#how joyous to have gotten them back for a short while

[mizgnomer]

David Tennant as the Fourteenth Doctor in a promotional photo for the Doctor Who 60th Anniversary Specials

for Tennant Tuesday (or whatever day this post finds you)

[thehorizonlinex]

Sea Legs

Eric teaches Ariel about his world.

Note: Posted this on AO3 a few days ago but forgot to here. A little scene I made up in my head, the first night of Ariel and Eric’s first voyage. Can’t get these two out of my head and am considering starting a short multi-chapter AU fic of them, let me know if you’d be interested!

Still new at this writing stuff so would love any feedback and comments!

~~~~~

The sky exploded with light as the ship’s crew continued to set off fireworks, booming and dazzling against the darkness. The festivities had been going on for nearly an hour, fiddles providing joyous melodies while sailors danced the night away.

Ariel snuggled closer to Eric on the steps, her gaze still focused on the brilliant colors illuminating the sky. They’d danced for almost the whole hour, her new husband teaching her the steps of the many jigs and dances.

“Have you ever seen fireworks before?” Eric shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, placing it delicately around hers.

“Once,” a smile crept onto Ariel’s face at the memory. “When we first met.”

“Oh?”

Ariel giggled. “The night of the shipwreck.”

Eric took a moment to think. “Oh, right before, you mean. My twenty-first birthday.”

He paused again. “Wait…how did you…”

Ariel felt the blush rising in her cheeks, looking down nervously at her lap and picking at a loose thread on her dress.

“I heard you talking to Grimsby,” she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw the fireworks, and I followed the ship. And I heard you talking. I saw the crew dancing, it was the first time I’d ever seen anything like that.”

She felt his finger touch the underside of her chin, lifting it gently so their eyes met.

“And that’s how you were there to save me.”

“Yes.”

“I had no idea.”

Ariel shrugged, turning her head once again to look out at the dancing crew. It was a miracle they hadn’t all worn out their feet by now.

“You seemed so happy, singing and dancing with all of them. I saw it tonight, too. You’re happiest when you’re on the ship.”

Eric chuckled, his eyes following hers. The crew had gotten ahold of Grimsby, the old man somehow convinced to sway along to the music with Max by his side.

“I hope you like it here,” he said. “I know ship life isn’t for everyone, but whatever’s out there - I want to find it with you.”

“I do like it here,” Ariel said. She turned back to meet his gaze, eyes twinkling in the light. “Though, there is something you could help me with.”

“Anything.”

“What’s a starboard?”

Eric raised a brow. “Come again?”

“The crew, they keep saying starboard. Starboard side, starboard sails…”

“Oh,” Eric laughed, brushing a hand through his dark curls. “It’s right. Port and starboard, that’s what sailors call left and right.”

“Why not just call it left and right?”

Eric paused. “You know…I’m actually not sure. But sailors have lots of words for things no one else calls them by.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm…” Eric took a moment to think, his eyes scanning the ship.

He pointed to the very front of the ship. “The front there, that’s called the bow. And the very back is called the stern.”

“Bow and stern,” Ariel repeated.

“Yeah. Sometimes the stern is called aft, too.”

Ariel nodded.

“The wheel,” Eric pointed out.

“The one I used to kill Ursula.”

“Yes. That’s called the helm.”

Ariel nodded again. “Can I ask one more question?”

Eric drew her closer to him. “You can ask as many questions as you’d like.”

“Why do they call the ship a woman?”

“Oh,” he laughed. “That…it comes from an old sea story. You’d think it’s silly.”

She nudged him. “Tell me.”

“Sailors believe…” he shook his head. “They believe that the king of the seas would be more favorable to girls. So referring to a ship as a ‘she’…well, it’s to appease him.”

Ariel stared at him with wide eyes, before bursting into laughter.

“My father wouldn’t care whether or not the ship was a girl, Eric.”

“Well, yes, I can understand that now.”

“Humans are silly,” Ariel remarked. “But you’re not entirely wrong.”

“No?”

“I do have six sisters. No brothers. So you could say my father does favor girls.”

She straightened up a bit. “Can I practice using the terms?”

Eric tried his best not to smile too hard, at the risk of his new wife potentially mistaking his grin as laughing at her expense. “Of course.”

Ariel pointed to the front of the ship. “The bow.”

She gestured to the back. “Stern. Or aft.”

She pointed left, then right. “Port and starboard.”

