only one seeking a breather.

jungkook pushed off the wall, nearly colliding with you as you stepped outside. the cold night air was a relief, sharp and refreshing, cutting through the haze of noise and sweat. he fumbled with the cigarette pack, almost dropping it as he tried to shake one out, his fingers clumsy from the alcohol.

"need a light?” you offered, pulling your lighter from your pocket.

he met your gaze, a hint of gratitude in those dark eyes, before quickly looking anywhere else but you, “thanks. I usually don’t smoke, but—” he paused, taking a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke. “i guess i just get… scared. so, i drink. and then i drink some more and then i start smoking, it's a bad habit.”

silence fell over the both of you, you didn't decide to pry since that'd just be rude. even though there were quite a few thoughts in your head. why was he scared? rather, who was he scared of?

after a while (and plenty of drags), jungkooks voice cut through the carefully established silence, small and quiet, a mumbling-like tone that made him seem tipsy, "i don't know i just want to feel something.." he trails off, shaking his head, clearly oversharing, "i mean no, i feel something when i'm on stage i just-"

he took a breath, taking another drag before ultimately stupping it out with his shoe, giving him another oppurtunity to not stare at you, "would you have sex with me?"

the next thing you knew, you were standing outside jungkook’s apartment, the door slightly ajar, a hesitant light spilling into the hallway. you weren't proud of it, but you also didn't have time to really think it through? teaching a hot rockstar virgin how to have sex? that sounds ai-generated and it was simply something you couldn't pass up on.

he fumbled with the keys, his fingers still shaky from the drinks or maybe that was just him, you'd seen his feet tap onto the floor multiple times throught the uber and his eyes never quite seemed to settle. maybe he was just a naturally anxious person, that's the impression he gave of.

the place was small but cozy, with a faint scent of lingering smoke and rock posters plastered across the walls, giving it an oddly inviting charm.

"i think you're really pretty." he managed to hold eye contact this time around, though he was clearly fidgety.

you smiled, genuinely, a rush of flush going straight to your cheeks, fuck weren't you supposed to be the compsoed one? yet he was so sweet in a way. "flattery won't get you anywhere but it's a nice start."

he grinned, walking ahead of you intot he kitchen, the small amount of alcohol he had in his system making him lose some balance in his step but he quickly recomposed himself, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer then last time, "would you like some water?"

you don't think you've ever had anybody ask you if you wanted to drink water during a hookup, but you welcome the thought. see? so sweet, how would you even teach him sex?

"sure." you respond, shrugging, as he pours some in, "can i kiss you?"

he nods, the water in the glass swirling in small circles as he takes a step closer towards you—he's so close you can feel his breath on your skin, each one of his exhales and inhales—his eyes on you, "yeah."

his tone is quiet, but firm and his free hand slowly reaches to your waist, "can i touch you?"

you hush a 'yeah', closing the gap between the both of you, pulling your shirt of yourself.

as he grasped the lace of your bra, he hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. you guided his hands, gently tugging him on, the material falling away effortlessly.

"oh.." he gasped, like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, eyes taking a quick glance on the now exposed skin in front of him—all of the tension he was carrying in his shoulders quickly disappearing.

he put the glass down on the nearest surface, "sit on the couch." he mumbled, breath shaky as he gently pushed you back.

"woah commanding now?" you raised your eyebrows, genuine surprise written over your face though you grin, walking down the hallway, sitting down.

"i'm a quick learner." he muttered, his eyes on you as he followed behind, quickly making his way on the couch, sitting incredibly close to you. he leaned forward, his body hovering over yours before he quickly put his mouth on your neck, leaving small kisses on the skin.

you encouraged him, tugging him closer, your fingers weaving into his hair as he found his rhythm. with every kiss, he grew bolder, his hands exploring the curves of your body like he was savoring something sweet.

you pulled him down with you, laughter escaping your lips as he stumbled slightly, catching himself with a grin.

“okay, maybe I’m not a pro at this,” he said, his cheeks slightly flushed. You smirked, enjoying his awkward charm.

you guided his hands, showing him how to touch, how to tease. the couch squeaked under you as you shifted positions, getting more comfortable. his kisses became more confident, more demanding, each one igniting a fire within you.

as his clothes started to come off, the atmosphere became charged. You watched as his eyes widened, a mix of surprise and desire flooding his expression. he was eager, and you were more than willing to lead the way.

you tangled your fingers with his, showing him what felt good, how to respond to your body. he mirrored your movements, following your lead, the shy, awkward dweeb from earlier replaced by someone more daring. you sucessfully managed to change a rockstar; that'd look good on a resume.

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2

Part 1(?)

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.

That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.

They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.

Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.

They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.

However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.

He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.

"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"

Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.

"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.

There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.

Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.

After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)

"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.

"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."

"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?

"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.

"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.

"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.

What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

He decided to change the subject instead.

Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.

As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.

"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."

Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."

Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.

Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"

Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."

Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."

However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."

The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.

Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.

"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.

Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.

…

As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.

Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.

He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"

Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"

"What?" Jason frowned.

"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.

Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)

[delulujuls]

the prettiest boy in the paddock | op81

hi there, here comes the 1.3k of wholesome fluff with the pastry boi. its just-uh, i already know that i wanna write a part two for this so watch out!

summary: oscar is feeling a bit down but little does he know that for two people out there he is the prettiest boy in the paddock

warnings: none

pairing: fem!mclarendriver x oscar piastri (ft. lando)

Oscar never had an opinion about his appearance.

Whenever someone asked him if he considered himself as an attractive guy, he would just shrug. Passing by shop windows, mirrors, or surfaces reflecting his image, he never stopped to check if he looked good. The same applied to taking pictures of him. He never needed to have a say in them; he didn't feel the need to improve any shot, as he might not look favorable in it. If the photographer thought he looked great, who was he to judge?

This, of course, didn't mean that Oscar didn't take care of himself; quite the opposite. The Aussie was always neat, smelled good, and sometimes even used hair conditioner, lip balm or even a hand cream. Looking at him, you could notice a handsome, young man with a well-built, slim figure, a pleasant gaze, and an infectious smile.

The fact that Oscar was attractive was especially noticeable on social media. He was adored by fans. The papaya army loved the McLaren duo, and Oscar was no less popular with the ladies than Lando. If anything, sometimes it seemed like his name was shouted even louder.

His teammates also shared the same opinion. Oscar was a good-looking lad, so it wasn't surprising that during conferences, interviews or casual conversations Lando couldn't take his eyes off him and Y/N took every opportunity to throw compliments at him. However, these compliments were one hundred percent sincere and true and Oscar took them very personally, blushing like never before. These compliments were perceived as harmless, friendly jokes by the public, but both Y/N and Lando believed that their friend was the indeed the most beautiful.

However, this didn't change the fact that sometimes Oscar had a bad day. This was one of those days.

With the hood pulled low over his head, the person in the orange McLaren hoodie entered the dining room. Y/N was slowly having her breakfast, scrolling through social media. She usually went for meals early to avoid crowds and have some time to clear her head. Her surprise was evident when someone pulled a chair next to her and took a seat.

"Oscar?" the girl asked in surprise, barely able to see her friend's face under the hood. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I couldn't sleep."

He muttered under his breath and opened a small chocolate packet, pouring it over his pancakes.

Y/N blinked several times, holding her phone in her hand. Clearly, something was off.

"Is something wrong?"

Oscar shook his head and leaned his elbow on the table. He ate in a hunched position, with his back slouched. It looked like he was hiding from someone. Or hiding something.

"You haven't convinced me."

She replied, putting down her sandwich.

The Aussie ate in silence. Only his chin and chocolate-stained lips were visible under the hood. Y/N looked at him, waiting, but when she saw it was better to drop the subject, she returned to her breakfast and scrolling through Instagram.

When Y/N finished eating, she glanced at her friend one last time. He still sat with his head down, swiping his finger on his phone screen. She gathered her things, planning to leave the dining room, realizing there was no chance for a normal chat with Oscar.

"See you around, grumpy."

As she stood up, she heard a quiet question.

"Can you help me?"

Y/N paused and finished her coffee.

"Of course I'll help you, but first I need to know in what matter."

She replied without hesitation, looking down at him. He raised his head and for the first time that day, she had the chance to look at his face.

"Do you have a moment now?"

The girl checked her phone's clock and nodded.

"To my room, then."

Once they were in her room, she sat on the bed and Oscar, after closing the door behind him, walked slowly into the room.

"I'm all ears."

He took his hands out of his pockets and sat next to his friend. He sighed and took off the hood, turning his face toward Y/N in silence. She looked at him surprised, studying him.

"What? You don't have the answer written on your face."

"I do," he replied tartly "You don't see gow terrible i look?"

Y/N furrowed her brows. She had no idea what he was talking about. He looked exactly the same as always.

"You look cute, just like every day."

She said playfully, smiling, but he wasn't in the mood for jokes. He lowered his head and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Acne," he said, resigned, lowering his hands to his knees. "It's worse than ever."

She gently touched his chin and turned his face towards her. Oscar avoided eye contact. He felt embarrassed, unsure whether he was more ashamed of coming to her with such a thing or of his appearance.

"If you want me to help, first, don't touch your face like you did a moment ago."

The girl smiled and brushed the hair from his forehead with her hand.

The Aussie looked into her eyes and, seeing her smile, he felt a little more confident.

"Can you help me with this? I have no idea what to do."

"You're lucky you're friends with someone who has half a Walmart in their makeup bag."

Y/N smiled and stood up, going to the bathroom. After a moment, she returned with a pink headband, which she placed on Oscar's head to keep his hair away from his face.

"Have you washed your face today?"

Oscar nodded.

"What do you use for face wash? Tell me about your skincare routine."

To be honest, there was nothing much to talk about.

"Uh, I wash my face with water, morning and night, when I take a shower."

Y/N blinked several times and looked at him in shock.

"And that's it?"

He just nodded. To his surprise, his friend smiled and clapped her hands.

"Great, I can teach you everything."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Oscar replied uncertainly, but he obediently stood up and followed the girl to the bathroom.

"Don't worry; it won't be anything crazy" Y/N said and took her face wash gel in her hand "It's gonna be Piastri's friendly skincare."

He listened to her even more carefully than when he analyzed the race result with the strategists. He asked when he had doubts, trying to remember every word she said. When he finished washing his face, she applied a gentle scrub and face mask after. After that, it was the time fot rest of the skincare routine. Y/N took a bit of cream on her fingers, which finished off all the major skincare. She crouched down in front of him and smiled, applying the cream to his face.

"Smile, Osc. You are beautiful."

Piastri involuntarily smiled at her compliment.

"Immediately better."

She added, massaging the remaining cream into her hands. For some imperfections, she applied a clear, specialized ointment and removed the headband from his head. She stood up, taking a brush and combing his hair.

"Thank you, Y/N."

Oscar replied, looking at her from below. His brown eyes sparkled as he raised his head to look at his friend.

"You are welcome, pretty boy."

She replied. She wanted to kiss his cheeks but refrained, partly because of the multi-step skincare routine on his face, and partly because Oscar was her friend. But mostly, it was about skincare.

"And you're beautiful, don't forget that."

"Of course, I am" a loud interjection from Lando was heard as he entered the room, making himself comfortable in it, quickly appearing in the bathroom "What's going on here and why without me?"

"You miss everything because you're the last one to get up"

Y/N replied, putting her things back into her cosmetic bag.

"Not true, don't be mean."

Lando retorted, but quickly his gaze turned towards Oscar and the Brit smiled at the sight of him "Wow, Osc, what a glow, mate!"

"Y/N did her hundred-step skincare on me."

"Really? Why are you torturing our friend?" Norris asked, sitting on the edge of the bathtub next to the Aussie.

"I asked her myself," the younger boy replied before the girl spoke up, ready to throw some sort of retort at her friend, "I wasn't feeling very confident this morning, my acne was killing me a bit and it's gotten worse lately."

Oscar admitted, still a little embarrassed by his problem.

"Aw, Oscar," Lando wrapped his arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. "You'd win the competition for the prettiest boy in the paddock."

Piastri blushed and lowered his gaze. A slight smile appeared on his rosy lips.

"Oh yes, you would definitely win."

Y/N replied and put her makeup bag aside, also sitting next to Piastri and kissing his other cheek, feeling a bit more confident after Lando did the exact same thing. Oscar blushed even more and raised his hands to hide his face, but lowered them halfway.

"I can't touch my face, damn it!"

[clare-875]

Doubt (Zoro x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Zoro x Reader Summary: An offhanded comment makes you insecure, but Zoro is there to reassure you in his own way. Warnings: Angst to Fluff, Ussop's unintentionally mean in the beginning? Notes: The above image does NOT belong to me, Female Reader [One Piece Masterlist] ______

It was a passing comment; one you knew you shouldn't look into, one that meant no harm. But the words hit you harder than you thought it would. You had been talking rapidly about your adventures from the last island you and your crew had visited. There, you had all fought enemies, saved new friends and eaten together; the same old. Luffy, Chopper and Usopp had been listening eagerly matching your grin with keen interest in your tale as the crew had once again been split up on your journey. You spoke of the obscure things you saw on your side of the adventure, the enemies you faced and how they compared to those your crew had fought, the new fighting methods you had mastered, the people you met; everything. You hear Luffy's laugh brimmed with light humour as Chopper's eyes gleamed when you spoke of how you dealt the finishing blow on your opponent. You probably should've noticed how long you had been talking and exclaiming but you were lost in your glee, so much so that you didn't realise until Usopp spoke out with a teasing grin.

"Damn [y/n], you can sure talk a lot." You stop your story short at his teasing words meeting his mischievous gaze with a roll of your eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?" Chopper nods eyes determinedly looking to Usopp as Luffy starts to doze off once his initial interest has passed. "Yeah, I wanna hear [y/n] tell their story!" Chopper exclaims from beside you as you smile at his excited and adorable form. Usopp sweatdrops at the sudden ridicule aimed at him and tries to backtrack on his words, only to make things worse. "I didn't mean anything bad about it- I just mean like you're so talkative and outspoken- and you know Zoro's-" Your eyes turn to him in surprise as he mentions your boyfriend. "Zoro?" You ask as you raise your brow. What has he got to do with this? "Yeah well, Zoro's so reserved and nonchalant, I just guess it surprised me that you got together- I mean, Zoro doesn't seem like one to tolerate people that- I mean, that came out wrong-" You can't help but frown at his words as he continues to ramble and you listen to what he implies. Was that really what Usopp thought; was it what the crew thought? That you were "too much", that Zoro was just tolerating you?

"I just meant-" Usopp starts to panic now as he sees the fall of your features at his misplaced words, making it seem that you were a burden, but Sanji's voice rings through to cut him off before he can try to redeem himself. "[y/n]-san~ dinner's ready!" You turn to see the love-lost cook burst out from within the kitchen now looking down to you from where you sat on the deck of the ship. His facade quickly falls however as his eyes sharpen towards the men that surround you. "Oi, Usopp, Chopper, wake Luffy and hurry or there'll be none for you!" You turn to your friends as Sanji whizzes away in search of the other female members of the crew. You give Chopper and Usopp a smile despite them seeing how it didn't gleam as it usually did. "Come on, let's go. Hey Luffy!" You then nudge your Captain purposefully as he sits up in confusion. "[y-y/n]?" You sigh at his drowsy state but go towards the kitchen. "Dinner!" You say, and the three all promptly follow to the dining room.

When you sit down at the dining table, you would have thought you'd forget the brief inclinations of Usopp's words just moments earlier, but you didn't. It suddenly made you self-conscious, made you think so deeply into the conversation you had, despite you knowing better; it was just Usopp taking things too far as usual. But then it made you think about all the interactions you had with your boyfriend. You remember all the instances you would speak animatedly about your day, talking while he trained or lay around the ship. Was it annoying to him? You think of his reaction, he didn't seem too fazed when you did. But he never seemed invested either, merely a nod of his head or an odd grunt of acknowledgement. Then, your thoughts go deeper. You think of the instances you would seek him out, you think of every time you showered him with affection behind closed doors, thought of every brush of your hand against his and every move you made.

Was it too much? Was I too much?

Tolerating; is that the word you would use to describe Zoro's demeanour to you? But the more you thought the more you saw how you were the one seeking him out the most, the one talking the most, the one giving affection the most. And the more you thought the more you realised you never took the time to see if Zoro actually enjoyed it; your constant want to be in his presence. You knew you were being stupid. You knew that there were more than enough ways that Zoro showed his love to you in return. You would hear his murmured words, notice small actions, would see affection deep within his eyes. After all, Zoro was nothing if not confident; he would never agree to a relationship unless he truly wanted it; unless he truly adored you. Yet you let the small comments churn within you, buried insecurity rising as you notice your differences. You feel dread next. He wouldn't leave you for it, would he?

You are so lost in your thoughts you don't notice said man walking into the dining room, skin slick with the efforts of his afternoon workout as he makes a beeline for his spot; his spot next to you. Zoro sees you absentmindedly sitting in your seat and nudges you causing you to realise that he is now present. You smile at him then, "Hey Zoro," you grin but Zoro sees slight hesitance in your eyes and your lack of prying words or subtle affection. He nods but decides not to question it as Sanji then puts out the dinner for everyone to share and soon everyone around you is lost to the prospect of food. As you go for your share watching as crew members devour Sanji's new creation you find yourself timid as you look around you. Your friends are shouting and talking and eating joyously, and though you would often be the centre of the overly animated show of dinner, you suddenly feel so drained from your thoughts; almost sad. There is a gnawing feeling of vulnerability in your chest pulled open by the words shared earlier, but you can't help but feel like you're overreacting.

"Oi, are you okay?" You turn in surprise at Zoro's passive words as he goes for another cup of sake sharp eye trained on you. He had noticed how you hadn't filled the air with your vibrant words, talking about all that had happened in the short time you had left him to his workout. He noticed how you, usually up and shouting with the crew as they did now, sat rooted to your spot just eating. He noticed how your eyes didn't shine with the usual mirth they usually did. Sure, he wasn't one to be as talkative as you, or openly share his affections as you did, but it was one of his favourite things about you. Being able to just listen to your joyous voice, feel your love in so many ways, and have you by his side; the one he would protect till the end of time. You, surprised to see that he had actually taken the liberty to notice feel your heart constrict at his care but shake your head nonetheless. "I'm fine."

Only, maybe you weren't.

When evening came, you merely kissed the corner of his face before turning to your side of the bed. No long nightly rants, no excitable or adoring words, no cuddling like you usually begged. Zoro shook off his concern however, thinking you just needed a moment like he sometimes did. That night he slept horribly without you in his arms. When morning came and you awoke to his absence as he left for his early morning workout, you didn't seek him out as you usually did. That morning, Zoro found it strange when you didn't grace him with your lively presence as you usually did. The teasing words as you watched him work, the abundance of plans you shared for the day, your sweet pout as you asked for his attention. Yes, he would merely blush fiercely or nod passively or roll his eyes but the chime of your laughter as he did made his heart warm. The lack of you left the empty spot in the crow's nest cold where you usually sat. These happenings became the entire day, which followed into the week, and despite Zoro putting off his concern earlier, now he was confused and annoyed.

Had he done something wrong?

On your end, you were merely trying your best. You tried to limit your conversations with him, the touch of your hand to his, the engulfing of his form, the kissing of his face. And it honestly hurt. You felt so urgently the need to be by his side, you craved him and yet each time you tried to push away your insecurity, it ate up at you and you hesitated. Was I too much? Would he be annoyed? Would he leave? Was I a burden? So, you didn't. For a week you tried, but you could feel yourself breaking. Currently, you were sitting at the dining room table as Sanji was prepping for the day's lunch. You let out a deep sigh full of sadness, and Sanji, with that woman-radar of his, turned at your blatant dismay. Many of the in-tune members of the crew had noticed the lack of vibrancy in your figure and the much more irritable form of Zoro. "What's wrong [y/n]-san?" You look up to see the blond-haired man looking at you with an unusual seriousness in his eyes; concern. You have seen that a lot this week.

"Nothing's wrong Sanji," you say with a tired smile. But Sanji frowns at you, seeing clearly through your words. "It's that damn Marimo isn't it?" You look up surprised to see that Sanji now has raging anger consuming him. There is literally fire in his eyes as he turns to the door readying to go beat up your boyfriend. "Damn, moss-head thinks he can take poor [y/n]-san's heart away from me and then break it so carelessly, I'll show him what-" You quickly get up stopping Sanji and hoping to prevent a seemingly unlawful murder. "Wait! Sanji it's not him!" Sanji sobers quickly at the gentle touch of your hand on his shoulder holding him back as he turns to you in surprise. He then frowns and surprises you when he looks at you with confusion, "Then what-" He is quickly cut off by the slam of the door as an angry-looking swordsman quickly enters the fray. His sharp eyes travel from your hand to where it still clutched Sanji's shoulder, then to your frozen gaze and then to Sanji's.