The wheel was last. “The helm.”

She took a breath, her brows knitted in deep focus. “I used the helm to turn the ship port side so the bow of the ship drove into Ursula.”

She looked up at him again. “Was that right?”

Eric couldn’t help the beaming grin on his face as he reached in for a soft kiss.

“Perfect. You’re a natural-born sailor.”

He didn’t miss her giggle before the corners of his lips lifted into a slight smirk.

“You were wrong about something though.”

She looked into his eyes, warm brown meeting ocean blue.

“What was it?”

“I’m the happiest when I’m with you.”

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted AU: Star: 🌟

Yeah, I finally got to the boy! Took long enough, huh? 😂 So I dud make a short character inspiration from a reblog chain a few weeks ago, so I'll go more into Star's character here:

So, much like the film itself, Star comes to Earth because of Asha's wish was so powerful, and aids her save Rosas. However, for "Wish Granted", he has no idea how to actually grant her wish. She basically fills him in on what's going on, and agrees to help. But he doesn't really understand why they need help. From his point of view, most of the humans on this part of Earth, and especially in Rosas look happy enough. He's just utterly fascinated with the animals, the trees, Asha, and just experiencing what humans see everyday.

But then he visits the Hamlet (in an animal disguise) when Asha wants to say goodbye to her Saba and mother. Star sees how sick Sabino has gotten, and the fear Sakina has for her daughter going back into danger. The Starboy sees that Asha's wish is entirely to help her family and community. (Its greatly emphasized once he gets to Rosas itself too) He partially understands and gladly accepts the task to help her. Asha can't believe this magical boy is a Star, it should be impossible. But just as her father said, the stars are there to believe in possibility. Star here is the impossible, made possible! Its no wonder his loveable and joyous personality leads her to falling for him! 😆

I took inspiration from this segment of the concept art book where they attempted to give plushie Star some kind of depth and character arc leftover from Starboy. They really tried to give Star something more than just being a toy, and Disney said "nah, a toy is good enough. Kids will love it." So Star's arc will be he starts off naive about the world and thinks everything is perfect. But once he starts seeing more of the people having other emotions other than happiness, he's processing how a human feels this. It hits harder when he actually feels a wish get destroyed, he feels their pain for a while after he connects with them. This is all going to connect to "At All Costs" when finally get that love confession scene! 😉

Now, my favorite part: POWERS!!! Star can shapeshift into different animals he sees, with his telltale sign of him being gold with white fur/hair. (Example image below) He's got a white six pointed star on his parts of his body that glow slightly, even in a human form, its just covered up by his black caped outfit.

I still kind of hate that Disney actually thought Star was too similar Genie just because he changes into animals. Like, what are you talking about? (I actually thought of MK or Beast Boy more than Genie.) Yeah, Genie could do that too, but he also changed costumes, size, shape, face, broke the 4th wall and did impersonations of movie actors of the time. Star didn't do all that. Besides, YOU MADE MAUI CHANGE INTO ANIMALS AND APPROVED OF IT!

Rant aside, He can change into any animal, but only has one human form. That's not only because there's way too many variations of people for him to adapt and he's not at that level of power yet. He mainly choose this particular human form because.... he thought Asha would like it. (He even gets the cape idea after he sees a picture of Magnifico. He just LOVED how that looked) Think of it as a boy trying make himself look better for the girl he has a crush on. 😂 His design is inspired by these three pieces of concept art combined with a dash of a superhero vibe. (Superheroes are hardwired into my brain, I tried my best NOT to do that! 😂)

Star can make animals talk, at least for a limited time, like when be has his big introduction song and the forest animals are his band. Animals are naturally attracted to Star, because he literally radiates pure joy and love. Those little critters just adore him! Think of this scene here:

One last thing to add is that once he's on Earth, and gets into Rosas, thus is when he gets the most attached to the planet. He has a big family with the stars, but he really wanted to be where the people are. He wants to see them dancing, ect...Meeting great people didn't just end with Asha, but also meeting the 7 Teens. He learns about their wishes as one desires, while confused on Simon's sleepiness/sadness. He actually attempts to heal Simon and can gain a new power. Star is not sure on how to react to Dahlia, who doesn't seem to have a wish. She seems happy cooking for the king (whom she has a crush on) and queen, no questions asked. Although, Dahlia does seem particularly curious about Star, even before finding out his magical side. She even tries to tell him to give up on granting Asha's wish, but he's definitely not doing that. 😂

When he meets the King and Queen, let's just say there's going to be a lot of angst/comedy with that. But when he has the mini stand off with Amaya. OH BOY, he's going to understand way more heavy emotions after meeting her...