"Damn cook! Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend!" Sanji's eyes blaze instantly at that and before you know it the two are fighting like deranged idiots. You observe the suddenly escalated scene in surprise hearing insults thrown left to right and the flurry of limbs as they try to take a chunk out of each other. You then, laugh. It fills you slightly and then it hits you fully. How much you missed Zoro, how much you missed the normalcy even if it was just watching two overpowered idiots fight as they usually did. Zoro turns at the melodic sound of your laughter pausing in his fight as Sanji's eyes turn to hearts at the sound. It had been so long since he heard it; since he saw you as you usually were. A warm hand encapsulates your arm and you look up to see that it is Zoro, now taking you from the kitchen in silence much to the dismay of Sanji.

When the two of you reach your shared room, he turns to you, form tense once again as he forces his words to you. "Okay [y/n], what's actually wrong? You've been avoiding me all week. You haven't come once to the crow's nest. You haven't done the usual shit you do.-" You look up at your boyfriend's unusually frustrated form listening off the things you haven't done that week and you feel your heart brim at his concern. You feel stupid. "I'm sorry." You cut him off as he turns to you, and you look up to him hesitantly. "I- I just thought you know, it might've been annoying to you?" You advert your eyes when his eyebrows raise in surprise. "I'm just so used to sharing everything, and I sometimes get carried away, I just thought- what if-?" You stop yourself as a familiar tugging your heart weighs you down. You hear a deep sigh. "[y/n], is this what this week has been all about?" You nod as you trace the floor with your eyes. "I just didn't want you to leave me."

You feel it then, the strong embrace of your boyfriend's arms, toned with his training and warm against your form. He sighs once again at your words as he rolls his eyes despite you not seeing. "You're an idiot you know that?" You laugh slightly against his chest as you relish the feeling of him after what felt like so long. Zoro doesn't know how to comfort; it was out of his capabilities but you felt it within his arms. His reassurance, his love and the fact that he had missed you too. Suddenly you are overcome with emotion at the fact that you let such small insecurity cause you to waste so much time with the man you adored. "M'sorry, it's just Usopp was saying and I-" Zoro tenses at your words releasing you as he stares into the depths of your eyes. "Usopp?" You freeze then, realising your mistake as you see his signature murderous aura extend from his form. "W-wait Zoro." But he has flown through the door quicker than you can force him to stay and you hear the darkly uttered words at the crew's sniper.

"Usopp, so this was all your fault huh?"

"W-wait [y/n]- tell him I didn't mean it, I'm sorry-"

You watch as he tries to evade your boyfriend's wrath but he merely sees the reason you have been sulking all week; why he had suffered the whole week. You just laugh at the comical sight, free of your doubt and reminded that despite your differences the both of you would be just fine.

[hitoshiyoshi]

birds of a feather | takami keigo

synopsis ↬ keigo adores your wings

warnings ↬ none ! a short idea of hawks and a winged reader, a few swear words

pairings ↬ takami keigo x winged!vigilante!reader

word count ↬ 4.5k

Working in Kyushu, Keigo was not a stranger to the impressive and unique quirks possessed by its citizens. Some strange and practically useless while others seemed to the epitome of wasted potential. He learned this all from observing the bustling city while perched at the highest points of skyscrapers. Staring down with his golden orbs, hidden from the view of cameras and nosy civilians. It felt refreshing to take a break. To exhale the stresses of the day and reminisce on his failures while hoping that tomorrow would be better. His red wings, although covered under the dark night sky, seemed to glow as they tucked into his body.

Keigo watched and waited for a call of despair. Someone to bring him out of his thoughts as he swooped down to aid them. Yet it never came, and for one night he could rest peacefully.

The morning soon approached, and he found himself lounging in Endeavor’s office. For the first time, his heavy wings seemed reluctant to unfold and fly to his destination. He didn’t want to return to the headquarters of Commission, that could wait until later. Keigo’s role model didn’t seem too pleased with his sudden desire to distract himself from work. He would’ve forced the young hero out of his office, but knowing how persistent Keigo is, Endeavor allowed him to stay.

Until the flatscreen television hanging on the brown walls began flashing with breaking news:

‘School Attacked by a Lone Villain in Kyushu. Students And Nearby Residents Injured’

Keigo could feel the blazing heat erupting from the skin of the older hero as they both watched on, stunned. A chilling sense of guilt erupted through his spirit. While the town he swore to protect was crumbling, he was nowhere present. A news anchor reported that the heroes in the area were in need of assistance and the Number 2 hero was missing. Unlike his usual demeanor, Keigo was too transfixed on the bright screen to listen to his surroundings. The young hero that seemed to take life too 'fast' found his wings bound and stiff, scared yet unmotivated to move.

“Endeavor, the heroes in Kyushu are requesting back up!” A lime-green haired sidekick burst through the door unannounced. The flames on her head flickered in distress and anguish. “There are reports of more villains in the area!”

“Got it. Dispatch the other sidekicks to Kyushu.” Endeavor turned his head towards Keigo, who was surprisingly still resting in his office. “Hawks? Hawks...?”

Calling the avian hero’s name was a waste; the words went in one of his ears and out the other. Instead, his eyes were glued to the screen. As every second passed, there were new images and updates appearing. Keigo’s shattering heart failed to take notice of Endeavor’s presence. His wings began to seize up briefly; they weren't moving but felt as if they were constricting his lungs.

As he soon began to reawaken from his thoughts of self-loathing, a picture emerged on the television that regained his attention — even making the flame hero next to him stare on in curiosity:

There you were, arms full and clutching numerous children as you escaped the burning school behind them. Each of them clung to your body in desperation as if it would be their last day. You pulled them closer to you in a painfully tight embrace while shielding them from the explosion behind, too scared that they would somehow injure themselves. As the image zoomed out, he felt his heart jitter at the sight of falling feathers coming off your back.

Your wings expanded and stretched out covering the students in your arms. The size could easily compete with his own; Keigo was certain that you surpassed him in width. You were holding them mid-flight, suspended in the air and fleeing from chaos. He didn’t understand why your face filled with an expression of pain until he noticed orange patches of flames cover some of your feathers. He knew from his own experience that they would eventually turn to ashes, but you didn’t seem to care.

In the photo, your face was covered by the dust and rubble of exploding debris. Your head tilted downwards, only displaying a large frown and gritted teeth. Some wounds on your body gushed with blood — a sharp contrast to the children who were unscathed under the shield of your wings. Only your body, which unnaturally contorted in an oddly graceful position, could be seen clearly. Your clothing was a cheaply made costume. It was quite obvious that you weren't a professional or well-known, but your movements showed nothing but pure skill.

The news aired more videos of the attack, your wings were the center of attention for Keigo's eyes. After rescuing the children in your arms, you immediately flew back into the school. Moving too fast for the camera, too fast for Keigo to see your face and majestic movements. Only a blur of your wings was captured by the cameras. You kept going, although your body ached. While the heroes in Kyushu were too busy keeping the villains at bay, your prime focus became saving the lives of the children.

Endeavor's fingers wrapped tightly around Keigo's arm before shaking him violently to pull him out of his trance. He shouted at the younger man and dragged him from his seat to accompany the rest of his sidekicks on their quick trip to Kyushu.

As his wings braced the harsh sky, they flew with an unknown sense of vigor. Soaring past tall skyscrapers that blocked his route to your destination. A glimmer of red was the only thing caught by the eyes of passersby. Keigo desperately wanted to know your identity and see you flying in person.

When he landed on the scene, one of the first heroes to arrive, the cries of some injured civilians first caught his attention. Red feathers plucked from his wings hooked under each person, raising them off the ground, and taking them to safety. Endeavor, his sidekicks, and other heroes dealt with the villains causing terror while Keigo and a few others prioritized rescue. Bustling to try and aid every wounded person, he couldn’t help but search for your majestic wings in the process.

You were no where to be found.

Vanishing into the cloudy sky once you finished your duties of the day. You made sure every single student was cared for and taken out of the building to a safe location. As if his luck was nonexistent, you took off just as he landed. If his gaze was focused on the clouds, he would’ve seen you floating above them like an angel.

The rescue finished with ease and all of the villains responsible were captured. Another routine day on the job for the others, but not for Keigo. The image of your expanded wings covering the children replayed in his mind over again, making a chill run down his spine and causing his wings to shudder. Of course, he wasn’t the only being mesmerized by your heroic performance.

From the media, to hero agencies looking to scout you, and to the parents of the students you saved wanting to thank you; everyone was transfixed on learning about the new avian hero. You were the first to arrive before anyone else, faster than Keigo who received harsh criticism for his disappearance. There was no hero name assigned to you and every single picture of you in action had your blurred your face.

The headlines of the news for the following days of the attack only focused on you:

‘Unknown Hero Bravely Rescues Students from Blazing Building’

‘Has A New Avian Hero Appeared? Shocking Details Emerge of Kyushu’s Next Hero Who Saved Children Resulting in No Casualties’

‘Is The New Winged-Hero Related to Hawks? Reports From Kyushu Believe That They Will Become His Replacement’

Of course, you were now obviously linked with Keigo. His coincidental arrival after your departure only caused these rumors to spread like wildfire. Various ones suggesting that you two were siblings or even married. Neither was true. You’d never met him before, only seeing him on television a few times just like he saw you.

Upon arriving to Commission’s headquarters, Keigo demanded a search for you. At first, they seemed reluctant but seeing his frantic state, they obliged. After extensive searching, finally they managed to retrieve a profile of someone who matched your details to a perfection. The giveaway being your stunning wings outstretched for a mandatory photo displaying your quirk.

Your name, address, age, and birthplace were all accessible for him to see. To his surprise, you weren’t from Kyushu — only passing through the town briefly. Your movements were always sporadic, a new town every few days and rarely captured on camera. Apparently, there were other sightings of your wings during minor altercations with villains or civilians in danger. Yet, you constantly wore a mask that covered your entire face. Then, Keigo realized…

You were a vigilante.

Unlicensed 'heroes' that acted without focusing on the law; no wonder Commission tried to keep you a secret from him. Although you wanted to stay hidden, they managed to collect vast amounts of information about you. Every single detail they could get their hands on. Apparently, they wanted to offer you a position as a hero under them, just like Keigo. To train and mold you under his wing; each display of your actions made them more interested in you.

In exchange, any pending charges on you for your illegal hero work would be erased. There was no way you could refuse, and even if you did, they would keep pressing. You were an opportunity that no one wanted to waste.

Commission last captured you entering a small clinic in Kyushu. Keigo figured you were still in the area, the burns to your wings were too severe for you to ignore. You weren’t seen leaving any exit of the clinic; it was only a matter of time before you flew off into the clouds again.

His wings moved before his mind was set. Unsure of where you were, Keigo knew he had to find you before you disappeared again. It wasn’t possible for you to go far, he thought. The burns on your wings made him wince; it was the enemy of your kind. Flying past the tall skyscrapers and through the dark sky clouding over Kyushu. Keigo’s flaw was being fast, just ‘too fast’. Not even his own sidekicks could keep up.

The clinic was in his view, right under him. A few of his usual fan girls screamed out his name once they saw him land. The Commission would be on him any minute if they knew what he did — a quick greeting before brushing past the eager fans wanting pictures and autographs.

There was no time, you had to be here. Just as he came to the front door, Keigo was spotted by another fan working inside.

“Hawks!? What are you doing here?” A receptionist asked, nearly spilling her drink. “Do you need help?”

“No, no… I’m looking for someone.” Keigo proceeded to tell her about you, your appearance, and the majestic wings that took his breath away.

“They were just here a minute ago. You’re too late. They wanted treatment for their wounds but refused to give identification.”

Too late. The first time he’s ever heard those words used in the same sentence as his name.

“Shit.” The receptionist kept pressing him, but Keigo was already behind. “Thanks, but I need to go.”

As soon as the cold night’s air hit his face, he was in the air. Extending his crimson wings at their full length as he entered the sky. Keigo scanned every corner and rooftop he could. You needed medication for your wings, so you most likely couldn’t fly. It shouldn’t be hard to spot you, if that was the case. The blinding lights of Kyushu strained his tired eyes, he wouldn't have a problem with that on a usual workday.

Where could you be? Always just a few seconds faster than he was, but he couldn't seem to catch up. Keigo pushed through his aching eyes; surely there was no way he would miss you again.

The glimmer of your wings caught his attention first, and then he saw you. They were tightly bandaged together, along with a few scars presumably from when you rescued those kids. You walked down a dark alley between some rundown buildings. Keigo took a chance, swooping down right into the alley with you.

"Hey," You heard Keigo land with a gust of wind sweeping under your feet. He didn't seem to appreciate your refusal to acknowledge him.

"What?" Every time you turned on the television or opened your phone, you saw him. Of course, you knew who he was.

"Gosh, do you know how hard it was to find you, baby bird? You could at least give me a warmer welcome." Keigo smirked up at you with his hand outstretched. Don't tell me he wants a hug or something, you thought.

"What do you want?" The answer to that... he wasn't sure.

"Jus' wanna have a talk with you," He points out to your wounds. "What happened to those pretty wings of yours?"

"Why do you need to know?"

Truthfully, you had no intention being rude to him, but the entire encounter made you feel odd. The flashy heroes like Hawks were the ones you disliked the most. Sure, you could respect them for their dedication and diligence, but something about it was off-putting. You didn't want to sound like Stain — you didn't think they should be killed for it — the legitimacy of their work frustrated you the most.

"I'm sure your aware of the villain attack at the school that occurred a few days ago." His tone changed, no longer sounding as friendly as he did in the beginning. "You were there, weren't you?"

"I was." Those damn reporters and their cameras. Trying to cover your face during the entire time was enough of a problem.

"Then I'm sure your aware vigilantism is illegal."

"I know. I'm willing to take that risk."

"Then let's make this easy for ourselves. I don't want to report you." Feathers fall from his wings, pointed directly at you and ready to act.

"You're really gonna fight me?"

Now, you realize why you have a disdain for heroes like him. They always acted like puppets for the law, who didn't really have a care in the world for them. To risk your life in such a pointless way. Rules are rules, fine. But how could you agree to those regulations when they impeded your morality?

"If I don't have to, I won't." If he tried, it would be over quickly. Your wings can't do much in attack, only for rescues and fleeing. They are bound to your back and if you ran, he would surely catch you.

"Seriously? I don't believe you."

"Why would I try anything? You and I are the same." Keigo didn't want to hurt you, but his job left no choice if you resisted. "I don't believe in kicking a dead man down."

It's not often that he sees someone with the same quirk as him. Keigo won't let such a pretty bird like you slip under his fingers again, just like in the past. He has you here now, and he refuses to let you out of his sight — no matter what happens.

"Then? How do you suggest we solve this?"

"Those wings won't heal if you keep them like that. I know you're trying to treat them on your own." His feathers return to his wings, and he stretches his arms out in a welcoming manner. "If you come with me, I can help heal them."

"No thanks, I'm not stupid enough to fall for that." You start to turn away from him, but he calls for you.

"I'd never tell a lie to you, birdie. I can take you to my house and give you any medicine I have. If you change your mind, just tell me and I'll let you go."

On a normal day, you would've gone home and treated yourself, but these burns were taking forever to heal. It could easily become an infection if you weren't careful. You sighed, bracing yourself for your arrest and the end of your career as a vigilante. Keigo wouldn't let his happiness slip out as you reluctantly nodded along to his agreement.

In a swift move, he lifts you up bridal-style off the ground and takes off into the night again. It's been too long since you had flown, Keigo has pity on you. Although, this was your first time being carried in this way. He was gentle and soared slow enough for you to take in the beauty of the city at night; you've always been 'too fast for your own good'.

Seeing your eyes fill with wonder at the sight of the city, Keigo says, "I take it you don't fly here often?"

"Usually, I don't. I try not to get spotted. Can't really stay in one place for a long time."

"It's a shame, pretty bird. I'm not sure what I would do if I lost my wings like that."

"Whatever, they'll grow back."

"That's not what I mean," He dips down, expanding his wings for a soft landing. "Those who can fly, should fly. We shouldn't keep ourselves trapped to the ground."

Keigo sets you down carefully. He lands just outside a small building in a region of Kyushu that you haven’t explored yet. Scanning the environment, it’s quiet here; the noise of traffic is faint and hardly any citizens walk freely. You can hear the soft sounds of crickets chirping nearby. It wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing environment, but it was suitable for the peace Keigo needed.

He leads you to the front door, you two walk to the side of the building. The entrance is tucked away, out of the view of any passersby — although there seemed to be none. Keigo briefly thought about bringing you back to the ‘fake’ apartment Commission gave him when he first started working for them, but the idea was quickly shot down. Who knows if that place had been bugged?

The flights of stairs downwards and the maze of hallways makes your head spin. Ah, fuck. He was probably taking you to some secret place where the police would ambush you or some shit. If it wasn’t obvious to you now, it was certainly over.

When you reach the entrance of his apartment, he fumbles in his pockets for the keys. After unlocking the door, Keigo motions for you to go in first — he was trying to be a gentleman of course. You refused to move though, and he couldn’t blame you. He would be on the edge too if he were you.

He took the first step inside his apartment. The familiar scent of his surroundings made his mind ease, but only for a second.

There were no other people inside, as you previously thought. It didn’t take much to realize this, anyways. The whole apartment lacked something essential, furniture. For such a flashy hero, you were shocked. Surely this wasn’t his. The living room only contained a rug, a small desk on top of it, and a singular cushion for him to sit.

You peek around the corner to find the kitchen, the only appliances are an electric tea kettle and a microwave. There was no need for you to look through his other rooms; you already had an idea of what they might look like.

“Jus’ let me grab my first-aid kit first.” He ushers you to sit down on the soft cushion.

There’s a small night table in the corner of the room. The lamp on the table and ceiling light were the only sources of light in the whole room. His home is located underground, there are no windows. It didn’t seem real at first, you thought he was lying to you.

Keigo opens the drawer and pulls out a first-aid kit. Most of the items have been used, but thankfully you don't need those. Commission purposefully included medication that was needed to help manage his wings.

"It feels like an asylum in here." You manage to say, trying to feel at ease in the cramped space.

"I don't spend much time in here, so I never felt the need to decorate." Keigo walks to you, holding a jar of ointment in his hand.

Carefully, you remove the bandages — some are completely red and damp with blood. When did it get this bad? You were used to enduring the pain, but maybe you took it too far?

"Doesn't it feel lonely in here?"

"Well, not if I've been working all day." Keigo tries to apply the substance to your wings, but he pauses at the sight. It was hard to believe that the once grandiose wings that protected those victims, could get ruined like this. "Dove, you haven't taken good care of yourself..."

His voice sounds... disappointed. You haven't dealt with an injury like this before and your friends, who were also vigilantes, had no idea how to care for you. That was how rare bird-types like you and Hawks were. A once in a lifetime encounter, especially in Kyushu.

"I realize that now..."

"This might hurt a little. I'm all out of painkillers." He really doesn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice. "There's too much blood. They didn't heal properly." A sharp stinging pain erupts in all the places he's plucked your feathers. Keigo places them in a small pile on the ground.

Finally, he can some flesh that's been hiding under your feathers. Raw and charred from the fire. Keigo applies the ointment on his fingertips before massaging it into your skin, gently. Your body tenses up at the uncomfortable feeling, but it isn't anything that you aren't used to. Once he's finished, he wraps the wounded areas in new bandages while allowing for some to breathe.

"Thanks..." You rest on the floor for a while. Keigo puts away all his materials back to their spot.

A few minutes pass; you two have started a new conversation now. He tries to ask more about your personal life, but you gave vague answers. Despite the fact that he was kind enough to heal you, you still couldn't trust him. Keigo makes his home more welcoming for you; there's no need for you to worry about the Commission or police, they don't know about the secret home he's made for himself. In fact, you were the first guest to enter — not even brief hookups or close friends knew.

Keigo was aware that it was wrong. If Commission learned that he allowed a vigilante to become this close to him, they would light a fire under his ass. Yet, he got rush from it all. This whole time, he was worried about his impression on you, but could he even trust you? It wouldn't be a smart choice for you to deceive him under these circumstances. There was something about you that he found exciting — the fact that you were not caged.

Free to stretch your wings as far as they could go without being held back by any institution, Keigo was jealous. Not a care in the world; nothing to hold you back from helping those in need.

Simply being near you gave Keigo a surge of adrenaline that he wanted to be high on, forever. He's already decided that he wants to keep you. After all, he can't help but get what he wants.

When you were finally ready to leave in the morning, he just couldn't accept that. Following you around on his free time like a lost fawn. Didn't he have work to do? He tells you it's all assigned to his sidekicks and someone name Tsukuyomi, there's no need for you to worry. You aren't interested in a friendship. Well, you might’ve considered if he hadn't been so pushy. At first, Keigo claimed it was just a way for him to monitor your progress with healing. But as your feathers grew back over the next few days, fuller than before, he wouldn't budge.

Of course, Commission has kept their eyes on him. It's against the code of conduct for a hero to be aware of a vigilante, but refuse to turn them in. Whichever way he wanted to look at it, the entire relationship shouldn't have gone this far. Surely, he would've been scolded by the Commission at some point. Keigo came up with the perfect lie:

"It's just for work and nothin' else. We could make a great team. It's a good opportunity now that we have been trying to scout them for so long..."

It was true; Commission had their eyes on you for a while now, even willing to overlook your lack of licensing. They were capable of pulling a few strings, just for you. Even considering forging documents and finding loopholes in the system to exploit and have you on their team. Each time, you declined. Keigo had respect for you. He didn't have much of a choice on his outcome in life. He gave you praises for being firm.

All he needed to do was win you over.

His detective skills were immaculate. After you completely healed your wings, you went back to your vigilante work. Thankfully, your schedules were too conflicting for him to keep up. As he was making progress with the League of Villains, he had less time dedicated to you. That took a while, you thought. Now it was all over...

Hawks was one persistent fucker. What he wants, he gets. That was certainly a strong motto to live by. It didn't take long for him to hear news of villain attacks. He always learns of it first; news travels fast, just like him. They all happened to be villains you were fighting and investigating — he really went out of his way to screw up your work. You couldn't do anything with all these heroes around!

Each time, he soared with you in his arms. Pretending as if it was the first time he'd ever flown with you. He knew you could handle yourself at this point, but he just wouldn't let go this time. Scooping you up like a damsel in distress. You tried to slap his arms away, but he wouldn't budge. Even if it was difficult for him to fly with your heavy wings taking most of the space, Keigo didn't mind. Fed up, you slapped his chest and ordered him to put you down:

"Hawks! Put me down! God, why can't you leave me alone?" This time, you yell into his chest as he pulls you tighter to him.

"There's a simple answer for that, dove. I want to say that we're the same. But that's just not true, you're more resilient than me." Keigo slows down and lands on top of the highest point of a tall, skyscraper. He won't give up and release you, though. "Birds of a feather, gotta stick together, right?"

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Lookalike (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...

Warnings: Oh man. What a trip. Rapunzel, innocence kink, daddy issues, cursing, mature language. Light groping, kissing. Daemon, and all his usual warnings. Manipulation. I tried to make it whimsical. You know, a fairy tale.

Requested: Yup. For the bingo. Daemon + retelling of another story. Posted it early because I couldn't sleep last night so I stayed up finishing this.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called Westeros, lived a King and a Queen. The Queen was a beautiful woman, with hair made of spun silver and gold.

The King and the Queen had a daughter, a bright girl called Rhaenyra. They loved her deeply, but as many powerful men behind him, the King could not help but wish for a son.

When the Queen had carried Rhaenyra, her pregnancy had been harsh. She had struggled to fall with child, and when she had, she had been sick the whole time. The Queen was not too sure if she could withstand another pregnancy.

“My love, I need my heir.” The King said to her. “You must help me and try again.”

“But husband, you know we cannot. The Maester said pregnancies were too rough on me."

“If I can't have my heir, I fear I will lose my throne!”

So the Queen decided to try again. Soon, she was with child. Yet, the Queen could feel something was different, this time. She got twice as large as she was when she was carrying Rhaenyra, her body ached even more. Only the hottest baths could soothe her abundant pains.

“This pregnancy is not normal, not normal at all.” Said the Maester, when examining the Queen. “I fear the delivery will be hard.”

And hard it was. For there was not one baby but two. A girl and a boy, a moon and a sun. The parents only found out when the Queen was unable to deliver the baby, and the King, believing it to be his precious heir, ordered the Maester to cut her open.

Wailing into the world they came, shrieks so loud they rose half the Red Keep. Every bell in the city was toiling for them. The King named his heir Baelon. The girl, the little moon, was forgotten. That was you.

Too young to know it then, your first hours were spent in your sister's arms, both of you forgotten in favor of the new heir. But it was barely hours at all when your little brother passed away.

At the funeral, the King was the picture of despair. His Queen was dead by his hand, his heir lasted no longer than a day. Now a father to a baby girl he didn’t know how to care for, and an unruly maiden.

Perhaps, sensing his despair and hoping to offer some words of comfort, and Arryn cousin took you from him and gasped:

“By the Sevens! If she is the very image of Aemma as a babe.” No one took in consideration that this Arryn cousin was not, in fact, older than the Queen.

“Is she?” The King asked, on the verge of tears. Your father could not stop remembering your mother’s face, as the Maester aided your entrance into the world. Her cries haunted him even in his sleep. He was turning into a decaying corpse, from inside out, guilt rotting him alive. “Rhaenyra, come here.”

“Father?”

“Does she look like your mother?”

Your sister squinted at you. You yawned, a toothless, sweet thing. Rhaenyra wasn't very knowledgeable about babes, but she liked you. You had grabbed into her finger the first time you had seen her, tiny fingers turning into the most adorable rings.

“She has her beauty.” She answered, politely. The King hummed, an idea sparkling into his head. Soon, the highest tower in the Red Keep was being repurposed, and the Hand relocated.

Nine and ten years later, that brings us to you, in a continent named Westeros. Inside it, Seven Kingdoms. Inside them, a city called King's Landing. Inside the city is a castle. In the castle, a tower. In the tower is a room. In the room, a girl. You.

You stared at your reflection, squaring your shoulders. You gave yourself a big smile.

“Father, I want to try claiming a dragon.” You repeated to the mirror, before shaking your head. “No, no. Too disrespectful. Lord Father, I was wondering if I could go and try to claim a dragon?”

The reflection did not answer. You frowned. You didn't like groveling, but you weren't too sure of what else you could do. Perhaps, sending him a note would be better.

As the youngest sister of the heir to the Iron Throne, you had led a sheltered life. Even more so, as the spitting image of his late wife, according to your father. When looked in the right light, your eyes were the same shade hers had been. And the way you spoke did resemble the short, clipped speech of the Vale.

No one dared question those things, even though your accent had been ensured by your father by providing you with tutors only from that region. The King was very protective of you, set on expiating his guilt over the death of your mother by ensuring your safety.

All of your care had been provided by him after her death. Viserys knew nothing about child-rearing, but refused to let any servant touch you beyond the wet nurse. You grew into a child, and your father didn't even know how to cut your long, silver hair.

Years passed, and soon you learned to take care of yourself. Used to long hair as you were, you never thought about cutting it. Instead, your mind was preoccupied with more urgent matters. For example, how could you get out of the Red Keep.

Sometimes, your father's protection turned overbearing. Unlike your older sister, you were not allowed to leave the castle. Nor had you been allowed to partake in the activities other young ladies did. The only way you had managed to know the world around you had been through your books and observations.

Your rooms were in the tallest tower in the Red Keep, ensuring you would be kept safe from intruders and even invaders, if such a thing ever came to pass. You had double the guards Rhaenyra and Viserys did. Instead of providing his new Queen with a sworn shield, he had chosen to devote all the Kingsguard to you.

While you knew your tower had been used for other things before, it had clearly been refurnished. Now, it worked as a castle of its own, inside which you had a tiny kitchen, bathing quarters, rooms, and a library. The idea was that you would never need anything outside it. A tiny universe, just for you. You had plenty of space for your books and trinkets, but it made for a lonely existence.

Each time there were unknown men roaming the Keep, you got sent back to your tower. Your father didn't like the idea of you being married off or corrupted by them. You were too precious, too good. He had said that when the day came, he would find you a good match. One that, you suspected, would keep you close to home. Perhaps Aegon, or one of your cousins in the Vale.

If you married at all, of course. Your father had gone through a phase of encouraging your faith in the Seven, in the hopes of you deciding to be a Septa. If you did, the King would be most pleased, for it would mean you would never suffer the same fate as your mother.

You wanted neither. What you wanted more than anything was to see the world, do the things Rhaenyra told you happened outside the Red Keep. And according to you, it would all get started if you got your own dragon.

With a dragon, you would be protected. Your father always used your lack of one as an argument for denying you the experiences ladies your age had. Your egg had not hatched, but if you claimed one, you would surely be allowed to leave.

Unfortunately, what was required to be able to bond with a dragon had been deemed too dangerous for you. King Viserys had banned you from the dragon pit, arguing that dragons could be unpredictable.

Today, you had been sent back to your tower due to an impromptu visit from your Uncle Daemon. You knew the man by reputation only, by how much he angered your father. If there was one person who you were prohibited from speaking to, it was him.

You had heard the rumors, of course. A few years back, after your mother's passing, he had taken Rhaenyra to a pleasure house. Whatever had happened inside was between her and him. To your father, though, it was enough to keep you away from him.

Smile. Square your shoulders. Try again to assert yourself. You eyed your reflection once again, wondering how you could convince the King to let you try to get a dragon. Outside, something scraped against a rock, again and again. Curious, you went to the window.

On the very base of your tower, there was a man hopelessly attempting to climb upwards. He was very dashing, sporting the same silver hair you did, only much shorter.

“Who are you?” You asked, slightly frightened. In truth, you were not used to strangers being so close to you. Your father always said men were dangerous, and that outside the Red Keep there were aberrant creatures, mean and ruthless, that hurt young maidens for their enjoyment. “Step away from my tower, or I shall call my guards!”

The man ignored you, choosing instead to stab a sword between the rocks that made up your tower. You screamed, alarmed.

“Stop that! That's not allowed, you are damaging my tower.”

The man ignored you, trying to use his sword to climb. He grunted in exertion. You ran towards your chambers and filled a jar with water. Then, you ran back to your window and dumped it on his head.

The man shrieked and fell down the few meters he had managed to progress. You laughed, startled.

“Aren't you a fearsome thing?” He muttered to himself. Then, he looked up at you, with the most purple eyes you had ever seen. “Please, Princess. Help me out.”

“Why should I? You are an intruder.” You glared down at him, not even entertaining the notion, but deciding to play along regardless. In truth, you were curious about him. And starved for companionship.

“I am being chased.” He screamed up at you, frantically looking behind him. “Please, help me.”

You leaned down towards your window, bracing your arms on the edge of it.

“Bad business, that.” Your voice was cheery and woefully uninterested. This was the most exciting that had happened to you in years, you were not about to stop it. But at the same time, you did remember all of your father's warnings. There were people out there that were not kind.

“Damn it, you are just like Aemma. Pair of cynics.” He cursed, and started to try to retrieve his sword. Your eyebrows raised.

“You knew my mother?”

The man looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. He squinted at you. His bone structure reminded you of someone.

“I did.”

Your mother. A cynic. You smiled. No one had ever told you about her, not beyond all those polite things everyone said about the dead. How kind she was, how beautiful and learned. It did nothing to make you feel closer to her, these empty platitudes. They were generic, they could be talking about any woman.

Your father never went beyond that, either. The Aemma he talked about was an idolized version of her, a woman frozen into a perfect state of likeness to the Mother. He didn't allow anyone to contradict him, not even Rhaenyra. When you were younger, she had told you your mother had been hesitant about having another pregnancy, and struggling to carry another baby to term. Your father had banned her from visiting you during the next six moons.

But this stranger was speaking of her as if he knew her well. Your heart ached to know more about your mother, know the real her. It was enough to help you make your choice. You gathered your hair and threw it down the window.

“Come up then.” You ordered.

The man looked at the mass of hair in bewilderment. He touched a strand of it, fascinated by the way it picked up the light. He did not move.

“Use it as rope. You won't hurt me.” Were all men so dumb? Surely, if this one was so slow, he could not be a threat.

“Of course. Magic hair. Fucking Viserys.” The man started to climb. He got quickly inside, panting with exertion.

“You know my father, too?” Your body tensed. This, you did not like. What if he was one of the men that were supposed to visit the castle today? One of those who corrupted and hurt young maidens?

Your heart started to beat harder and harder. You tried to convince yourself he might not be a bad man. Perhaps, he had met the King through your mother. Regardless, you turned away from him, keeping your voice and posture deceivingly calm.

“Would you like some water?” You did not wait for an answer, starting to move towards the kitchen. You reached into a cabinet, as if searching for a cup.

The man followed. You could hear his footsteps on the stone floor.

“I do know your father.” His voice was strange. As if he were realizing he was making a mistake but couldn't pinpoint why. Uninterested, you took out a cup. “He is a great King.” He added, hurriedly. Just in time for you to grab a pan, turn and smack it against his head as hard as you could.

The man dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You hiked up your skirts and rushed to his side. Kneeling by him, you took a closer look at his sword and grinned. You had seen it before. In your books. That was Dark Sister, Visenya's sword.

You had caught Daemon Targaryen. What better proof to show your father that you were not helpless? You tied him to a chair and gagged him for good measure. Then, you pushed him inside your bathing quarters. Only then did you call for a guard.

“Could you summon my father? I need him.” The guard bowed, but didn't speak. Most of them didn't. Your father said they weren't allowed to.

Despite not receiving an answer, you knew your father would be here soon. He always came when you called. You placed a kettle in the fire. Before it could boil, King Viserys was already there.

“Dear.” The King kissed your forehead. You tried not to wrinkle your nose at the smell of herbs and milk of the poppy. Your father always smelled like a medicine cabinet. “As beautiful as your mother, like always.”

You smiled.

“Father. Tea is not ready yet, but sit.” You pointed to your small parlor. When you were a child, the two of you had used to pretend you were a great lady, hosting tea parties there. It had been how he had taught you courtly manners.

The memory was bittersweet. Your father was good to you. He had raised you as best as he could, loving you more fiercely than any of his other children. It was not your intention to upset him, but you knew this topic would do exactly that.

“Were you lonely, my heart?” The King settled on one of the loveseats. You sat across from him.

“I did miss you.” You gave him a coy little look. “But I asked you to come for something else.”

“Do tell.”

“Father. I think I am ready to claim a dragon.” You rushed to say, almost tripping over your words. Already, you could see how his expression was clouding over, a storm raging behind his eyes.

“You know you are not.” The King answered, sternly. “It's too dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.” You fought for your tone to remain even. If it came out too angered, your father would say you were hysteric or having a tantrum, and refuse to take you seriously. So was the curse of being a woman.

“My heart, you have never stepped out of this tower.”

And you had not. But what did dragons care about one's knowledge of the world? You had read about dragons bonding with babes, sharing their cradle with them. To claim one, being well traveled or wise was not required. One had to be chosen, that was all.

You raised your hands in the air, palms up, as if placating a beast.

“I don't want you to get upset, Father. I wanted to prove to you that I am capable, too.” You got up and opened the door to your bathing quarters. “Do not be scared.”

The bound Daemon was still gagged, inside the tub. This time, though, he was awake. Upon seeing his brother, he immediately started screeching and squirming, making up a ruckus.

“Shh.” You said to him, kicking the tub a little. He was turning out to be a very annoying guest. “As you can see, Father, I caught him.”

“And you put him in the tub.” The King said, perplexed.

“He was dripping water all over my floors.” But your explanations fall on deaf ears, since your father has already moved on from his shock. He grabbed Daemon's shirt, forcing him to sit upright.

“Haven't I told you this tower is out of limits?” The King barked at him. “I will throw you into the deepest, more dark and humid dungeon I can find, and then I will…”

“Father.” You did not like being ignored. Daemon was a secondary concern, you just wanted to know if you were allowed out now.

Yet, your father seems to think the issue was an entirely different thing.

“Oh. Sorry, dear. What father meant is that Uncle Daemon has been very bad.” He gave him a shake for good measure.

“I can tell.” Your tone was flat. “Have I proven myself enough to be allowed to try to claim a dragon?”

The King let go of Daemon. He turned towards you and tenderly started checking you over for injuries.

“I would die if something happened to you.” He answered, evasive. You didn't need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. It was too dangerous. It was a no.

Five more long days went by. Poor you, having to stay all day in your tower. After Daemon, your father had now deemed it too dangerous to allow you to roam the Red Keep. It was the tower and nothing more. All you could do was sing Old Valyrian songs and look out the windows. Sometimes, birds would chirp from above, and you would feel slightly better, as if they were singing with you.

Perhaps it had been your song, what had led him to you. Perhaps it had been his own guilty consciousness for a sin long forgotten, or a sliver of empathy for the lonely girl in the tower up above. Whatever it was, before the sixth day came to an end, Daemon appeared under your window.

“Princess, Princess, let your hair down.” You heard him say. You walked to your window, curiously. Daemon was back!

“Come down if you want to be free.” The Prince ordered. “I do not have much time.”

His words stilled you. Freedom. Your father often said freedom was a dangerous thing. If you let people make their own choices, it was much more likely that they would choose unwisely. That was why you were kept in the tower, safe from the world and bad decisions. As long as King Viserys controlled your life, you would be protected.

But what if you left? What if you ran, jumped out of your tower and made your way to Dragonstone to get your dragon? You imagined a version of yourself, dress fluttering in the wind like a flag as you ran, barefooted in the sand. You imagined yourself feeling the sun in your face, having your first cup of mead or watching a parade.

Then you imagined yourself tripping and falling into the sea. You didn't know how to swim. No one saw the need to teach you such a thing. You imagined yourself at the parade, getting robbed. You imagined a man, trying to hurt you. What if people out there, what if Daemon, were truly as wretched as your father said they were?

Your face must have shown your distress because Daemon, impatient, shouted something more.

“I won't hurt you.” The Prince raised his hands in surrender. “I will not tell you I am a good man, but I will take you to Dragonstone.”

His honesty was what sealed the deal. You threw your hair down, grabbed one of your warmest cloaks, and shouted for him to loop your hair around a branch and not let go.

Daemon obeyed. You jumped, and as your feet hit the floor, you wished to be able to say you didn't look back. But you did. And as you saw the silhouette of your tower getting smaller and smaller in the distance, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness deep in your chest.

Noticing how quiet you have gotten, Daemon adjusts your cloak and gives you a grin.

“Do you want to ride Caraxes?” He asks. You match his grin, sadness nearly forgotten. There is a whole world out here, begging to be explored. You can be sad later when the adventure ends.

Caraxes is the most bewitching creature you have ever seen. He is red and serpentine, looking so much like the drawings of dragons you used to do as a child. You nearly scream in excitement.

Daemon whispers to him to stay calm, but Caraxes seems to sense your happiness, for he keeps trying to correspond your loving pets.

“Oh, by the Seven Hells.” The Prince pushes you towards the saddle. “If neither of you stop the tail wagging, we are going to get caught.”

“And we don't want that.” You agree, kissing Caraxes' scales one last time.

Caraxes gives another excited, full-body wag. He seems to be preening under the attention. Daemon must not praise him very much, which is a shame.

“You are such a good boy. So pretty, too.”

Caraxes preens even more. It makes his body shake, tail hitting against the floor in an ominous beat. Daemon groans.

“Enough, enough.” The Prince grabs you by the waist and gets you up in the saddle. You shriek in laughter. Caraxes appears to be happy about it, too, since he starts spreading his wings. “We are going to get caught.”

Daemon jumps into the saddle, hugging you tightly to him. You squirm, unused to the closeness of another human being. When your father and Rhaenyra touch you, it's never like this.

Daemon feels overwhelming, in the best kind of way. His chest is firm, and his smell surrounds you. His arms around your waist hold you tight, but remain loose enough to not hurt you. Your hips fit snugly against his, and make something you can't yet name stir in your lower belly.

It's different. It's strange. You want it to stop. Why do you feel so nervous, as if Caraxes was suddenly dropping down and not barely getting ready to fly?

“Soves, Caraxes.” Daemon orders, careful not to scream in your ear. “Are you alright, little Princess?”

You cease your squirming, hoping that he doesn't notice whatever is different with you.

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“You keep squirming as if there were ants inside your bodice. Are you uncomfortable?” The Prince snickers by your ear, pressing a soft kiss right by the top of it. What happens next is impossible to hide. Your body gives a shiver, all of your hairs standing up. The sensation is as confusing as it is pleasant.

“My stomach feels funny.” You complain, knowing that it isn't exactly that, but close enough that he probably won't question it.

“Funny how?” Daemon kisses behind your ear. You make a hurt, confused noise. You have been kissed before, but never there. In your experience, kisses are not this devastating.