(Star in this version is voiced by Jeremy Jordan, because he's a musical and VA legend! Plus he sounds so fun in every role he's in!)

Aaaand, that does it for Star! I mentioned in another post how when you look into his eyes, you can see microscopic galaxies or mini stars in eyes, like you can see the universe in his eyes! (When it gets to the At All Costs song, Asha can be seen in his eyes like she becomes part his universe) Any other bits will be revealed later, but I wanted to flesh the guy out here! He's a lot of fun to write and draw!

Now next up are the King, Queen and their ferocious yet spoiled pet Lynx! 😉

@signed-sapphire @oh-shtars @chillwildwave @lazytitans-world @emillyverse @annymation @kstarsarts @uva124

[teeful-corner]

"Serving: Side Order"

CHATPER 2 | " Bay "

[O.Sci.L] " The others had been nothing short but failures, we need a new body. Find me a fresh one, a healthy one this time; make sure they can withstand the trails that will come ahead of them and don't fail me this time. "

[O.Sci.3] " Yes, sir. "

[O.Sci.L] " You don't know how much time we have. We need to prefect this. "

[O.Sci.3] " Understood. We'll acquire all the materials that you need. "

2 YEARS PRIOR, there was no need to consume yourself in harrow or alarm; with a vibrant city, colorful personalities, and joyous vibrations that echoed throughout everyone, there was no room sorrow. The sound of laughter rang in the air like a melody, chatter scattered throughout the streets, and friends played as though there would be no tomorrow. Competitions sprung in light-hearted manners as the jellyfish manning at the Deca Tower had no room for a lunch break with the constant rotation of Inklings and, the new, Octolings. Everything was right where it needed to be, it needed to change or forceful "fixing".

" They're heading in to the base, left field. "  Spoke an Octoling in a low voice, motioning towards left of the turf field, being stationed with a E-Liter at a eagle-eye advantage point. In a matter of seconds, the target had been disposed of by a teammate of theirs; who showed no remorse by beaming from pointed ear to the next, loving the feeling he gets from being in the middle of a turf war. After a while of uptight battles and competitions, he's finally been able to learn to let loose and enjoy battling a lot more. Though the team, as a whole, has not learned such a motive; being more so true with their leader—who has gotten better, yet still held a more than competitive nature. 

With a cackle, said Leader slid out of the opposing team's firing range allowing their younger Brother to jump out of the ink behind the team, landing the final blows to their back; effectively getting a "Wipe Out" on the opposing team. A silent cheer was shared between the Turf Team as they reclaimed as much land as possible; their feet never touching the enemy ink as all that was purple was covered with yellow. They paid no mind to the respawning team, who tried to rush forward yet had been quickly stopped by the blow of a whistle, dictating that the match was over and the score will be tallied to announce the winners.

Though every Octoling and Inkling standing on that field already knew who had won.

" Sorry, not sorry. " Sniggered the Leader, piercing the opponent's team leader with a glare. It was one of mockery, one that simply had disrespect written all over it. The Leader rolled their neck, cracking a few bones as they stretched up, " But this match is ours. Don't worry though, you and your 'teammates' were good enough practice for us! " The Octoling weaponized with an E-Liter walked over from their spot, just in time to hear the rambling of their Leader to the opposing team.

They couldn't help but glance to the side, shaking their head slightly; This is how it always seemed to go after a turf war match, epically ones that their team has clearly won. " Alright, that's enough.. " Noticing the rage stirring in the opponents, flaring up and spilling out as though flood gates were about to crack open against the pressure of an overflowing river. The Leader turned to one of their most trusted teammates, wrinkling their nose a little as their hands where placed on their hips. With a cock of an eyebrow up from the Octoling, the Leader scoffed a little.

They waved off the Octoling and the other team, dismissively, " Alright, alright! Just saying, this defeat is going to be more than crushing for them! " And with that, the Leader began to walk back towards their base; the Inkling using a Clashblaster, and their little Brother following in tow so the match could end. The Octoling glanced back over at opposing team, giving them a small wave before following after the rest of their team; yet the Octoling could tell that their attempt of pleasantries was not going to accepted in the way they had hoped—thanks to the Leader.