“Funny.” You refuse to elaborate because while naive, you are not dumb. This must be precisely why your father wanted you away from men. If they were able to inflict so much pleasure, it was no wonder why maidens let them do whatever they wanted to them.

“Does it hurt, little Princess?” One of his palms goes to your lower stomach, pressing slightly. “Here?”

You squirm. So he definitely knows.

“Yes.”

“Hurts? Or…?” Daemon's hand goes dangerously low, nearly pressing between the parting of your legs. You squirm more. He brushes something that makes you jolt, delighted.

“We shouldn't.” You answer. It would be much more convincing if you were not relaxing into him. He laughs right in your ear, but retracts his hand.

Even with his hands away from your most sensitive areas, you still feel worked up. Your bodice is too rough against your skin, the way Caraxes moves under both of you makes the area between your legs tingle.

You keep your eyes firmly on the sky in front of you. As it starts to change into pinks and yellows, the feeling ebbs and starts to fade. You feel sleepy, so you recline more against Daemon. A tiny yawn escapes you.

“Tired?” Daemon brushes your hair back, much more tenderly than your father would. With your father, the touch is always harsher, more possessive. As if he is always grasping to the last threads of Aemma he can hold. With Daemon, it feels like he is actually touching you.

You hum, soft and sweet.

“Sleep, little one.” He kisses your cheek. “I'll wake you up when we get there.”

The next time you wake up, it is in an unknown bedroom. At first, you panic. The canopy over the bed looks too similar to the one in your tower, and you wonder if perhaps you dreamed it all. Daemon, Caraxes, the flight, your feelings. Then, you get even more scared because the more you look, the more you realize this is not your room.

You get out of bed. You are still dressed in the same dress you were wearing earlier, but your shoes are gone. The door is closed. Fear grips at you. What if Daemon has sold you to someone evil and rotten, as your father says people outside the Red Keep are? What if he is the evil man?

You rush to the door. It opens easily. There is a hallway that looks much like the ones in the Red Keep, but there is no one there. You scream in fear.

Another of the doors opens in the hallway. Daemon, in a sleeping shirt and breeches, runs out.

“Princess!” He hurries to your side. You are crying, you realize, as he wipes away some of your tears. “What is it?”

“I woke up alone, and I didn't recognize…” You sob, softly.

“Oh, little girl.” Daemon scoops you in his arms. “I should have thought of that. I am so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you look at him, eyes swollen from your crying.

The world had impressed you during the day, but now that the night had fallen, and you found yourself in an unknown castle, you were afraid. What if there were monsters lurking in the hallways? Or if you needed something? What if someone hurt you?

“I do not want to go back there. I am scared.” You rubbed your eyes. Your hands dug into his arm, not wanting to let go of him.

“Do you wish me to keep you company while you fall back asleep?” Daemon asked, gently smoothing your hair down. You must look a mess, and would find it embarrassing were it not for the fact that being alone in such a big place terrifies you. At this point, you would do anything to keep him here.

“Please.” No more words are needed. Daemon doesn't want you to beg, nor does he want anything in exchange. It's comforting.

One of his hands goes to your shoulder blades, leading you back to the room. Daemon tucks you in and sits by your side.

“I'll stay until you fall asleep.” He says, smoothing down your frown with the gentlest touch. Daemon starts to hum in High Valyrian, softly. You know the melody. It's about flames and burning together. Almost against your will, your eyelids start to drop.

“Don't… Don't want you to go.” Your body feels so heavy, as if sinking into the mattress. With great effort, you manage to curl your fingers around one of his.

“Oh, Princess.” He says, interlacing your hands.

“Stay.” You order.

Daemon lets go of your hand, and you whine, awake instantly. You go to sit up, but he shushes you.

“Shh. I am just… Let me.” He slides under the covers, behind you. You close your eyes, trying to relax against him. It's no hardship at all. Now that the candles have been blown, the light is low and Daemon feels so warm against you.

He starts to trace your features. Finger meets brow, temple, cheek. Thumb brushes nose, then lips. Idly, so very idly, his voice mutters near your ear.

“How many mouths has yours kissed?”

The question startles you. You suppose there is no harm in telling him, yet there is a tinge of embarrassment over it, too. It has finally dawned on you what this new, uncomfortable, thrilling feeling is. Desire. You lust after Daemon.

“I have…” You answer, softly. You do not dare speak it out loud. Not when you rather know exactly how far the two of you are. “How about you?”

“I have lost count. Twenty, perhaps more so.” Daemon says it so casually, as if it did not matter at all. But to you, it does. What are you, compared to this man? How could you want him in such a manner, having so little to offer?

“What makes it special, then?” There has to be a reason for him to bother with kissing all these people. Perhaps, to him, all kisses feel as devastating as his does to you.

“The person, I would gather.” The Prince answers, softly rubbing your back as one would do to help a child fall asleep. You frown. It does make sense. You know what love is, after all. Being in love with someone, or at least desiring them, must make it special.

You would like to kiss him, you think. Daemon is handsome, and his touch does not feel as damning as other's do. He has already provided you with pleasure, even if unknowingly.

You make a wish, then. For your first kiss to be special, with someone you like and that knows what they are doing. If not Daemon, at least someone like that.

“Was your first special?” You ask, curious.

“No. She was terrible. Sharp teeth and all.” Daemon moves your hair aside, exposing your neck. You barely get any warning before he is taking a bite out of your nape. For a playful gesture, it's oddly painful. Your body tenses, and you try to fight it, but Daemon's hands are like a vice around your waist. “Like this.”

With no other choice, you ride it out. Pain is nearly unfamiliar to you, beyond small cuts or painful cycles. It's scorching red and hot, making you break into a sweat. Daemon forces you to take, and take, gently holding your hands in his. It's only after that you go limp under him, twitching slightly, that he lets up.

The aftermath of pain is sweet, you learn. Daemon kisses around the painful bite and blows a raspberry behind your ear. Now that he has let go of your nape, you find out that the pain was not so bad. You are not even bleeding.

“You are such a good girl.” Daemon praises. “So strong. I'm so proud of you.”

You preen as if you were Caraxes, delighted to make him feel proud of you. Daemon smiles against your temple, as if amused by you, and presses a little kiss there. It’s so tender, and so loving, a sharp contrast to his earlier behavior. It makes you feel as if you were once again on dragonback.

“Could you kiss me?” The words escape out of your mouth, without any real thinking. You know they are the wrong thing to say as soon as they leave your mouth.

Daemon pulls away from you. A hurt, confused noise leaves your throat, hands desperately searching back for his warmth.

“Oh, little Princess.” Daemon mutters, tone full of regrets. “I should not.”

“Why not?” You complain. You are not used to being denied so. The only times others do not bend to your will, you get what you want by your own means. Case in point, leaving your tower. Your father had said no, so you had ensured it happened by other means.

“I have done…. What I have done to you, why I took you…” Suddenly, it is as if an icy hand has taken hold of your throat and started to suffocate you. Betrayal settles over your features, overpowering it all.

“You are only doing this to piss off my father.” You say, shocked. Daemon raises his hands, trying to interrupt you, but you halt him with an imperious wave. “You had no intention of taking me to the dragons. You sought to ruin my reputation, as you did Rhaenyra's.”

“No, Princess, no.” Daemon shakes his head. You get up from the bed, angered. He does not try to stop you. “I swear I didn't mean for anything untoward to happen.”

“I bet you said that back then, too.” You retort. You have half a mind to do something crazy. To grab the fire poker and smash his head with it, to set the whole place on fire. You want to make him hurt.

“I… I did mean to anger your father.” Daemon admits, still trying to placate you. It only makes you wish to scream and scream and never stop. “But I do think it is a shame not to let you even try. Dragons are your birthright. Denying you is unnatural.”

You glare at him. You are unconvinced of the truthfulness of his words. Your father was right. You were unprepared for the world, and it couldn't show more. Daemon has tricked you as easily as if he were taking candy from a babe.

“I'll take you there regardless. I promised to.” His eyes are pleading, but you do not wish to hear him, or see him any longer. Instead, you sit in front of the vanity and look at yourself.

The long, silver hair. The scared eyes. The night, the first you have of freedom, is spent utterly cold and miserable. You stare at yourself and stare at yourself until you think you are going mad.

Daemon does not say a word. He doesn't leave the room, either. Perhaps he falls asleep at some point, perhaps he does not.

You look at your reflection again. You look at your hair. Silver, like his. The lovely color Daemon loves so much. Long, and braided back, flaunting your maidenhood and youth. Forever your father's little girl, never allowed to grow, to love, to lust.

A braid that long won't allow you to claim a dragon. You are more likely to set yourself on fire or trip on it. It's that thought that gives you the determination needed to do what needs to be done.

In the first drawer of the vanity there are a few miscellaneous ribbons. There is also a pair of scissors. You grab it, and grab your braid. You chop it off. As it falls from your shoulder, you feel a weight lift off from you. No longer your nape is heavy with the weight of all these expectations laying on you.

There is a woman staring at you, from the mirror. She looks like she is getting ready for war, eyes alight with determination. You stare at the contours of her face, mesmerized by what you see. All traces of Aemmas's ghost are gone from your reflection. You look more like yourself than you have ever done.

Daemon is up at sunrise. He may have been watching you chop all your hair off and expose the lovely bite mark that now mars the skin of your nape. He may have been sleeping. Whatever it is, he doesn't say a word about your change of appearance, choosing instead to dress in silence.

“Off we go.” He says, briskly, leading you out of the castle. Daemon points to a hill in the distance. “But after that, you are on your own.”

You are suddenly filled with doubt, the determination you had felt when looking in the mirror dissipating under the morning light. Your stomach clenches. Your legs are sore, unused to the exercise of riding. The bite on your neck burns.

"I do not feel ready to claim a dragon.” You say to him, as you get closer and closer to the hill. You feel like a fool. What if your father is right? What if you end this escapade with nothing to show but a ruined reputation?

“You are.” Daemon answers, barely paying attention. It makes you angry beyond belief. To make your mood known, you stomp over a few leaves, grinding them to dust under your heel. Ugh. Why were you looking to him for reassurance in the first place? It was not like Daemon wanted to help you. He just wanted to make himself feel less guilty over trying to cause a scandal and kill your father from the fright.

“I am not.” It’s almost as if you can hear the voice of your father in your head, telling you exactly why no dragon would bond with you. You are a fool, you are a little girl, you…

“You are a Targaryen.” Daemon interrupts your trail of thought with a squeeze to your nape. Right over the bite. It makes your knees nearly buckle. “You were born ready.”

“But what if it isn't enough? What if they see me, and don't want me? I am not brave, like Rhaenyra, or cunning like you or learned like my father. ”

“They will.” Daemon says. “Because you are strong here.” He taps your sternum. “And your father is a fool for not seeing it.”

You look at him. Past the guilt, past the acting up to get your father's attention. His eyes are nervous, but they hold the same steely determination yours had earlier. Daemon believes in you, you realize. You look up at the hill and think to yourself, it is time to see if you can claim a second dragon.

[slytheringangstuff]

𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝓉 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝐻𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 𝟥.𝟦𝓀

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 𝓃𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: 𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓎/𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹.

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑜 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓈𝒽 <𝟥

15 minutes. 

It had been 15 minutes since y/n had finished setting up the picnic for her and Theo’s date, and 15 minutes since he was meant to arrive. But that’s typical for him, sometimes Theo took longer than her to get ready. How that’s even possible she still doesn’t know. She smiles fondly, remembering how they were once scolded by a very upset Draco after Theo had made them late to one of his precious parties, or soirée as he calls them.

She had planned it out to the finest detail, from learning how to make his favourite finger foods, to finding and buying a new dress in his colours that y/n new he would adore. She had woken up before the elves had begun making breakfast for the castle (an agreement made a week ago) to make anything she hadn’t bought at Hogsmeade the day before, deciding to skip breakfast to start getting ready. That way she’d have plenty of time to set up by the black lake.

30 minutes now… ‘but he wouldn’t forget. Not again’. She thought, or more so hoped, twisting the ring he bought her their first Christmas together.

After eventually being satisfied with her makeup and managing to style hair that was unwilling to cooperate, it was already 11:30am. How so much time had gone by was a mystery to her, but she didn’t have time to dwell. Rushing out to the black lake, y/n was relived to see their spot was not only empty, but there were hardly any other students around. Which was unusual since the weather was actually good this weekend, but she figured most students had decided to go to Hogsmeade for the day. Which luckily provided the perfect setting for the date.

45 minutes. Forty-five. Biting her nails, she tries to ignore that oh so familiar dejected feeling sinking in the pit of her stomach. “Please…” she whispers, eye closing momentarily almost in a silent plea. “Not again.”

She had spent the last 30 minutes ensuring everything was perfect. It had to be. 

One hour. Which quickly yet somehow slowly, turned to two. ‘Forgotten again’, she thought.

Other than her shaking leg she hadn’t moved. It was only when the overfamiliar taste of salt entered her mouth, did y/n realise she was crying. She allowed herself a deep grounding breath before she began to pack up the untouched picnic, moving swiftly in hopes no one would notice. Wiping her tears, she was grateful her makeup was waterproof as she took one last moment to collect herself fully, before placing a smile on her face as she walked back towards the castle. She’d be dammed if she let anyone see behind the carefully constructed image, she spent years building.

Walking into the common room a particular voice answered the mystery of the absent boyfriend, stopping y/n in her tracks. Lounging on one of the sofas, laughing and smoking with our friends, uncaring about the smell so strong it stung y/n’s eyes let alone the poor first years that tried to pass through the room as quickly as possible. Her smile faltered. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still hurt. 

Before she could even make a move to leave Matteo had spotted her.

“Where have you been all day?” He questioned, all attention falling on y/n. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.” Opening his mouth to speak she stops him. “Unless it’s classified information of course.” She teases, her act in full force.

Chuckling he says, “Well if you must know little miss nosey, we were at Hogsmeade. We got back about an hour ago.” He pauses, “We organised it at breakfast.”

Shifting from foot to foot, she felt that familiar pang in her heart. ‘Oh’, she thought. ‘Figures’.

“We tried to find you!” Added Draco. “But by the time we decided, we barely had any time because Enzo was insistent on getting there in time for some stupid sale.”

“Oi!” Enzo shot a glare at Draco before turning back to y/n. “There was a sale at our favourite sweet shop.” He perked up. “I bought you some of the best ones.” He hands her a bulging bag, causing her to raise her eyebrows in shock. “I may have overdone it, but I felt bad I went without you.” She goes to respond before he speaks again. “Oh! And don’t even think about not taking it or paying me back.” 

A genuine smile graces her face, “Thank you Enz. I’ll have to treat you to something next weekend.” He frowned. “And you can’t talk me out of that.”

“So where were you anyway?” Questioned Blaise.

Her smile almost dropped. Almost. “Oh, just down by the black lake.”

“The whole day?” Spoke Matteo.

She glanced at Theo before looking elsewhere, fidgeting with her fingers. “Yeah, it was um relaxing.” Feeling cracks forming in her mask.

“Oh… oh I-“Theo stammered, his face mortified as realisation hit him.

“It’s fine Theo. Don’t worry.” y/n interrupted. The group shared confused glances, but new better then to ask about it. A lump had formed in her throat and the cracks were increasing. She was done with the conversation.

“Wait!” He paused trying to think of something to say. “Are you sure?”

‘That was the best he could think of. Really?’ she thought. Musting whatever mental strength she had left, y/n smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yep.” She said turning on her heel and leaving as fast as she could without seeming suspicious, dropping her smile instantly but not allowing the tears to fall until she entered her dorm. Away from prying eyes.

“Hey Tesoro.” She doesn’t respond. It’s nearly two whole hours later when he comes to her dorm. “Yeah, um sorry about the whole date thing.” He hesitates, sitting next to her on the bed, before continuing. “But you understand right? I promise it won’t happen again amore.” 

There were those words again. That promise. The sweetest lie of all. That was when her sadness became anger.

“Understand what exactly Theo!?” He froze, eyes wide in shock at her outburst. “Understand how you have missed not one. Not two. Not even three. But FOUR FUCKING DATES.” Taking a deep breath, she emphasized. “That I! Yes I! Singular! Put so much time and effort into ensuring were perfect!” 

Pausing for a moment to take a deep breath, she pushed back the tears that collected in her eyes before speaking again.

“I feel as though I’m going insane. Waiting in the same situation over and over and over again, for something that isn’t going to happen.” Her voice wavers, the lump in her throat returning. “I’m sick and tired of getting my hopes up for nothing Theo.” Looking elsewhere, lip trembling, she willed the tears in her eyes away as she waited for him to speak. 

His mouth hung open as if to speak but no words came out. Her gaze remained fixed to the floor, hair blocking her face from his view. Until his once frozen body manoeuvred up to look y/n in the eyes. Or at least attempted to do so. However, she stepped back, jaw clenched, looking anywhere but him, her breathing short and shallow. 

And in her stubbornness, he reacted.

“Y/N! YOU said it was FINE!” She flinched at the use of her name instead of the usual pet names. “Not once did you tell me it was a problem. NOT ONCE!” But she had. Admittedly not in such a direct way, but in a way he new when it came to expressing her feelings on topics such as this. “And if it was truly such a problem, I don’t think you would have been all happy go lucky all the time. Especially on those days.” And that was the mallet to her mask.

y/n’s face snapped to meet his, more so in shock then anger. And the second Theo saw her gleaming, tear-filled eyes, he regretted every word. 

“I said it was fine. I never said it didn’t hurt.” Those words hit him like a brick, and he stood still, frozen yet again. Voice wobbling, she continued.” I just… just don’t get it Theo. You say that I'm important to you, yet you make me feel like I'm not worth your time. And what do I get in return? Empty promises.” Theo felt sick to his stomach. Seeing y/n so broken, knowing that it was his actions that caused this, made his heart break. He wanted to say something, anything, to make her laugh, crack a smile, it didn't matter as long as it helps to repair the damage, he had caused her. But before he could speak, she stopped him. Her eyes, so full with tears, glanced at his guilt-ridden ones in a silent plea to let her finish.

After calming her breathing, she continued. “I acted like it wasn’t a big deal when in reality, every absence broke my heart, and do you know why? To spare you the guilt. Because I know, if roles were reversed, you would do the same for me because I would be mortified if I had left you waiting for as little as 15 minutes, let alone stand you up. Whether it was an accident or not.” A tear fell, another following soon after. “But after the second time, I began to doubt my assumption. So, I decided that faking a smile is easier than explaining why I’m sad.” Taking a deep breath, y/n whispered so softly Theo almost missed it. “Not that you noticed.”

When she turned to leave, he tried to speak, but words seemed to evade him as though he was a predator, and they were his prey.

As she began to walk towards the door he fell still once again, feeling as though guilt held him still, as though he were a mouse in a glue trap.

With her hand on the doorknob, y/n hesitated before turning to face him. The sight of her made his heart both melt and break. Her tears had dried, but her eyes remained puffy and held the same shade of red as her nose which was also causing her to sniffle. y/n’s cheeks and ears were flushed, and her eyes were so bloodshot it looked painful. Although her flushed face, she looked devoid of colour, her colour. He couldn’t explain just by looking at her face, but the second they locked eyes he knew. 

Her eyes told more then words could say. And y/n’s were always loud and expressive. He always said they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Within them were emotions, stories, and his favourite, her soul. It shone bright in her eyes, lighting up her face, never did it dim. Not even her saddest moments could smother it. But now? Now he can’t even find a flicker. 

She had felt so much that she started to feel nothing at all.

Turing back towards the door, y/n closed her eyes taking a breath. When she opened them, she didn’t look back, and with a weak voice she spoke.

“You’re losing me Theo.” She begins to open the door. “If you still want me, do something before I’m lost.”

And with that, she left.

In the days that followed not many words were exchanged between the two, other than the odd hi or nod in acknowledgment when seeing each other in the halls, classes or with friends. It was as if they had become acquaintances, their lifelong friendship, and hence their two-year relationship was gone in the blink of an eye. The light in her eyes was stolen by the sadness in her heart, yet still she smiled, casting the perfect illusion of happiness. 

y/n felt as though she was being forgotten, that Theo had decided she wasn’t worth the effort. That she wasn’t wanted. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He cared deeply, ‘possibly even too much’, he thought. But since their argument, more so her confrontation, Theo couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his stomach. The possibility that he could lose the love of his life, the woman he thought no, knew he was going to marry, and also lose his childhood best friend, the person he could confide in for anything. The one person he was certain he could trust, was the biggest slap in the face he had ever experienced. And it was exactly what he needed.

It was as though he was finally seeing clearly. Seeing how much she did for him. How much she thought of him. How much he took for granted. 

He then started to realise how little he did for her. When they started the relationship, he was incredibly thoughtful and affectionate, hell even as friends he was more caring than he was acting now. So, he thought of a plan because there was no chance, he was losing her due to his stupidity. 

But first, he needed help from their friends. Which had also meant telling them what an arse he had been. And boy was that a conversation…

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” Draco’s eyes narrowed, burning holes into the side of Theo’s head. ‘If looks could kill’ he thought.

No sure what to say he stayed silent, glancing up at the group occasionally. “What. The. Fuck.” Matteo’s eyes met Theo’s, burning with an intensity that almost made Theo flinch, instead opting to shift slightly from where he stood. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of that stare again.

Pansy snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” That made him flinch, when Pansy was angry people prayed to not be on the receiving end. That girl could be incredibly scary when she wanted to be. 

The group mirrored how each other felt, a mix of shock and anger very present and unmistakeable on their faces. Yet somehow, he managed the courage to speak. 

“Look I get it. I know now how shit of a boyfriend, friend, and heck even as a person I’ve been to her. I know. That’s why I’m trying to fix it. You can lecture me, be mad at me and so fourth later. Just please I beg of you, help me make it right.” He took a breath glancing away, willing his voice not to tremble, to not be vulnerable. But he was finding it hard at the thought of losing her. “Just… please, please, please. I can’t lose her.”Theo didn’t beg. Ever. So, hearing this, their expressions softened ever so slightly, except Tom’s, he ‘didn’t care’. But if Theo didn’t fix this, he’d find his way to the hospital wing. He had a soft spot for y/n as did the rest of the group. Which is why they agreed to help, but not forgive. Not until y/n was happy. 

Theo was exited and terrified. It had been six days since their fight, he was going to wait until Sunday, but he just couldn’t wait any longer. With the help of the girls, and photos, they set up a date which was an exact replica of their first ever ‘date’ together, in a clearing they discovered in the dark forest when they were younger. They weren’t a couple yet, but it was the first hangout that felt different to their regular ones. It felt more romantic. Two months, one week, and four days later and they were a couple. He thought of it as the most special and important day of his life, the day everything changed for the better. He wasn’t going to lose that. 

With the addition of Enzo and Daphne, stunning bouquets of y/n’s favourite flowers (something Theo remembered from when they were five) were made and placed around the area. 

Draco and Pansy helped him find perfumes and jewellery Theo knew she would like in high end shops, only the best for her. He ended up getting her favourite perfume, which he adored, and matching silver rings with their birthstones and initials. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to use gifts to fix things, so he didn’t buy everything he wanted to, but he made a mental note for future use.

Draco’s house elves taught him how to make y/n’s favourite snacks and meals by scratch. Which wasn’t too challenging for him, but it was extremely tiering. 

Up until five minutes ago, Matteo and Blaise were distracting y/n, well more like keeping her company. But now she was on her way, Pansy having collected her after they had finished setting up. Now Theo began to worry, lost in his own thoughts, imagining everything that could go wrong. That was until Pansy let out a cough, leaving soon after. Not before muttering something to y/n that he couldn’t quite catch.

She was wearing a gorgeous yellow sundress with white dots that landed just above the knee that Theo absolutely adored on her, in his eyes it gave her a beautiful glow, making her look, if possible, even more angelic than she already was. She had on the same white tennis trainers she always wore that somehow never got dirty. Her shoe size hadn’t changed since she was 10 and he never failed to tease her about it. Her hair was curled in a half up half down style to perfection, hair falling in way that framed her face like the work of art it was. And her makeup. Beautiful as always. Weather she had a full face, light or none, she was always perfect to him. But what truly got his heart fluttering was the look on her face. Her smile finally reached her eyes filling him with relief, but it was her eyes, what he saw in them. That spark. The joy. Pure happiness. 

“Theo…” She pauses, eyes taking in everything he had done. “This…this is amazing.” Her eyes get glassy, and he panics thinking there’s a problem, closing the distance to pull her to him. In an effort to comfort her he rubs her back, rambling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. This is meant to be a happy thing. “Until his ears are filled with her adorable giggles. 

“Theo! Theo! I’m ok, don’t worry!” She controls her laughter before continuing, oh how he missed that sound. “I just realised this is like our first date. Well not date but well you know.”

He smiles before taking a deep breath. “I’m glad you like it. But come sit, I need to talk to you about last weekend.” He felt her stiffen as he reluctantly let go of her so they could sit down.

“Before I speak, please let me say everything I need to before talking, because I need you to truly hear everything I have to say.” He pauses to look at her, to which she nods. 

Using every bit of courage, he begins. “Ok. So, I would like to start by saying how sorry I am for everything, and I need you to understand and know that none of this is even remotely close to being your fault. I’m the one who is at fault here. I have no reasons or excuses that even begin to explain why I missed those dates that you planned and put countless time and effort into. And I am appalled with myself for doing such. But what I am even more sorry for is not seeing how my behaviour has affected you. Had I actually paid attention to you I would have realised sooner. Would have seen how your eyes had lost their spark. The hurt. I took the trust and love you gave me for granted, and I couldn’t tell you why. When we first met, I had no idea you’d become this important to me. And sometimes, when being faced with the loss of it, you realise in that moment what it is you’re losing. You come to your senses. I hurt you, and that is far from ok. I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but I will keep trying to win back your trust and affection and to never revert back if I may have you as you already have me.” There’s a moment of silence as he presses a kiss to her forehead, everything hanging in the balance, as he waits for the worst. And time seems to stand still.

A kiss on the forehead, such a small gesture yet it’s so sweet and filled with such meaning.

“You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.”

[links-in-time]

A Problem Shared

This fic was inspired by this brilliant short comic by @mirensiart. Go check out their work it's awesome.

“Anyone else see that Wizrobe cast a spell on us during battle?” Asked four.

“Nothing happened though,” Wild shrugged, holding up a hand to count his fingers. “I feel fine.”

“Could it be a slow acting spell?” Time mused. “Stay alert to any changes.”

“Hmm, I don't recognise this magic,” Hyrule uttered, mostly to himself.

“Great!” Legend exclaimed, hands on his hips, scowl across his face. “A surprise spell, that's great! With our luck the spell will randomly make us explode or something.”

As the veteran continued to speculate, a fly appeared in Wind's vision. It wafted lazily about, buzzing irritatingly.

“Heh, we're not going to explode Vet,” Sky chuckled softly, finding the image alarmingly funny.

“You don't know that!” Legend bellowed in response.

At that moment the fly had the audacity to land on Wind's cheek. In retaliation, Wind slapped his hand to his face, squishing the bug with a satisfying clap.

“Ow!”

“What was that?!”

“Ouch!”

“What the fuck?!”

“Oww.”

“Sailor!”

“Agh!”

“What's going on?!”

Wind stared around at his companions. Each was rubbing their own cheek, as though they had all been slapped across the face.

“Wait… you all felt that too? Oops, sorry.” Wind shrugged, very confused and beginning to turn his suspicions onto the fly smashed into his palm.

“Yeah”

“Unfortunately.”

“Yup!”

“Yes!”

“Yeeah”

“Yes…”

They all replied at once.

Wars let out a long pained sigh as he rubbed his freshly raw cheek.

“So… a spell that shares pain huh…” he grumbled.

He and Twilight caught each other's eye and the same sickening thought passed between them.

“We are so dead.”

***

The first few hours passed by without much incident. Though each of the Link's found themselves a little short of breath after their hike up a steep valley. As they stopped to make camp, they all sighed a collective breath of relief to have a long rest. Even Wind and Wild, who would usually have bounded up the trail like mountain goats. Meanwhile Sky tried his best not to look too guilty.

Nothing of note happened during their evening meal either. Though Wild feared he might actually spontaneously combust from how many times the others told him to be careful with his knives, as he chopped vegetables for stew.

“Ooh hot!” Sky hissed, as he swallowed a mouthful of broth before blowing on it.

“Ouch!”

The exclamation rang around the ring of heroes, each experiencing the same sting of pain to their tongues. Waterskins and canteens were quickly reached for, to extinguish the burning in their mouths.

“Sky, can you please not burn off all our taste buds?” Legend asked, turning a wry look on his brother.

“Sorry, I wasn't thinking,” Sky pailed, taking extra care with his next mouthful.

“It's alright Sky, besides, the Captain doesn't have any sense of taste anyway!” Time smirked, before shoving a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

“Hey, take that back!” Warriors demanded, playfully slapping Time across the shoulder.

He regretted it instantly of course, when the same mild shock struck his own shoulder.

“Wars?” The others grumbled.

“Let's just try to refrain from any horse play, alright?” Twilight suggested, carefully inching away from Hyrule and Wild on either side of him. “We've gotten pretty familiar with each other on this journey. We can easily hurt each other without really trying.”

“And what's the bet that all of our pain tolerances are different?” Legend remarked, staring down into his stew.

He eyed the rings adoring each of his fingers. Legend struggled to remember the last time he had taken any of them off. Though he had given the healing ring to Rulie to borrow briefly.

Most granted him some kind of power or protection. However, there was one in particular which he knew he couldn't live without. The Vet swallowed a lump of carrot as he wondered how things would fair in the morning. Maybe if he tried to be the last one out of bed, it wouldn't be so bad.

“Let's just get some rest and hope this spell wears off by morning,” Time suggested.

“Agreed,” Wars chimed in.

The boys finished their meals and tucked themselves into their bed rolls, a safe distance away from each other. Previously on more than one occasion, someone had woken from a night terror and attacked the closest body. No one wanted an incident like that while they were trying to get some sleep.

***

“You feel any change this morning?” Four asked Twilight, as he staggered over to where the older hero was perched on a log on last watch.

“Don't think so, but then we didn't feel any different after the spell hit anyway. I don't reckon we'd know if it wore off without trying it out.”

“Hmm, you first!” Four chuckled.

“Yaww! Morning,” Sky yawned, as he sat up and stretched.

He smiled as he caught sight of his brothers.

“Anyone else awake yet?” He asked, rubbing the crust from his eyes.

“Not yet, but…” Twilight began, but he was cut off, as a surge of pain stabbed through what felt like his entire body.

Four dropped to his knees, his arms wrapped around his torso.

“Ahh!” Sky breathed, leaning forwards as the wave of aches washed over him.

“What the heck?!” Warriors exclaimed in a sleepy angry voice.

He rolled onto his side and out of his blankets as he squeezed his eyes shut. The others were all making similar cries and moans as they were rudely awoken by whatever had inflicted this all-encompassing pain upon them.

“Sorry everyone.” They heard Wild say sheepishly.

He carefully stretched his neck and limbs before getting to his feet and stumbling towards the fire.

“It's the scar tissue, it gets stiff in the mornings. Especially if it's chilly like it was last night,” he explained.

“I know what that kind of ache feels like,” Wars sighed, “this isn't that Wild. This is something else.”

“It’s me,” Legend muttered.

Sitting cross legged on his bed roll with his head hanging, the others struggled to see the veterans face.

“What do you mean it's you?” Hyrule frowned, slowly getting up and wincing against the pain. Had Legend somehow managed to hide an injury from them?

“The pain, it's something I've had for a long time. This ring helps, but first thing in the morning is always the worst.”

Legend held up his hand for the others to see. Though he wore so many rings he could have been referring to any of them. He swept his fingers through his fluffy fringe to brush it off his face, before dropping his hand in his lap.

“How, how long have you been dealing with this Lege?” Hyrule asked hesitantly.

Legend was aware that Hyrule had been inching steadily closer. Any moment he expected his successor’s hands to start glowing. He needed to put his mind to rest quickly. Well, as much as he could.

“A long time, Rulie. And before you start, I've tried every healing remedy under the sun. Even magic ones, so your healing magic won't help. I'm sorry, but it just won't.”

“Legend,” Sky sighed, finally out of his blankets and sitting close to the embers of the fire.

“I don't want your pity, any of you,” Legend hissed, turning his gaze around the group. “And you'd all say the same if it was the other way around. It'll be tolerable in half an hour or so.”

“We've broken camp in less time than that before,” Four sighed, plonking himself on the ground beside Sky.

“Does that mean every morning we've got on the road, you've secretly been dealing with this pain?” Wind asked.

Legend thought the kid looked like he was dealing with his and Wild's morning aches worst of all. Even his voice sounded strained as he stumbled towards where Time sat on his bedroll.

“I just,” Legend sighed. “It can't be helped, so I just get on with things, same as the rest of you.”

“We'll wait until everyone feels well enough to move.” Time decided, pulling Wind against his side as the sailor sat down beside him.

“Fine, but this better not become a regular thing. I can deal with my own curses the same as everyone else!” Legend insisted, fixing Time with an intense stare.

“Curse?” Wild asked, suddenly even more concerned.

“Figure of speech Champ,” Legend winked at him.

***

If Warriors was less combative towards the Veteran from that moment on, no one mentioned it. If Hyrule felt more inclined to stick close to his predecessor, Legend didn't mind it. The others tried not to think about their brother's many aches and pains earned from years of adventuring. Not to mention the fact that the guy hadn't even hit twenty yet.

Time sighed as they walked along the woodland trail and considered his own lot. He was the oldest, sure, but not by a lot. The others had made wild guesses about his age, but in truth he believed himself to be in his mid thirties. Time couldn't be sure of course, he'd never known when his birthday was. But Malon thought they were the same age and that was good enough for him.

Time and many battles had given the man his own share of aches and sore joints. Though not bad enough apparently to debilitate the whole group. He thought about how poor Wind had still struggled to get moving, even after the rest seemed to have recovered. Twilight had given the kid a piggyback ride until he felt steady enough to walk on his own.

Legend drew the sailor into a one armed hug and muttered an apology. But Time heard Wind insist that Legend had nothing to be sorry for. He expressed just how impressed he was that the veteran hero still got up every morning and got on with his job, the same as the rest of them. Legend didn't respond, but as Time glanced over his shoulder he caught the tips of Legend's ears turning pink.

***

The Lynel literally walked into them. Whether it had been laying in wait for them, or just happened upon a group of heroes in the wild, no one cared to ask.

“No heroics!” Warriors shouted almost immediately.

As swords and other weapons were drawn, a million memories flashed through his mind. All those times one of them had stepped in front of another to save them from a blow. That wasn't going to work today. They didn't know if it was solely pain that was being transferred yet. If wounds could also be shared between them, they were going to have bigger problems than the Lionel.

“He's right,” Time barked. “Keep your guard up and stay out of each other's way. We don't need any friendly fire or hits taken for each other. Understood?”

Everyone nodded and the Lynel charged. It went straight for Sky, perhaps the billowing of his cloak caught its attention. The young knight stood his ground, Master Sword held firmly in his grasp ready to strike. He glanced quickly left and right to make sure no one was nearby, then tried to remember the move Wild had shown him.

Sky waited until the Lynel was only a few feet away before stepping to the side and swinging his sword diagonally. He slashed the Lionel across its chest, leaving a deep gash in the flesh. It skidded to a halt a few meters behind Sky, letting out a furious roar which scattered a nearby flock of birds.

Unfortunately, the Lynel turned and swung its arm straight into Twilight, who had been trying to sneak up on it. The beast's forearm hit Twilight across the chest, sending a ripple across the group. Four and Hyrule both staggered backwards, while Wind was almost knocked off his feet.

“Argh, sorry!” Twilight grunted, but the others weren't listening.

The pain receded quickly and Wild prepared to line up a shot on the Lynel.

“Watch out, it's…!” Wars began to shout.

An instant later the Lynel opened its fanged jaws and let forth a bout of flame. The boys scattered, rolling or dodging out of the way to avoid being singed.

“Ahh!” Legend cried.

“Lege!” Hyrule winced through gritted teeth as he bit back Legend's pain.

“I'm alright. Just my leg,” Legend replied, quickly glancing at the fresh burn across his right leg.

“Yeah, we know,” Sky grunted.

“Wild, can you take a shot?” Time barked.

“Not at this close range. It moves too fast. I'm gonna get some distance, can you guys draw it to me?” Wild asked, already turning and sprinting off through the trees.

“I guess we'll have to try,” Time huffed under his breath. “Boys, draw the beast to Wild!”

The others nodded in understanding and hurried to help however they could. With one painfully burned leg each, they struggled to maneuver. Legend got the Lynel’s attention by blasting it once with his fire rod.

“Hey, over here!” Twilight bellowed, launching his boomerang at the beast.

The gale boomerang struck the monster in the back of the head, driving it into a tree with a blast of wind for good measure.

“No!” Wind shouted from the opposite direction. “Here!”

He let off a piercing whistle which cut through the air. The Lynel snapped its head around to stare at the young sailor. It narrowed its eyes and pawed a hoof at the ground. Huffing loudly through its nose.

“Sailor, run, now!” Warriors ordered calmly.

Wind had time to glance once at Warriors, and back at the Lynel before it lowered its torso and charged. Wind turned on the spot and sprinted full pelt after Wild.

“Catch me if you can, you bastard!” Wild shrieked over his shoulder

Before Time or Warriors could shout ‘language’, Wind was off. Brambles and branches snatched at his heels and his clothes, but Wind shook them off. He could feel the Lynel’s hoof-beats rumbling through the ground behind him. He couldn't slow down or he was going to die.

“Hylia please let Wild be out here somewhere!” Wind uttered, grunting as he fought his body to keep on running.

As though in answer to his prayer, Wind saw a hint of blue among the trees up ahead. He grinned when the visage of his brother came into view, standing in the middle of the path directly in front of him. Wind knew what he had to do, and he trusted Wild not to kill him in the process.

“You wanted him, now you got him!” Wind cheered at Wild, who answered his call with a smug little smirk.

Just as Wind was within a few meters of Wild and his outstretched sword, Wind dropped. He skidded forwards on his knees and slid on the damp grass right past Wild. Overhead, Wind heard Wild shift his stance ever so slightly as the Lynel thundered towards them.

Wild waited. And waited some more. He waited until the Lynel was mere feet away. Until he could smell the sweat on its flanks, and the brimstone on its breath. The Lynel swung its blade. Wild launched himself into the air. The forest spun in a blur. He was vaguely aware of the blue smudge of Wind somewhere nearby, but he had to keep his attention focused on his enemy.

The blade in Wild's hand moved as an extension of his arm. The Lynel lifted its head to roar at just the right moment. Wild smiled in the fraction of a second it took him to slice his blade across the monster’s artery.

***

“You're in pain Rulie, it's fine honestly. Don't strain yourself.” Legend insisted.

Hyrule gave him a deadpan look, his hands glowing and glittering with healing magic.

“Legend, I'm in pain because your leg is burnt, you idiot. If I don't heal you we'll all feel it for hours. Not to mention your wound could get infected.” Hyrule insisted, as he pushed Legend back down to the ground, a little more forcefully this time.

“Please just let him heal you, Lege. I don't know about the rest of you, but between the hit Twilight took and Legend's burned leg, I'm not feeling too good.” Four grumbled.

He was still rubbing his chest and sitting in an ungainly pose on the ground. Twilight could have sworn the smithy’s eyes flashed with a hint of ruby red for a moment. The pain in his own leg was akin to more of an annoying itch, but clearly it was having a stronger effect on the others.

At that moment Wind and Wild pushed through the brush nearby and rejoined the grouo. The tired and withdrawn expression on the Sailor’s face drove away the last of Legend's resistance. He let out a long drawn out sigh before he stopped trying to get up. Legend nodded once at Hyrule, then crossed his arms and waited.

While Hyrule set about fixing his predecessor's leg, Time gave Wind and Wild a look over. His gaze fixed on the scuffed knees of their youngest hero.

After digging around in his bag, Time pulled out two potions. He offered one to Wind who only grumbled briefly before taking it and sipping at the crimson potion. Time offered the other bottle to Twilight. Ordinarily Twi wouldn't waste one of their potions on something so trivial as a punch to the chest. However, given that it wasn't only his own pain he needed to heal, Twilight assented.

“Well, that could have gone worse,” Warriors sighed.

***

“Okay, I think we've found a counter spell,” Legend announced over dinner that evening.

He and Four had been scouring each other's spell books for over an hour. At last they happened upon a spell which seemed to meet their requirements.

“It's a fairly simple counter spell, but it has an element of a separation spell too,” Four added.

“Any side effects?” Time asked, pausing as he lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips.

“It's not a very helpful spellbook. It's pretty old and I can only decipher the most important parts,” Four admitted.

Legend nodded and decided to ignore the flash of violet in his brother's eyes. He'd been surprisingly focused during their search, almost gleeful to get his nose stuck in a pile of books. Four was often found reading of an evening, but this task seemed to have awoken the true bookworm in him.