Judd and lil' Judd were quick to announce the winners of the turf war, the resulting being pulled up for both teams to see as soon as they got back to the Deca Tower. To no one's suprise, the opposing team had lost the Turf War match: 94.3% to 5.7%. It was blowing defeat to the other team's self-esteem while the winners celebrate their win rather loudly; the Leader crossed their arms and beamed, as their little Brother and the Clashblaster user started talking about a victory feast for their 27th win in a row against randoms in Turf War.

" I think we can go to that new café that just opened next to the Deca Tower! " Beamed the little Brother, causing the Clashblaster to shake his head; not agreeing with the more downscaled dining option for their feast. The Leader listened as the Clastblaster exclaimed how they should instead go to the Crust Bucker instead! This cause a scrunch of the nose by the younger Brother, yet before he could protest the Octoling stepped forward.

They were swift in doing so, " Hey, I'm going to sit this one out. I have to catch the next train to Splatsville; I need to help a friend move into their apartment. " The Octoling pointed their thumb towards the exist of the Deca Tower, hoping their team didn't mind their last-minute ditch of plans; after all, it's not like they purposefully made these plans to ditch any dinner plans with their team.

The younger Brother nodded, giving the Octoling a softer smile, remembering that the they had shared their plans with the team earlier in the day. " Have safe trip, Bay! We'll save you some of your favorites for when you get back! " The Clashblaster nodded, giving Bay a thumbs up and a toothy grin.

" Don't hurt yourself! " The Leader stated as their arms fell to their side and a joking glint was catch in their eyes. " The torment is only a few weeks away, we can't have our main-man not on the field with us. " Bay shook their head in response to their teammates responses, yet offered them a small smile. They waved the team off as they began to leave Deca Tower, knowing that the younger Brother and Clashblaster user were going to go back to their small tussle; slowly driving the Leader insane to the point where they make the final decision of going to the Crust Bucket. This always seemed to happen, though Bay always tries to make it up to the younger Brother by eating breakfast with him before matches.

" Hey, has anyone heard from Bay? " The younger Brother spoke up, walking over to the rest of the team with a drink in hand; he had been able to get his usual smoothie from the small café near the Deca Tower per usual, though had the strangest feeling about Bay that morning while waiting in the line. Maybe it was just him missing the E-Liter main, as they were always like an older sibling to him; yet for some reason, his brain was rather quick to dismiss that option of reason.

The Leader and Clashblaster main both turned to the younger Brother, a slight confusion shared between them as a single thought was shared. " I thought Bay was keeping communications with you. " The Leader quizzed, pointing at the younger Brother with a cock of his eyebrow. Though his questioning look was met with a simple shake from the younger Brother, as he had not heard a word from bay since the day they had left.

" I thought they were keeping in touch with you. " Gesturing towards the Leader, the Younger Brother frowned their eyebrows as concern began to dawn into their face. The Leader promptly shook their head in return, denying their younger Brother's assumption. They haven't heard anything from Bay either. 

The Clashblaster glanced between the two, " Well Bay defiantly wouldn't have contacted me!… I don't even know if they have my number. " He smiled a little, trying to bring some humor back into the group. Yet the Leader nor the younger Brother seemed to be amused with his comment; a comment in which usually would have gained the chuckle of the younger Brother or Bay. So he hushed for a moment, allowing the leader and younger Brother their moment to think about what Bay could be up to, and why they haven't contacted the group at all. 

They weren't leaving, the two knew that one for sure; They would have just outright told the rest of the group that instead of ghosting them. They were a direct person when it came to important matters, especially those that would have a grave impact on the stability of the team. This allowed any personal issues between a teammate and Bay or Bay quitting to be crossed out of the reason pool. The leader kept their eyes on their younger Brother, who was glancing off to the side with an anxious look as he knew this was not like Bay; leaving without a notice and disappearing off the face of the planet. 

" Maybe they got arrested!- " Started the Clashblaster again, but he was quickly hushed by an Off-The-Hook announcement; their original broadcasting had been playing in the background of the team's chatter for quite some time now, yet the team had ignored it up till this moment.