“I say we put it to a vote. It's likely the spell will wear off eventually, but with our luck we could sustain another serious injury before then. All those in favor of trying the counter spell, raise a hand.” Warriors decided, already holding up his own hand as he looked around at the others.

In quick succession the rest of the Chain raised their hands, some holding spoons, into the air. Twilight and Time were the only two to hesitate. They shared a gaze and Twilight shrugged. After that they both lifted their hands and Time nodded to the Captain.

“Alright, we'll give it a try. Is there anything you need for the spell Legend?” Time asked.

“Um, I'm gonna need a hair from each of you tied into a knot,” Legend replied, squinting at the book for confirmation. “Hyrule, I might need your help too. In case my magic reserves aren't enough to cast it.”

“You can count on me,” Hyrule nodded.

With a fistful of hairs in various shades of blond, Legend and Hyrule stood beside the campfire. Legend held the spell book in his other hand and practiced the spell for the fiftieth time that evening. Hyrule's hand lay gently on Legend's shoulder, the comforting warmth of his hand emanating through his clothes. Hyrule was always warm.

“Okay, I'm ready,” Legend said quietly, drawing the attention of the rest of the group gathered around the fire.

The boys sitting in the flickering light of the fire drew in a collective breath. Legend began to read aloud from the ancient script of the spell book. Although no one understood the language, Legend spoke as though it were his second tongue. Perhaps all that practice had paid off.

As the spell came to an end, Legend's fist holding the hairs began to glow. His knuckles grew white and Time noticed Hyrule bracing himself behind his predecessor. This was clearly taking a lot out of their vet, and he hoped it wouldn't cause him any problems afterwards.

Speaking the final word, Legend opened his fist and let the hairs fall into the fire. The rest of the boys watched with bated breath, as the little strands of gold and bronze drifted down and disappeared.

Legend breathed a long sigh of relief and snapped the spellbook shut. The moment he did so he began to stumble backwards. Hyrule seemed ready for this however, and caught his brother easily in his arms.

“You okay Lege?” He asked softly.

“I'm good, just real tired,” he huffed breathlessly, his face a little paler than usual.

While Hyrule helped Legend to stumble over to his bedroll, the others stared around at each other.

“Did it work?” Asked Sky.

“How do we tell?” Warriors questioned.

“I could cut my self real quick?” Wild suggested.

“No!” Time and Twilight barked in unison.

Wild shrank back, his previously confident smile fading in an instant.

“No one's going to hurt themselves on purpose,” Time insisted.

“So what, are we just going to wait until someone does get injured and see if we feel something?” Asked Four, sounding irked. “That's not very scientific.”

“Scien-what?” Sky mumbled, looking confused.

“Don't worry feathers, it's a future thing!” Wild chuckled. “Come guys I really don't mind. Besides, if Rulie is feeling okay he can heal me right away anyhow.”

Wild stared around at the others as Hyrule returned from tucking Legend into his blankets. The spell had almost drained the veteran and within a few moments of laying down in his warm bedroll he had drifted off to sleep.

“How's Lege?” Asked Warriors, nodding to the small lump beneath the blankets.

“Sleeping, that spell used up most of his magic. A good night's rest and a potion in the morning and he'll be right as rain.”

“What do you think, Rulie?” Wild cut in. “Wanna test whether the spell worked with me?”

“You want to hurt yourself don't you?” Hyrule sighed.

“Let me get this straight for you. I don't want to hurt myself, I want to help everyone else!” Wild insisted.

While Wild was trying to explain himself and Time and Twilight continued to insist that this was not going to happen, Wind and Four happened to catch each other's eye.

“You thinking what I'm thinking?” Four whispered.

Wind nodded. Four gave the sailor a knowing smirk as the pair of them shook out their left hands.

SLAP

All eyes snapped around to see the two smallest heroes rubbing their cheeks.

“What the hell are you two playing at?” Time bulked, staring at the two boys with disbelief.

“What?!” Four exclaimed, nursing the steadily growing red mark upon his face. “We needed to test the spell, but we didn't need a serious injury to do it.”

“The real question is did anyone else feel it?” Wind pointed out.

“I'm guessing since we're the only ones rubbing our faces that the answer is obvious,” Four remarked.

He gazed around with violet eyes, searching for any hint of pain or discomfort from the others.

“I didn't feel anything,” said Wars.

“Me neither,” added Sky.

“It seems the spell worked then,” Time sighed. “Well, I'll have to congratulate Legend when he wakes up. And well done to you too Four for finding the right spell.”

“I'm just glad it's over.”

“Maybe we can learn something from it though.” Warriors mused. “We have become a bit too reliant on potions and Hyrule's healing abilities. I for one know I've let my guard forms slip, perhaps I should come up with a training regimen for everyone?”

With an enthusiastic smile plastered to his face, Warriors looked up to gauge the Chain's reaction to his suggestion. Not one face was smiling back at him. In fact, Four and Wild looked about ready to murder him.

“Alright Captain,” Time said coolly. “Let's start with how to defend against a horde of enemies. While you're unarmed!”

Without a seconds warning, Time lunged for Warriors. His larger frame pinned the younger hero to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. While some of the others began to roar with laughter, others got the idea. Wild was the first to join in, leaping with joy as he piled on top of Warriors. Adding to his discomfort by tickling his stomach where his shirt had ridden up.

“Oh please no!” Wars screeched, in a high pitch voice none of them had ever heard before.

As more of the boys moved to help Warriors with his training, Twilight hung back. He clutched his stomach as he roared with laughter. Managing to disguise the gentle rub of his stinging cheek as he leaned on his hand.

[wanderingwnderland]

yandere! 90’s rockstar x fem reader ༘˚⋆𐙚｡

currently listening to ˗ˏˋ under your spell - snow strippers ˎˊ˗

Roman was often described to be a musical god enclosed within the body of a human man. He was nothing short of a force of nature when he was performing onstage alongside his band mates. His dark curls danced across his tatted back as he worked his nimble fingers on his guitar, causing concertgoers to weep of both desire and awe at the mere sight of him. People would expect for him to be cocky due to the amount of recognition and admiration felt towards his band, but they’d thankfully be wrong. Sure, him and his band mates would give journalists/interviewers a difficult time by subjecting them to their boyish and sarcastic humor, but he was an incredibly likable man. People could have their opinions about his music, but one thing that they couldn’t deny was that he was a relatively good man (for a lack of better word). Roman was exactly that, a good man raised in an okay neighborhood by amazing parents. But, just like everyone else in the world, he had some slip ups along the way.

Oh, you. The love of Roman’s life, his reason for being, the one he yearns to come home to, the woman he fantasizes about, the one with the name he has tattooed onto his olive painted flesh, his motivation to kill.

Roman swears he hasn’t loved anyone the way he loves you, and he means those words with his entire being when he speaks them. He’s a bit intimidating and holds a closed off personality , but it’s only because he’s used this as a response to deal with how he’s been treated by the people around him in the past. People that he loved so deeply, and they treated his affection as if it held the same value as bird shit. But, you, oh he just couldn’t get enough of you. You somehow always manage to make him feel as if his heart is about to burst at the seams even when he swears to himself that he’s getting used to the effect you have on him. He adores having you near him and always does everything in his power to keep a smile plastered on your face. However, if you’re not feeling the best, he would never want you to feel as if you have to hide your feelings from him. Don’t you understand? He loves you so fucking much, baby, and he wants to see each and every part of you. If you’re going through a rough patch, you’re never going through it alone as long as you’re with him, he’ll constantly be right beside you. Just please never hide yourself from him.

ever.

Roman is just like everyone else, okay? The average person is bound to feel upset if a loved one shares that they were harmed by someone. Everyone experiences an uncontrollable anger when someone they love is done wrong. So, why is it so different when you tell Roman the name of the person who made your eyes, that were once filled with nothing but stars and moonlight, water and fill with misty tears? Why is it so wrong when he somehow ends up finding their place of residence, and lets himself right on in. Sure, he might’ve been the last person to have contact with the ‘victim’ but he had nothing to do with their death, nothing. Oh, no, you’re telling him that their nearly unrecognizable body was found within their own home? No one would ever find out that he was the reason for their passing, and even if they did it’s not as if he would even spend that long behind bars anyway. He’s a part of a worldwide known band that is adored by people of all different walks of life. If anyone were to be disliked or harmed by Roman, then people would be prompted to ask the person what did they do? Because, he would never do that without a reason. You must’ve been the problem.

“Well that guy must’ve deserved it.” “He must’ve had a reason to do what he did.” “He was just defending the woman he loves.” “Who even likes ____ anyway? He’s always doing something stupid. It’s about time someone put him in his place.”

Roman absolutely adores creating music with an image of you in his mind. You’re his muse and he never fails to tell you so. He can’t help the fact that he loves how flushed your face seems to get when he tells you he works best when thinking of you. The band has a song named after you, an album cover that is an image of where he took you for your first date, and even a song with a month/day/and year as the title. The date is when he plans to propose to you.

He is one of those boyfriends that will constantly grab at your tummy while the two of you are cuddling, he’s the touchiest person you have ever met. He needs to have at least one of his hands on you or he will die. He loves squeezing the softest parts of you because he swears your body is the most precious thing he’s ever had the fortune of holding , how could he resist practically throwing himself at you every chance he gets…? He adores laying his head between your thighs while reading a section of ‘The Fall of the House of Usher’, resting his curly haired head atop of your breasts, softly placing his ringed hands on your ass when you reach up to hug him/he’s passing you within your shared home. However, he never does this to intentionally initiate sex or for a sexual reason. No, he simply loves touching you.

Roman is quite literally always showering you with gifts that you have no recollection of asking for. But this doesn’t stop him from gifting you the newest Mac lip set, a necklace with his name decorating it, a leather jacket sprayed with his cologne, tickets to a movie you mentioned wanting to see, a trip to a newly opened cafe within your neighborhood that you said you wanted to visit. He never fails to show his appreciation for you even in the tiniest of ways. Roman is incredibly attentive when it comes to you. He has fully memorized your order pattern at your favorite restaurant, your coffee order and the pastry you enjoy pairing it with, the body wash you prefer.

He could never imagine himself going on tour while you’re cooped up in your shared home all alone. He is not allowing for that to happen, he’ll find a way to get you alongside him on tour even if you have a job with an incredibly tight schedule. There is nothing he loves more than being able to nuzzle himself into the warmth of your body after a high energy performance. You’re a tall glass of cold, fresh water and he is a man who has been deprived of all forms of hydration. You make him feel refreshed and at ease after all the hardships he’s experienced. You are the beaming sun within his life and he will bask beneath your light for as long as you allow him to.

But, it’s not as if he’d ever let you go without a fight.

You are the only person that he trusts to handle his curls as he spent a great deal of his childhood growing it to his waist. He will have a fit if anyone other than you even offers to assist him in styling, washing, or trimming his hair.

Has an adorable habit of comparing the two of you to iconic couples in horror movies. Funnily enough, couples go as the two of you during Halloween as a result of his relevant status and the fact that he’s an incredibly iconic figurehead within the rock n’ roll scene. The public absolutely adore you and never fail to mention just how enamored he appears to be when looking at you. He could have the most unreadable expression on his face but a smile will immediately be painted on his face as soon as he catches sight of his baby.

A bit of a light sleeper. Well, he is very much a light sleeper because he will immediately notice if you get up in the middle of the night and follow after you like a duckling.

He loves softly singing to you, especially when you’re upset. He is the absolute best when it comes to comforting you and he is the first person you search for when something is bugging you. He’ll softly rub your back while pressing soft kisses onto your head as he whispers words of reassurance into your ear, gently shushing your cries.

Roman smokes weed on a regular basis but does absolutely everything to rid of the smell it leaves in order to not bother you. Even if you’re also a smoker, that is not going to stop him from brushing his teeth five times, chewing multiple packs of gum and practically putting himself into a washing machine just so the strong essence of the smoke doesn’t overpower your senses.

Constantly keeps your favorite snacks within your shared home, and he always notices if you’re running low on something and never hesitates to buy you more of it.

Keeps a picture that the two of you took within a Photo Booth on a European getaway in his wallet.

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ - Hello everyone, I am so happy to finally be getting back to writing and I’m so excited to interact with all of you once more. Requests are open!!

[aureum-cordis]

Lost & Found, Part 4

A/N: Hey! It’s been a short while since my last update, college got a little hectic for me. But I’ve gotta admit, this has been my favorite part to write so far. I really have to thank everyone for checking out this little fic and I appreciate all of the reblogs and follows, as well as the notes! Thank you all so much! Check out the other parts here: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

_________________________________________________

You were more than content to have an audience as you drew an amalgamation of little doodles on the page you were provided. CraftyCorn was offering you any crayon, marker, or pencil you even vaguely gestured to while Bobby BearHug rested her head on DogDay’s shoulder.

The dog was unbothered by this, especially since this was the happiest he had seen the other two in what felt like years. He was grateful for this little moment of peace, even if some nagging thought attempted to plague his mind with negativity. It wasn’t as if he would ignore the thought that this could be stripped away just as quickly as it came, but he refused to feed into it.

Even he was surprised by the way he felt fiercely protective over you and the others, not that it was a negative form of surprise at all. You, and that precious little smile on your face as you lifted the page to show the trio of Smiling Critters that you had drawn them, had caused the little amount of hope in his heart to flourish. If you had survived then it was possible that they all could, that this situation wasn’t impossible to walk away from.

He wrapped his arm around the bear that rested her head on his shoulder in a side hug of sorts, allowing his own head to gently press against hers. The two watched as you gestured for CraftyCorn to join you, to which they happily accepted.

You still sat cross-legged on the ground but the unicorn laid on her stomach to join you, taking a crayon between their hooves and helping you in drawing the scenery of your little drawing of the Smiling Critters as well as yourself.

DogDay and Bobby BearHug watched you and the unicorn as you both drew an adorable image of the strange yet endearing quartet they had formed through chance. You and CraftyCorn were passing crayons and markers of various colors between each other, a wordless understanding between the two of you.

The leader of what remained of the Smiling Critters was more than content to just rest against the bear of the group as he watched you enjoy yourself, even if your hands were now covered in various colors from your composition.

You were far from deterred nor were you upset from such a thing, even going as far as admiring the smear of vibrant colors that covered your palms and fingers.

It was something so small yet noticeable that the dog and the bear couldn’t help but laugh softly at the little display, even more so as CraftyCorn lifted her hooves to show you that their luck with the crafts wasn’t all that orderly either.

The unicorn muttered her praises, admiring the way you drew each of them as well as the background they had been helping you design. You shook your head, pointing at yourself and then the Smiling Critter that had joined you.

She paused for a moment, watching your gesture before it finally clicked what you had meant. “Oh, I didn’t contribute much, this was all you. I could never take credit for it.” They replied in an amused yet genuine tone, it wasn’t fair when you had done the majority of the artwork.

You shook your head again, more enthusiastic this time and bent down to point at the paper. One of your small fingers rested on the drawn unicorn on the page, before you pointed at the real one in front of you. CraftyCorn raised her hooves in a manner that bordered on compliant, yielding their stance on rejecting any credit.

The white furred member of the Smiling Critters shifted from the prone position they were in to a seated one as she spoke. “While I still think I didn’t do much, I appreciate that you let me join you. Together, we created something that easily beats anything I have ever drawn alone.” You were positively beaming as you heard the final agreement that left the artist of the quartet.

Slowly, you moved the papers and the art supplies out of the way as you stood up. CraftyCorn was about to speak when you suddenly wrapped your arms around her torso and squeezed her in a warm embrace.

The unicorn was stunned, unsure of what to do at that moment, and turned to look at DogDay and Bobby BearHug. The dog was about to speak when the bear at his side hugged him in an instant, whispering as she did so. “Hug them!” It was a hushed shout in anything but you seemed unphased, nuzzling into the soft fur that was the unicorn’s chest as they gently wrapped their arms around you in return.

The touch was featherlight, as if you would break should any force be applied. Regardless, you were more than happy to be held even if it was by an incredibly careful unicorn.

A tired yawn left your mouth, the sound still audible despite the fact that you hadn’t, or perhaps were unable, to speak a word. With a balled up first, you rubbed one of your eyes which grew teary from the drowsiness that overcame you.

DogDay knew that you would crash soon when he had found you, the bags under your eyes were more than a sign of the sleep deprivation you suffered from. CraftyCorn allowed her arms to fall to her sides as you broke the hug and backed up slightly. Still rubbing your eyes, you turned to look at the duo that were still close together.

Bobby BearHug hadn’t let go of DogDay since she had first hugged him and he was content enough to not stop her. He didn’t have the heart to do so, not when she had been so distant until you came along, and because he didn’t mind the contact. With a slow and sluggish gait, you walked over to the two of them.

The orange dog was a little puzzled as you approached, extending the arm that he didn’t have around the bear at his side to you. You grabbed his arm and used it to steady your wobbly steps before you promptly sat yourself down in his lap. The suddenness of your action caused some of the wind to be knocked from him, but not a word of protest left his mouth.

He watched as you curled up in his lap and gently pulled the arm you had been holding onto earlier closer to you. He was more than willing to allow you to do such a thing and if he were able to cry in that moment, he would’ve. You wrapped your little arms around his as his hand rested against your back, supporting you to keep you from falling should you stir in your sleep.

A tired smile rested on your face as you looked up at him, before nestling up against his leg and closing your eyes. Together, all three of the Smiling Critters watched as your little chest rose and fell, falling entirely silent to keep from disturbing you as you rested. Collectively, they could all see how exhausted you were, which was exactly why they were more than willing to let you sleep.

For several long moments, they all remained where they were, simply observing you as you clung to the leader’s arm as if they would vanish if you let go. Carefully, CraftyCorn slowly approached the trio and sat down on the side of DogDay that was unoccupied.

There, she rested their chin on his shoulder and looked down at you, nothing but sympathy and a warmth that would soothe anyone in her gaze. They shifted slightly, resting against the dog with her body to be closer to him and you. He was more than pleased with the action, a happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time came to the surface, warming his heart and bringing with it an unbridled sense of joy.

You had brought forth a side to himself and the others that he feared was long gone, yet in this very moment it returned. It wasn’t until he heard a steady and rythmic thumping against the ground did he realize what was happening. His tail was the cause of the sound, wagging openly as a display of his happiness and how overjoyed he was that the others had finally been able to find a beacon of hope in this otherwise grim situation.

None of those around him stirred at the disruption nor did they seem bothered by it in the slightest. DogDay himself was embarrassed by the physical reaction that displayed his elation, but it faded as Bobby BearHug continued to embrace him and CraftyCorn’s head now rested on his shoulder and their sides pressed against one another. They were just as content as he was and that only made the thumping of his tail increase in pace.

The only sounds that filled the room were the quiet inhales and exhales of your sleeping form and the sound of the orange dog’s tail as it met the floor as those most important to him were surrounding him. Despite the fact that they had all met you today, they all shared the same sentiment as their leader did. You were now a very dear member of what remained of the Smiling Critters.

[inumkii]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ reunion - kazuha x reader

"kazuha fled inazuma after the vision hunt decree, regretfully leaving you in his wake."

wc: 800

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: not really proofread because i didn't want it to sit in my drafts any longer. also im lowk extending the vision hunt degree's canon timeline to a few more years

kaedehara kazuha was the type of boy to sneak through your window at night when you were children just to stay up and talk to you. 

initially, it was because you both were young and couldn’t extend your playdates past your respective bedtimes. but as you grew older, your traditional fathers grew weary of the implications of you two being seen together in the late hours of the night. but nevertheless, he snuck up without fail each night just to lay on your bedroom floor and talk for hours on end until you fell asleep and he returned home.

you thought about those nights endlessly.

time wasn’t kind to the two of you, separating your paths further each passing day. kazuha fled inazuma after the vision hunt decree, regretfully leaving you in his wake.

years had passed and you had eventually heard the town gossip that he had returned to stop the shogun’s very own strike. the very mention of his name caused a pit in the center of your chest to bubble up.

but when you set off to find him in the city, you had learned he already left with a fleet called the crux. you hadn’t recognized the name and it made you loathe how unfamiliar he was becoming to you- coming and going without saying a word. you arrived home disheartened, failing to notice the maple leaf pinned beneath the window from the night before.

weeks passed with you attempting to move on from the stewing image of the man in your head. the nights spent with hushed whispers and conversations about the future felt fewer than the time you forcibly spent without him.

it was yet another night of you lying down in the silence of your own home. fatigue weighed down on your body, yet you couldn’t help yourself from imagining kazuha on the floor beneath your bed, listening to the stories of your day. you turned in your sheets to push the thought out of your head so you could fall asleep with peace of mind.

your attempted slumber was foregone when you heard a gentle rapping at your window. your eyes fluttered open to see the silhouette of someone's figure on the other side.

either your state of drowsiness or innate sense of trust in the depths of your heart caused you to be less alarmed by the sudden intrusion. 

he came back for you.

your body acted on impulse as you lept out of your covers to lift up the window separating your reunion. 

the second the cool air broke into your room, you heard his laugh follow suit.

“it would be uncouth of me to sneak in as i had been prior.” he said with a calm smile. it was the expression he wore best, though you hadn’t noticed the undertone of pure elation hidden behind the twinkle of his eye.

there kazuha stood, the boy you grew up with, in essence. albeit, he wore a few more scars and there was a stronger air of wisdom in his posture, but overall he was the same man you grew up adoring. 

he held onto a delicate flower as he gazed at you.

“i deeply regret not seeing you sooner. trust me, if i could have-” his apology was cut short by you leaning over to embrace him. it took a second to process, but soon his arms were tangling themselves with yours. neither of you minded the wall separating you two, as it hadn’t altered the gratification of his homecoming.

he briefly broke away from the hug to bring the flower back to your attention, hand reaching up to tuck it softly behind you ear, then pausing to admire the slight before him.

“it’s a glaze lily. native to liyue; they always reminded me of you. though this is a feeble attempt at reconciling the fact that i wasn’t allowed to see you last, i hope you accept it.”

prickles of tears threatened to form in your eyes as you wordlessly invited him in. as he skillfully maneuvered himself through your window, he let you into another embrace as he was allowed to fully connect the hug.

“kazuha,” you murmured into his shoulder. his grasp softened the second he heard his name grace your lips, “i understood, i knew one day we would reunite.”

“i thought of you everytime the moon reached its peak onboard the crux. not one night passed by without wishing i could have had a proper goodbye.” he reassured, not wanting to pull away just yet.

“i did too. truth be told, i was even thinking of our memories moments before your arrival.” you leaned back to look into his vermillion eyes. “i missed you.”

“i did too, dearly.” kazuha lowered his lips onto your forehead, sealing his sentiment in such a simple kiss, yet you soaked it in. “i’m here now.”

despite the many nights spent on your bedroom floor as a child, you quite enjoyed the unfamiliar sensation of his body pressed against yours as you drifted off into sleep. whispers of his journey danced in your mind as your consciousness faded. kaedehara kazuha would always find his way back to you.

[starsinthesky5]

you belong with me (mini fic): hotel room || joe burrow x reader

description: sometimes the need to feel each other is just too strong to resist

a/n: SURPRISE! a little bitty standalone type fic before we get to the angstiest fic I've ever writtennnnnn ;) horny hour came to WORK in this fic...

also woah? two fics from me in 1 weekend? and I wrote this in a day? what. so if this is trash, boring, or me yapping, that’s because I wrote this within the last few hours and im sleepy 😋 this was inspired by 2 requests! thank you, you know who you are💗💗

anyway, go check out the one if you haven't!

word count: 5.9 k

warnings: smut (there’s thigh riding in this one 😜), language

you belong with me series masterlist

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"Oh, fuck," Joe whispered to himself as he opened the photos that you just sent him from your hotel room, the need to see you growing just like the tent in his pants as his hormones started to soar.

You both were away in Kansas City for the weekend ahead of the highly anticipated AFC championship game between the Bengals and the Chiefs on Sunday night. Joe had flown to Kansas City with the team as usual while he chartered a private plane for you that was a few hours behind him and he made sure that he booked you a hotel room specifically at the hotel that the team was staying at. He felt comfort in knowing that you were safe and close to him--you were just 8 floors beneath him--since you came to KC alone since his parents would be flying in early tomorrow morning.

Since you technically weren't allowed to see Joe and didn't want to go out in the City all alone, you found yourself absolutely bored out of your mind, not being able to find any entertainment or way to pass the time all alone. You found yourself like this a few weeks ago as well, the night before the first playoff game of the post-season, and remembered what you did to cure your boredom and entertain yourself and Joe.

Spicy Photos.

He loved them the first time so you knew he'd love them just as much this time. Maybe it could even become a 'night before a game' tradition?

So then, you found yourself half naked--only clad in a skimpy, lacy purple lingerie bra & pantie set--seated in front of the large body mirror and tapping away on your camera as you changed up your poses to show off the parts of your body that Joe was obsessed with (your thighs, your breasts, your ass, the crook of your neck where he liked to mark his territory).

Joe got your photos a few moments ago, and he was losing his mind. Especially because you were so close to him right now, close enough for him to see you. Or was he close enough for you to see him?

"Fuck, Y/N," he whispered again as the growing erection in his purple shorts was becoming more and more visible. He needed to see you so badly, he couldn't control himself. Not when you were this close to him. Last time, he was a whole half hour away so he was mostly okay, but this time...this time it was a different story.

Joe opened his camera and snapped a photo of the tent in his pants, a cheeky grin on his face as he went back to your chat and responded to your photos.

Joe: i miss youuuuu

You: i miss youuuuu too, if you couldn't already tell by the photos ;)

He then attached the photo of the tent in his pants, typed up a silly caption, and sent it to you, wishing he could see your reaction in person.

Joe: image 📸

he misses you too 😋

Your eyes widened as you opened the photo and saw what he had just sent you, the silly caption that he typed with it making you bust out laughing.

"There is no fucking way," you laughed to yourself as you flipped onto your stomach and laughed even harder into the pillow as you imagined Joe taking that photo and typing up that stupidly adorable caption.

"I can't believe he just sent me that photo," you smiled to yourself, still not quite used to this part of your relationship. How could Joe be so sexy and adorably silly at be the same time? You went back to the texts and quickly typed something up to make sure he didn't think you left him hanging, playing along with his silliness.

You: i miss him too 😪

Joe raised an eyebrow at your sudden straightforwardness but was amused that you were playing along with him.

Joe: you and that damn purple lingerie are reallyyyy doing something to me

He scrolled back up to the photos you sent him, tapping on one that showed off your beautiful smile but also gave him a good view of your perfect breasts. "Fuckk," he shakily breathed out while throwing his head back onto the pillow as he placed his hand on the tent in his pants, the pressure that was building becoming too much for him.

Joe was obsessed with your chest. Whether it was laying on it after a tiring workout while you played with his hair or it was him leaving little love bites along your nipple while he was sending you straight to heaven with each thrust, that was his favorite place to be.

He needed to feel your lips on him again, he needed to feel your fingers scratching down his back, and he needed to feel you.

He needed to see you right now.

Joe quickly went back to the chat, this time hitting the Facetime button instead of texting you. You immediately picked up, a grin growing on your face as you saw his adorable flushed cheeks.

"You're needy tonight," you giggled.

"I need to see you," he said while running his fingers through his hair and moving his curls back. "Like really bad. I can't do this,".

"Joe, you know I can't," you said as you sat up on the bed, his eyes falling down as your body came into the frame. You weren't in the lingerie anymore, but you were wearing a slinky tank top which showed off your beautiful breasts.

"Baby, please," he pleaded. "I can't,".

"If I get caught on your floor, it'll be hell for both of us. Probably me more than you since you're the star of the show and they can't really do anything because it'll hurt everything," you said while moving your hair back.

"Nobody will give you hell, you're my girlfriend. Everyone knows that now," he smiled.

"I know, but being your girlfriend doesn't give me a free pass to bend the rules that every NFL team has to follow," you sighed.

You wanted to see him so bad, but you were scared that you'd get caught and didn't even want to think about what the consequences would be. They had NFL players stay at a hotel the night before a game for a reason--home or away--and it was to prevent any and all distractions and to prevent them from partaking in activities that would release the energy they needed for game day. You both were already pushing it when Joe booked you a room in the same hotel he was staying at, the Bengals Travel Coordinators were not super happy about it, but Joe being Joe somehow convinced them to let it slide just this once.

"Do you have the Mascot suit on you by any chance?" he giggled, referring to the first time you joked about sneaking into his room by trying to pass as the mascot.

"Damn, I think I left it in my other suitcase," you pouted, a soft chuckle coming from his mouth in return.

Although he was laughing with you, he was still serious as hell about getting you in his room one way or another.

"Y/N," he said, turning serious again. "Please. I just need to see you for a little. I'll make sure you won't get caught,".

"And how will you do that?" you asked him, part of you wanting to hear him out.

"You can't come up the elevator because we have staff guarding the it up here so that nobody can come up here other than Bengals personnel, but there are stairs that connect every floor and my room is just 3 doors down from the stairs on this floor. I know that they make the rounds around my hall and the hall on the other side so you'll just have to wait for them to turn the other way," he explained.

"Why does this sound easier than I thought? Was this all I had to do to see him?" you thought, contemplating what you should do.

You would be lying if you weren't as turned on as Joe was right now. That photo he sent you made think some things and feel some feelings but you ultimately came to the consensus that you needed him right now.

Your brain was fogging up with thoughts of Joe. Thoughts of his lips pressed against yours, his hands massaging your plush skin, the dirty sounds of pleasure leaving his lips, the mere sight of him on the brink of coming undone. He was the only thing you could think about right now. With the way your heart was pounding in your chest and the way the heat was slowly rising up your body, you were either two seconds away from passing out or two seconds away from saying something that would really set you both off.

"Please," he begged again, a gush of wetness pooling at your core because of his husky voice.

"Fuck it," you whispered, you needed Joe. "I’ll be there in a little bit," you said as you got up and hastily searched for your clothes.

Joe immediately sat up on the bed, a huge satisfied grin on his face as a thrill shot up his spine. "I love you," he smiled.

"I love you too much, that's why I'm doing this," you giggled as you placed your phone down on the dresser and quickly slipped on your flimsy sleep shorts and tank top. "I'll see you in a few, okay?" you said to him once you picked up the phone again.

"Be careful," he said before you gave him a quick nod and hung up, then placed your phone back onto the table so you could slide your Uggs on. You grabbed your room's keycard and took a deep breath before opening the door.

About 10 minutes later, you were slowly climbing up the stairs as you were hot, sweaty, and out of breath. "W-what the fuck," you sighed as you stopped to collect your breath. "I need to go to the gym more," you panted, rolling your eyes when you saw that you were only on floor 7 and still had 4 more to go and you already climbed up 4 flights of stairs.

"Only for Joe," you laughed as you continued up the stairs. You wouldn't be caught dead doing this for another man, but for Joe? Anything. You'd move planets for the person that you've been in love with for 9 years if he asked you to, and you had the comfort of knowing that he would do the exact same for you.

Another 10 minutes later, you finally made it to the 11th floor.

"Holy fuck," you said while wiping the thin layer of sweat off your forehead, quickly crouching down once you saw one of the Bengals staff members through the little window in the door. "Fuck," you whispered as you peeked your head up to see if they saw you or not, which they didn't.

"Any minute now," you whispered, waiting for them to turn around and go down the other hallway.

You watched carefully for about two minutes, getting impatient as they took their sweet time before you saw them turn around and start walking down to the other hallway.

"Finally," you whispered to yourself as you stood up and quietly twisted the door handle, carefully stepping out into the hallway before gently shutting the door behind you.

You slowly walked down the hallway, counting 3 doors down from the stairs but realizing Joe never told you which door 3 doors down was his room.

You reached for your phone to text him but were met with an empty pocket. A frustrated sigh leaves your lips when you realize you left your phone on the table.

"Ugh. Left or Right?" you whispered to yourself as you looked back and forth between the doors. "This is like a game of roulette," you soughed. You eventually chose the left door, accepting that if you were wrong you would quickly leave the floor with your tail between your legs and go back down 8 flights of stairs to your room.

"Okay," you breathed out before making your hand into a fist and knocking on the door, in an uber-specific pattern.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-Knock", matching the start of the chorus with a steady beat.

Pause for 1 second.

One slow Knock "Knock", reflects the continuation of the melody.

Pause for 1 second.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-knock", follows the rhythm as the chorus progresses.

Pause for 1 second.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-Knock", ends the pattern in sync with the final beats of the chorus.

It aligned with the Chorus of the song "Night Changes" by One Direction, a song you and Joe were obsessed with back at OSU. A song you made a special knocking sequence to for times you showed up at each other's rooms unannounced for whatever reason. You made this special sequence up because there were times you didn't want to see other or hang out with other people, but you always wanted to see each other no matter the circumstance. This knocking sequence always let you both know who was at the door.

"Hm, that's ironic," you giggled as you remembered the Chorus of the song.

"We're only getting older baby and I been thinking about it lately, Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes, Everything that you've ever dreamed of, Disappearing when you wake up, But there's nothing to be afraid of even when the night changes, It will never change me and you,".

It did drive you crazy just how fast the night changed for you and Joe. Everything around you changed in the past 9 years--your ages, your careers, your lifestyles, your relationships--but the one thing that never changed was you and Joe.

And that was the one thing that was never going to change.

While you were lost in thought, you felt the door open as a whiff of air hit your face, your precious 6’4 boyfriend standing right in front of you.

"Oh thank god," you said, letting out a relieved sigh before you felt Joe grab your hand and yank you into the room, quickly closing the door before he leaned down and smashed his lips against yours. You were a bit taken aback by the intensity of the kiss, but it only took you 5 seconds to melt in Joe’s arms and lose your cool. His hands were firmly placed on your waist, the pads of his fingers massaging the soft skin of your hips, as he backed you both up to the couch across the room.

He felt the back of his knees hit the couch before he pulled away from the kiss and plopped down, spreading his legs extremely wide as he patted his lap for you to sit down. "Come here," he smirked, you gave him a quick nod before placing a knee on either side of his thighs and sitting down in his comfortable lap, the hardness underneath you making your hormones take over.

You cupped his face with your hands and pulled his face closer to yours, capturing his perfectly pink lips in another kiss. His hands landed on your waistline again, "Mm, I haven't heard that knock in years," he said in between the kiss.

"I had to let you know it was me," you whispered as you slid your lips to the corner of his mouth, peppering wet kisses up his jaw as his hands slid underneath the flimsy fabric of your tank top.

"I missed you," he rasped as you felt his other hand land on the back of your head, pulling you right back to his lips.

His hand then moved to the straps of your tank top, slowly pulling one down as he pulled away and moved his lips to your collarbone.

"Joe," you quietly moaned as you tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him to worship. You felt him attach his lips to his favorite spot on your neck, rhythmically sucking and biting the skin as he marked his territory--a special reminder to those who didn't know who you belonged to.

"Baby," you breathed out, grabbing his head by his hair and pulling him back up to your lips, your noses bumping into each other as your tongues tangled in each other's mouths. It was driving you insane, the more his hands moved around your body the more desperate to feel him everywhere you got. You wanted him to rip your clothes off and have you right then and there, but you were playing a risky game. If anyone walked past his door, they would 100% hear you two going at it.

His hands dropped down to your ass, kneading the flesh with his large veiny hands as he began to rock you back and forth in his lap. You instantly pulled away, taking note of how his big blue eyes were screaming 'fuck me' at you right now.

"Joe, we can't," you breathlessly said, his movements not stopping at your hesitance.

You feel him grab your waist again, scooching you over so that you are now straddling one of his thick, muscular thighs and not his lap. "Yes, we can," he whispered in your ear, heat pooling in your stomach as you feel his large thigh against your aching clit.

Joe continues to slowly rock you back and forth against his thigh, a tingling sensation all over your body as your clothed clit rubbed against his thigh; the flimsy fabric of your shorts practically had you bare against his leg. You leaned your head back as you let out a moan that was a little louder than you both preferred.

"Fuck," you whined at the stimulation his thigh was giving you. Joe lifted one of his hands to cover your mouth, "Shh, baby. Another one of those and this will be over a lot faster than we want, and it won't have a nice ending either," he warned as you looked back down at him.

You gave him a nod as you continued to move back and forth against his thigh, his purple shorts riding further and further up his leg because of your movements. The wetness from your core was seeping out of your underwear, and your rocking hips were spreading it along his thigh.

God, you loved his thighs. They were so thick and muscular and the perfect seat. Whenever you saw photos of Joe doing his typical man-spread, you lost it. The thighs were always the highlight of the show, not his face, not his arms, his thighs.

"That's it, baby," he said while guiding you back and forth, somehow enjoying this even more than you were even though he was receiving no stimulation from this.

"Joe," you whimpered, his big hand muffling your moan, feeling him bounce his leg underneath you which made your moans come out in short gasps. "J- Joe," you moaned again, your belly fluttering at the new movement.

You lifted your hand and moved his hand off your mouth, then leaned in and captured his lips in another kiss to hopefully stifle your moans.

Joe was taking part in a mental battle right now, trying to fight off the urge to take you to the bed in front of him and fuck you into oblivion. He needed to feel you more than he already was, but if he did you both would get caught very quickly.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head that could solve your problems--the shower.

Nobody would be able to hear you both in the bathroom, especially with the running water.

He decided to hold off on that for a few minutes, allowing you to continue to do what you needed to feel your rapidly building high. He pulled away from the kiss again, lifting your head with his hand, "Look at me, Y/N," he whispered. His thumb stroked your bottom lip as he looked intensely into your glossy eyes, "Keep going," he encouraged, your movements getting faster against his thigh.

"Joe, I'm so close," you quietly whimpered, your clit pressed firmly against his thigh as the band in your belly tightened. You ran your hands up his arms, then gripped his shoulders as you continued to ride his thigh, your body starting to tremble on top of him as his cock grew harder at the feeling of wetness spreading along his leg.

"That's it, that's my fucking girl...you're so fucking sexy riding me like this," he whispered in your ear, his hands wandering along your body again as he pressed a kiss to your ear before lightly biting your earlobe. “Come for me, come on my thigh,” he whispered.

"Joe," you moaned loudly, dropping your head to the crook of his neck as you picked up the pace, your pleasure just a few seconds away. There was truly no place you'd rather be right now than the comfortable embrace of Joe's arms. This was your home. He was your home.

You bit down on the tan skin of his neck to stifle your moan, knowing that this one would be particularly loud as you let yourself go. "Mmph, Joe," you moaned as you felt the band in your tummy snap, your core gushing with wetness as most of it seeped out onto his leg.

"Fuck, Y/N," Joe breathed out, feeling a cool moisture pooling on his thigh as you quivered above him. "Baby, I need you," he whispered in your ear, your face coming back up from the crook of his neck.

"Joe, I- I told you, we c- can't," you choked out, aftershocks of your high washing over you.

"We can in there," he said as he motioned to the bathroom with his head.

All the hesitance and apprehension left your head about 4 minutes ago, so you honestly could not care less about what would unfold once you got in the bathroom. You didn't care if you got caught, as risky as that sounded. "Okay," you nodded, Joe immediately got up from the couch with you in his lap, his hands firmly placed on your ass as you wrapped your legs around him. You rested your cheek against his chest, whispering "I love you" to him in which he pressed a loving kiss to your forehead in return.

A few minutes later, you were in the bathroom, completely bare as the hot water of the shower was falling around you. You were pressed up against the cool glass of the shower door as Joe was spending some more time around your neck, especially at his favorite spot.

Your fingers played with his wet curls as you used them to pull his face back up to yours so that you could kiss him again. "We have to be quick," you mumbled in between the kiss. "I have to get out of here before lights out,".

"Okay," Joe nodded, his hands reaching down to cup your ass, hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around his thick body. "Fuck, I needed this," he sighed as he looked deeply into your eyes again. "I needed you,".

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then," you smirked before pulling him back for another kiss, this one way messier and needier than the others.

After another minute of attacking each other's swollen lips, Joe lined his rock-hard cock with your already-soaked core, thrusting all the way inside as you let out a loud moan and threw your head back against the glass.

"Ah, Joe," you hissed, the feeling of him filling you up all the way still new even though you'd done this quite a few times since December.

"Fuck, Y/N," Joe groaned as he felt your walls wrap around his thick shaft, his hips snapping into yours after a few seconds of getting comfortable.

"Oh my god," you cried out after you felt his cock grazing your g-spot, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Yeah? You like that?" Joe panted in your ear after giving you another hard thrust which made him hit the spot.

"Yeah," you whimpered, his cock continuing to slam into your cervix, making you re-think your entire existence. The way he was going about this was driven by pure lust, love, and need. This was exactly what he needed right now, and you were giving it to him with open arms; and open legs.

You were the most addictive thing on this earth, he could never stay away from you and if he tried, he'd have withdrawals. For example, if you didn't sneak into his room, he would've had all this pent-up energy inside of him that would most likely turn into anxiety for tomorrow's game. But it wasn't, thanks to you.

For most, this would be a distraction. But for Joe, this was the best way to relax. The perfect way to collect himself, he just needed to be with you. You always made him lose his worries, lose his nerves, and make him calm down. You were exactly what he needed.