" A few days ago, an Inkopolis Square residence going by the name of 'Bay' has gone missing. " Marina, the second idol of Off-The-Hook, announced; a look of horror slowly swallowing her face as Pearl, who was sat in a beanbag chair next to Marina, stared at Marina with wide eyes; not expecting that their 'extra news segment' would be about reporting a missing Octoling. " Bay is a young Octoling, around the age of 18. She was hearing a white, rain-coat like coat paired with black leggings and white sneakers when she went missing. Bay's family claims that Bay was taking a train to Splatsville the day they disappeared; Camera footage from the Inkopolis Square Train Station shows footage of Bay boarding their train, yet eye witness states that they never saw them enter the train or get off at their supposed stop. If you have any information about Bay or their whereabouts, please report all information to the police at your convivence. Bay's family and friends hope to have them return back home safe and sound. "

[previous] | Ch. 2 | [next] read on AO3 © ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ˣᵒˣᵒʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍᶜˡᵘᵇ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵖˡᵃᵍᵃʳⁱᶻᵉ , ʳᵉᵖᵒˢᵗ , ᵒʳ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ . ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ, ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ~

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Of Princes and Witches Epilogue- Legolas Greenleaf x OC

Legolas Greenleaf x Alphine Barrowes

Description: N/A

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: And at last we have come to the end of this series! I had so much fun writing it and I'm really wanting to do it again with another oc insert from The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings. Until then, I am so happy with how this turned out and I hope you all enjoy/enjoyed!

It had been just after noon when word finally gotten out: Prince Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland realm was finally marrying his fiance Alphine Barrowes! Their courtship hadn’t really been a known thing amongst people as they courted while traveling around Middle Earth for a few years. Nevertheless, it was a huge event, everyone was talking about it even before the actual day was upon them. 

Naturally, being the son of a King, many people were invited, but the people that Legolas and Alphine made absolute sure of that would attend would be their friends from the Fellowship of the Ring. Gandalf, Gimli, Sam, Frodo, Merry, Pippin and Aragorn as well as the allies they made (such as Haldir, Eomer, Eowyn, Faramir etc) were all invited to the joyous occasion. Every single one of them showed up, not wishing to miss the happiest day of their friend’s lives.

The wedding was held in the palace chapel of Mirkwood’s palace (unsurprisingly). The chapel was absolutely packed with beings of all races. Elves, Dwarves, mortal Men, Hobbits and Fairies all sat mingled amongst each other as they awaited the bride’s glorious entrance. King Thranduil and Legolas all stood at an altar at the front of the room waiting patiently, smiles on all of their faces. The Hobbits (plus Gimli), being so short, were given permission to sit up front so they could see.

Finally, the anticipated moment arrived. Music began playing from somewhere that the Hobbits’ couldn’t really pinpoint, and everyone stood up respectfully. Every guest in the room couldn’t help but gasp as the bride appeared. Alphine looked radiant, like some sort of angel sent to grace the peoples of Middle Earth. She looked so elegant as she began walking down the aisle that for a moment several guests thought that she was floating. Gandalf, being her oldest friend, was the one guiding her since her parents weren’t exactly in the picture. 

All eyes were on Alphine, but she only had eyes for Legolas. She couldn’t help but smile when she realized that the Prince had begun crying. It seemed that the sight of his bride alone had brought up enough motions that ultimately made tears form in his eyes. He turned away to rid his face of the tears silently slipping down his face, and once he turned back around there was an undeniably wide smile on his face and love in his eyes. It was a sweet moment that made several people coo at him, including Alphine internally. 

By the time she reached the altar Legolas was standing at the bottom of the steps waiting to lead her up. Alphine pressed a kiss to Gandalf’s cheek before taking Legolas’ hand, allowing him to lead her to the top of the altar, where Thranduil stood with a proud smile. 

The wedding procession went beautifully. Legolas and Alphine were standing at the altar hand in hand. They faced each other with the widest smile anyone had ever seen on either of their faces. It didn’t even seem like they were fully listening as Thranduil recited a speech over the two of them. 

“Legolas, do ci take Alphine, selyë o Cirrus Barrowes, nacca bestannen indis noin Iluvatar (Legolas, do you take Alphine, daughter of Cirrus Barrowes to be your wedded wife under the Iluvatar)?” Thranduil inquired, facing his son with a proud smile. The Prince couldn’t even begin to force down his smile as he nodded. 

“Inyё (I do),” he responded, not looking away from Alphine. 

“Alphine, do ci take Legolas, anon o Thranduil Opherion, nacca bestannen indis noin Iluvatar (Legolas, do you take Alphine, daughter of Cirrus Barrowes to be your wedded wife under the Iluvatar)?” The girl looked as if she was on the verge of tears. 

“Inyё (I do),” she answered with a nod. With their vows out of the way, all that was left was everyone eagerly anticipating and waiting for Legolas and Alphine’s first kiss as husband and wife. 

“Eithel, by I melehtё invested mi nin, nu I iluvatar, Im sin pronounce ci venno ar indis (Well, by the power invested within me, under the Iluvatar, I now pronounce you husband and wife),” he announced with a proud, bright smile before looking at Legolas. “Legolas, lye calainis miquëcca acairis (Legolas, you may kiss your bride).” 

The Prince wasted no time in pulling Alphine close to him and pressing a delicate kiss on her lips. Almost immediately, deafening cheers filled the chapel along with applause. Once they pulled away they just stared into each other’s eyes, even wider smiles on their faces before they finally looked at the guests.

When the official ceremony had ended, it was time for the guests to move to the ballroom for the reception. It had been gorgeously decorated, but yet again it wasn’t really a surprise considering this was an Elven Kingdom. After everyone found and sat in their designated seats, the feast began. Chatter and laughter was plentiful between eating and drinking only the best wine for the Prince’s wedding. 

The night went beautifully. It began with a speech from Legolas. He thanked everyone for attending such a joyous day before directing his attention to his new wife. He explained how before he met the Witch, his life seemed so unfulfilling, almost to the point of boring, which surprised several people (including the King). Then, he told the story of how they met, and how ever since he just couldn’t take his mind off of her. The thought made several people coo like they had during the bridal march.

Next came cake. Now, cake was not unusual in an Elf’s diet. In fact they were probably one of the most common ones, especially one of high status. What wasn’t as common in their culture were wedding cakes. It was a tradition that mortal Men had made up for special occasions (such as a wedding), one that Alphine had found quite endearing. Sure normal cakes were lovely, but just imagine a cake made specifically for a special occasion! The thought was absolutely delightful and intriguing to her, and so one of her (admittedly few) requests for the wedding was that they would have a special cake made for them. It wasn’t a difficult demand so it was done. 

The cake itself was absolutely gorgeous. Four layers of sweet and delicious vanilla cake topped with pure white icing that was mouth watering just to look at. Though it had been an odd tradition to Elves, there wasn’t a single person not applauding as the bride and groom cut into the cake together. Cake was passed out by the Mirkwood servants, but no one ate a bite until Legolas and Alphine fed each other a bite, as was apparently a key part of the tradition. Citra and Boromir offered their thanks to the servants that brought them a slice of cake then waited until the happy moment before everyone began eating. 

After dinner and dessert had been served, it was time to dance. The second demand Alphine had was another mortal tradition: a husband and bride’s first dance. The orchestra had been playing music in the background the entire time, but once King Thranduil announced that it was time for the dance, they paused and prepared to play the correct song. 

Everyone watched as Legolas stood, then helped Alphine up and led her to the center of the room. All eyes were on them, truly captivated as they began to dance to the music. It was a song Legolas requested be written specifically for the wedding, which made it even more special. The composers had not disappointed either. The song sounded almost ethereal, filled with gorgeous harp strums and melodic flutes with soft vocals to accompany them. 

The couple danced like they were always supposed to dance together, two separate partners meant to come together as one. Their eyes never strayed from each other, and the lovestruck looks never left their faces. The amount of love in their expressions made several people tear up. Everyone could tell just how in love they were with each other. They watched the couple, utterly entranced. Several guests even found themselves swaying along to the music, a smile on their faces. She just couldn’t help it though. It was hard not to watch the couple be so happy with each other. 

The reception felt like it lasted an eternity. The only way Alphine knew that it wasn’t was because the rest of the Fellowship was still there. It had been a very happy and successful day for both her and Legolas. They did get married, after all.

Now, the party had ended and everyone was either given a room for the night or they went home. Alphine followed Legolas to his room once they wished everyone a good night. Well, technically it was their room now, but it still felt a bit odd to say. Once the door closed behind them, they prepared to head to bed. Elves usually didn’t need to sleep, but today (and the days leading up to it) had been rather tiring. Besides, Legolas wanted to be with his wife on their wedding night, so he began changing into more comfortable clothes. 

After that was done he faced Alphine. She was still attempting to get all the clips and ribbons out of her hair, though it didn’t look like she’d gotten very far. A small, amused smile played at the Prince’s lips as he walked over to her. 

“Sit, meleth nin (my love),” he instructed gently, carefully moving her to sit at her new vanity. Once she was settled in he began untying the intricately braided ribbons out, being careful not to pull at her hair. A content sigh left her lips as he did so. She loved when he played with her hair. 

It unfortunately ended all too soon and before she realized it, Legolas had begun unlacing her wedding dress. She stood to make it easier for him, then stepped out of the elegant gown when it fell around her ankles. While Legolas picked it up and laid it over the vanity chair to be hung up tomorrow Alphine slipped on her nightgown. 

They climbed into bed in unison