And you almost said 'No' to coming up to his room, pathetic.

A few minutes later, Joe leaned back a little and leaned down, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he rhythmically rolled his hips into yours, making sure that he touched every spot on your body that he loved.

"Don't stop, Joe. Don't ever stop," you cried out, feeling your second high building in your stomach as he continued to pound into you. You ran your nails along his back, lightly digging into the skin while Joe hissed around your breast at the burning sensation he was feeling.

After a few moments of showing your perfect breasts some love, he moved back up to your face, "Y/N, you feel so good," he moaned.

The sights and sounds of his flushed cheeks, tousled & wet curls, and open-mouthed moans drove you insane.

You felt your legs starting to burn from the rough thrusts of his cock, also because of what transpired on the couch earlier. "Babe, I'm close," you panted as you gripped his broad shoulders.

"Hang on for me," he softly whined, picking up the pace of his deep thrusts which sent you straight over the edge, your walls tightening around his veiny cock.

"Oh my fucking-," you moaned before you felt the tip of his cock hit a spot he hadn't hit before, causing your orgasm to rip through your body like a strike of lightning. "Joe!" you screamed as you grabbed his wet curls and tightly pulled on them.

"Y/N," Joe panted as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, your walls convulsing around his twitching cock. "Fuck, I'm," he choked out, his orgasm begging to be released.

"I know, I know," you soothed as you rubbed his back while coming down from your high. "I'm here," you said while kissing his reddened cheek. "I'm right here,"

A few more thrusts later, you felt him let go as your walls were coated with warm spurts of his cum, Joe continuing to whimper and moan into your ear as he felt his high come over him. "F- Fuck, you're incredible,".

"I love you," he panted, trying to catch his breath as he gently let go of your legs and set you back on the ground, your knees buckling as you fell right into him. "Woah, I got you," he smiled as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you," you giggled as you clung onto him, the hot water falling on both of you making you feel even more refreshed than your previous orgasms.

About 10 minutes later, you both dried each other off and made it out of the shower. You slipped your clothes back on before brushing your wet hair in the mirror while Joe changed into a fresh pair of shorts behind you, your eyes widening at the red scratches on his back.

"Oh, shit," you gasped as you flipped around to look at his back. "I'm sorry,".

"No need to say sorry, princess," he smiled. "I like it when you leave a mark," he winked.

"But the guys are probably going to give you shit for it," you frowned. "They'll see that those are fresh and figure it out,".

"If the guys find out, they'll be too busy bitchin' about how it's not fair for them to not be able to see their girls before a game to care that you broke about a dozen league rules," he laughed. "Besides," he added as he placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around so that you were facing the mirror again. "I left plenty of marks on you," he said while resting his chin on your shoulder and moving your wet hair to the back to show off your neck, a prominent purple love bite on your neck with a few small, faint ones scattered around it.

"Good thing I brought extra concealer," you giggled as you felt Joe pepper kisses along your neck.

"Mhmm," he hummed as he looked back up and met your tired eyes in the mirror. "I still can't believe you actually snuck up here. We should do this more often next season,".

"Woahhh, slow down, Burrow. I had to climb 8 flights of stairs to get up here. My legs are about to snap in half and I have 8 more flights to go down to go back to my room. This is def a once in a once-in-a-blue-moon deal," you nodded. "Stairs are not my thing,".

"Fine," he sighed, earning a pleased smile from you. "I'll be looking forward to the next time we get to repeat this little rendezvous, though,".

"I know you will," you winked before looking up at the clock, seeing that it was almost time for you to make your sneaky exit. "I should get going," you said as you flipped around in his hold.

"Okay," he nodded, tucking your wet hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you at the game tomorrow, okay?" you nodded.

"Yeah," Joe nodded again while giving you a soft look with his eyes.

"I want you to know that no matter what happens tomorrow night, I'm so proud of you, Joe. You've truly had one of the best years since you've been in the league and regardless of what goes down tomorrow, you did your best and went above and beyond. I love you so much and I'm so happy and proud of you," you smiled while you cupped his cheek and pulled his face down to press a kiss to the crown of his forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N. That really means a lot," he said while letting out a deep breath. "I love you. Thank you for being here," he said while leaning in for a sweet, purely innocent kiss.

"I'm always here," you said against his swollen lips after you pulled away.

After a few more minutes of saying goodbye to each other, you took a peek outside the hallway to see if the coast was clear; which it was.

You stepped outside into the hall, slowly and quietly inching towards the door to the stairs before you heard a familiar voice call your name behind you. "Y/N?" the deep voice spoke up.

"Fuck. Ja'marr," you whispered to yourself, instantly recognizing the voice and turning around.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing up here?" he loudly said as he walked closer to you.

"I....uh....," you mumbled, not being able to come up with an excuse for why you were on this floor.

"Wait a second," he said as he looked at your wet hair, the purple spots on your neck which you clearly couldn't cover since your makeup was in your room, and your blissed-out facial expression and glow.

"Ain't no fuckin' way," he said, bursting out laughing as he realized he just caught you in a walk of shame. "No fucking wayyyy,".

"It's not what you think," you nervously shook your head.

While you were attempting to come up with an excuse, Joe opened his door because he heard a ruckus outside and decided to see what was going on, but he froze at the doorstep once he saw both you and Ja'marr look back at him.

"Oh my god," he said while laughing harder once he saw Joe's wet hair matching your wet hair. "You two seriously...right now...at the team hotel...oh my GOD," he said, his entire body shaking at how hard he was laughing.

"Ja'marr please don't tell anyone," you begged as you looked over at Joe.

"Joe, you do realize she probably just broke about a dozen rules by doing this, right?" Ja'marr asked while looking back at him.

"It was actually my idea," Joe said while scratching his neck, his cheeks turning red out of embarrassment.

"Man, why you so fuckin' horny lately?" Ja'marr shook his head, a laugh coming from your lips as you saw Joe's cheeks turn even more red. "I get you have a hot girlfriend and you're making up for 9 years worth of sex, blah, blah--not to be weird--but damn Joe, keep that shit in your pants till you get home," he lectured.

"Yeah, Joe. Keep it in your pants," you teased as you gave him a wink.

"Y/N, please. Spare me," Joe playfully rolled his eyes. "Maybe save the lingerie pics for when we get back home then,".

Your jaw fell open at his lack of filter considering you were with Ja'marr right now.

"Okayyy, I don't need to be a part of this conversation," he laughed. "Yall can have your lovers quarrel later. We have 5 minutes before lights out and the staff comes to check the rooms, Joe. So Y/N needs to get outta here or you're both fucked,".

"Well, I was just leaving until you stopped me," you huffed.

"Well, your secret is safe with me...for now," he grinned. "Yall owe me, remember that," he said while pointing at you two.

"You got it," you laughed as you gave him a salute. "I'm gonna go now," you said while looking back at Joe, a small smile on his lips as if he was enjoying this situation.

"Bye, Y/N," Ja'marr waved like a little kid.

"Bye, Ja'marr," you laughed before looking back at Joe.

"Bye, J. I love you and remember what I said earlier," you said while shooting him a loving smile.

"I love you too, and I will, " he smiled while giving you a small wave.

"Man, are yall still talking dirty right now? For real? 'Remember what I said earlier?' No. Joe don't need to remember whatever the fuck you whispered in his ear while going at it," Ja'marr said with a disgusted look on his face.

"That's not what I-...you know what? Never mind," you said while throwing your hands up and turning around to open the door to the staircase, a smile tugging at your lips as you heard Ja'marr and Joe laugh behind you while you closed the door behind you and slowly made your way down the stairs.

"Man, yall are really something," Ja'marr said when he walked back over to Joe's doorstep.

"What do you expect me to do," Joe shrugged. "I've been after her for 9 years. Let me have my fun with my girlfriend,".

"Have fun, but don't have too much fun," Ja'marr laughed as he patted Joe's shoulder and walked back to his room.

"That's considered too much fun? Please," Joe whispered to himself while turning around and going back into his room. "We're just getting started," he said with a content grin on his face.

--The End--

[aimbutmiss]

Mihawk was surprised when Crocodile came up to him with the idea of Cross Guild, which was surprising in itself, because it took a lot to get such reaction out of the stoic man. Mihawk's initial reaction was to assume Crocodile had finally gone mad after his fall from grace. But it didn't take him long to see the full picture. Buggy's debt and the sheer amount of men who adored him in his crew...he could be used easily and efficiently. But Mihawk didn't care about all that. He wasn't a businessman like Crocodile, he didn't care about money or power like him. But despite this, he still agreed. There were two main reasons why he did so:

1- He was bored. With Zoro and Perona gone, he was left on his own on his dreary island. (No offence to the humandrills, but they weren't exactly good company) At first he was quite happy about his situation, he did value his solidarity after all. However, that bliss didn't last very long. He quickly found his usual routine to be repetitive and dreadful, more and more as the days passed. Losing his warlord status right after triggered a fuse in his mind. He could do anything he wanted (not that the government ever got in the way of him doing as he pleased) but he realised that he didn't know what it was that he wanted. Crocodile's offer reminded him of the offhand conversations he used to have with Shanks at dirty bars, which brings us to the second point:

2- He was very intrigued by Buggy. Shanks babbled a lot after he had a bit too much to drink, more than usual at least. But he would still have some level of awareness no matter how drunk he was, never letting his guard completely down. This was not the case with Mihawk. They were close friends, something even more at some point, so Shanks felt comfortable enough to open the dam holding back his words around him. Mihawk appreciated this, not only because it was a huge show of trust, but also because of how entertaining his stories were. Stories about wars and victories, the Pirate King and Dark King Rayleigh... It was all so intriguing. But everything somehow always circled back around to one man: Buggy. Mihawk had never heard of him before, but if Shanks' words were to go by he must have been truly exceptional. Shanks used to have this lovesick look on his face whenever he talked about his old friend, sometimes even straight up sobbing in front of him. This man, who was on Gold Roger's crew and made Shanks fall head over heels in love, perplexed Mihawk. How could such a man exist, hiding his existence for so long? Oh, how he longed to meet him.

Unfortunately for Mihawk, their first meeting didn't go according to plan. Marineford was a mess. He wasn't very interested in the government's goals, he just wanted to see how far straw hat would go. That boy's potential shone so bright, it didn't surprise him one bit that red hair also saw it. What he didn't expect at all though, was to run into the Buggy from Shanks' stories, who was being used like a human shield by straw hat. So, it didn't phase Mihawk one bit when his sword cut straight through the man but he quickly put himself back together. The blue hair, the red nose, this couldn't possibly be anyone else. Mihawk had a certain image of Buggy in his mind, but that all shattered at one look at this man-baby in front of him. There was no way this was the man Shanks was praising left and right, right? Or perhaps, Shanks' stories were always tinted with rose coloured glasses and very far from the truth. How disappointing. But still, something didn't sit well in Mihawk's mind. There must have been some amount of truth to the words he heard. He wanted to see more, but unfortunately didn't have the opportunity to catch the clown again, with Shanks arriving and all. Yet here it was, two years later, Crocodile was handing him a second chance on a silver platter. He simply couldn't refuse.

And so, he agreed to playing house with Crocodile. It was obvious why the man had reached out to him instead of, literally anyone else. Mihawk was strong. He had a strong hold on the use of haki, which the other man lacked. He could easily protect them while Crocodile ran the business part of things. They would work well together, covering each other's weak points. The more obvious reason though, was the fact that Mihawk happened to be one of the very few people Crocodile got along with. That man had a habit of making enemies of everyone he came across, which was not surprising considering he wasn't very likable. But that never bothered Mihawk, he did like a challenge.

The more he got to know Buggy, the more he hated the man, which was not what he was going for at all. He tried his best to see any good traits in him, but repeatedly failed to do so. The man was like a soggy, wet mop, who cried at any chance. He was way too easy to push around, and Mihawk kept doing it because the damn clown was so annoying. His voice, his mannerisms all got on his nerves. This was it, giving up was the only choice. There was no way this clown had any redeemable quality. Shanks was just more insane than he initially thought, whatever. It was just wasted time, and he wouldn't waste any more of it.

Just as he had decided on his departure from Cross Guild and had mentally prepared himself to clash with Crocodile (which he really didn't want to do, he actually liked the man) fate decided this was not the end. All the stalking he did payed off as slowly, he started seeing the clown in a new light. It was the small things at first. The man clearly cared for his crew, and it was almost sweet. He'd always put aside time to train in acrobatics with Cabaji, and to groom Richie with Mohji. He and Alvida had tea time together, giving the woman her much needed gossip time. He was more silent with his closer confidants, he let them do the talking while he listened. He let Cabaji teach him new moves, to help him out when he struggled. He laughed at Mohji's horrible jokes. And it wasn't that boisterous clown laugh, oh no, it was much more...quiet. Yet somehow more vibrant. It was genuine. He let Alvida paint his nails, and let Richie lick his face even when it got red and irritated. He was usually known for his grand gestures as the "genius jester", but he showed his love much more subtly to his friends. It was almost refreshing to see the difference. Almost like the usual Buggy was a performance, a show. And Mihawk was finally seeing the backstage.

Then, one day, he ran into him in the library. He was in his colourful pyjamas, hair tied into a bun and no clown makeup to cover his face. No makeup. One look into his sea green eyes and Mihawk finally started to understand what Shanks must have been thinking. This man was beautiful. And he was holding one of his favourite books.

"D-do you want me to leave? Because I totally can! I'll be out of here in a jiffy-"

"No need. You may stay."

Mihawk didn't know what came over him, but he walked over to the other man. "I quite enjoyed that one. Which chapter are you on?"

And just like that, their unofficial book club started. Buggy was a lot more clever than he let on. Mihawk quite enjoyed listening to his opinions about the books they read. One day, it stopped just being books. They'd talk about anything and everything. Mihawk hated to admit it, but this was exactly what he was missing on Kuraigana: companionship. He felt comfortable with Buggy, and it felt way too easy to fall into a routine with him. Buggy was knowledgeable on a lot of things. He knew chemistry and physics, spending a lot of time in his workshop working on his bombs. He was also a stellar navigator. Clearly his apprenticeship under Roger hadn't been for nothing like it seemed. And when he spoke of old tales, he wouldn't smile like Shanks did. His eyes were carrying sadness and sorrow Mihawk couldn't comprehend. How fascinating, that the same experiences can bring completely different emotions to different people.

When he wanted to try to see Buggy more from red hair's perspective, his goal wasn't falling in love. But that's exactly what happened. It happened all too quickly. He got back into his farming and cooking hobby, because now he felt he had a reason to settle down on Karai Bari. A lot of his cooking ended up on Buggy's plate. Unintentionally, at first, but it made the clown so happy that Mihawk didn't have it in himself to stop. If anything, he started to spend a lot more time in the kitchen. And the escalation of their relationship wasn't one sided, Buggy had also started feeling more comfortable around him. (Which definitely didn't make Mihawk fill with warmth) He started asking things of him like "Can you brush my hair?" "Can you watch me perform this trick?" and Mihawk found that he was losing his ability to say no at an alarming rate. He was falling for the man. He took that revelation with grace, he wasn't the type to deny his feelings, unlike a certain someone. (Crocodile's denial of his feelings for Buggy is a whole other story that was happening consecutively to all this) And as he watched Buggy polish Yoru with careful hands and focused eyes, he found it all too easy to understand Shanks. No wonder this man had an army of men following him, willing to do anything he said. Buggy the Clown was dangerous, and he just added Mihawk's name to his long list of victims.

Mihawk's mouth curved upwards as he took the shiny sword from a smiling Buggy. He found that just this once, he didn't mind being a victim at all.

[kwillow]

(1/3) I adore the new comic with Alex, Ridge and Theo! The insight into how Theo's "healing magic" can be used is fantastic and the art is beautiful (as usual) to boot. A question, also: In the background of the last panel, there's several paintings in the background--what looks like three of Jocosa, but also a regular ermine. I recall that beasts (aka animals as we know them) are present in Amaranthine and associations/taboos with them vary by region. In Northcrest, are ermines seen as

Funny that you say there's three portraits of Jocosa in this comic - she is there, but her painting rests alongside these other members of her storied family. Most people who noticed the paintings thought they were all Jocosa, though! I don't blame anyone for being confused. The Norths are infamous for all looking the same.

(Also, they are probably slightly easier to tell apart here, when their portraits aren't covered by 5 years of dust - Theo really needs to clean that place up.)

Anyway, thank you so so much for your compliments on the comic! I will put the rest of your message and answer your questions under the cut.

Ermine Motifs

The ermine isn't a pet, but simply an ermine. The Norths are unusually obsessed with their "source" animal, and use the image of ermines as representations of their power and prestige. Like you predicted, ermines feature prominently in their decor and fashion. Ermine-shaped badges, ermines on rugs, ermine newel posts (that's a fun word!), and ermine paintings. It's a little obnoxious. They hold a peculiar reverence for the creatures while also being extremely willing to wear their skinned pelts as cloaks. They do not think there is anything weird or grim about that.

Part of their fixation comes from the fact that unlike some noble families, ermines feature in their heraldry, so the presence of ermine artwork alludes to their noble status, much like how the royal family of England might display lions. Heraldic ermine spots appear on their coat of arms, and ermines are the shield's supporters. But they are also just self-obsessed and have a fondness for that which reminds them of themselves. Even Theo, despite being of a ratlike persuasion, plays into the North fixation on ermines by occasionally wearing ermine fur and jewelry shaped like heraldic ermine spots.

Closely associating yourself with the animal you resemble was more common in historical times, but the degree to which the Norths do it would still be odd. People with more modern mindsets, more removed from ancient mythical symbolism and more concerned with modern problems of technological advancement and not dying in a frozen wasteland, would consider the Norths to be embarrassing themselves with their ermine obsession. Why are they so heavily identifying with a simple beast? Who cares what kind of animal you look like? Shouldn’t you be more proud of being, you know, a person?

Theo's Catalyst Stone

Yes, the North's catalyst stone is passed down through the generations upon the death of its previous owner. (The teardrop-shaped stone the ancestress is wearing in her portrait is the very same one Theo has stuck in his hand.) Given that Theo slammed the stone into his flesh, he will be the last of his line to use this catalyst stone - and given that he hasn't exactly been a hit on the dating circuit, he will likely also be the last North as well.

Ancient Hyden Encounters

While there were more mages back in Hyden's prime days, it was still a small enough population that it wouldn't be unheard of for Hyden and some early Norths to have crossed paths in their day to day.

Chocodile and I agree that Hyden probably knew some of Theo's ancestors, but we haven't worked out the details of those encounters quite yet. Given the North's seemingly inherent predilection for bitterness and snobbery, they probably didn't get on all that well.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Your ride is here (dark!Ghoap x fem!Reader)

CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation I really really adore @ohbo-ohno and @ceilidho for their amazing takes on writing dark fics with Ghoap and fem!Readers Word count: 3794 AO3

You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry. 

You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep. 

You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside. 

— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea? 

You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate. 

He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…

— Aye, it’s me. 

You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings. 

You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him. 

— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app. 

— Thank ye, lassie. 

He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party. 

The driver is chatty. 

Really fucking chatty. 

— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour. 

You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now. 

— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up? 

You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels. 

— Don’t have any. 

Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely. 

— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone. 

You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing. 

— I’m focusing on my career. 

He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed. 

— Career? How does that work out for ye? 

You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar. 

Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver. 

— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit? 

He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before. 

The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to,  you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least. 

— Um, sir? 

— Aye, lassie? 

He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible. 

— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side. 

— Didnae think I did. 

— What do you mean? My home isn’t…

The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold. 

You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in. 

With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”. 

***

Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment. 

Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass. 

Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand. 

You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself –  he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth. 

He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one. 

The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row. 

Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver. 

He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine. 

Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble. 

He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers. 

You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance. 

Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway. 

You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable. 

— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye? 

He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth. 

— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…

He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress. 

Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough. 

— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home. 

He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now. 

With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you. 

You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips. 

You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke. 

— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off. 

Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this? 

His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl. 

He loves his team – and they will love you as much. 

He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone. 

— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny? Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe. 

Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye. 

— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride. 

The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes. 

— And you aren’t? 

— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though. 

You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it. 

— Goin’ bring her home? 

— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed. 

They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob. 

— Don’t break her yet, Johnny. 

— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me. 

— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls. 

— Too tight for my dick. 

— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky. 

— Never intended to, sir. 

He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold. 

— How is her mouth? 

— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt. 

— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny. 

— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after. 

— Selfish, Mactavish. 

— We all deserve to be selfish. 

Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention. 

— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye? You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team. 

— L..let me…

— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise. 

He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again. 

You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue.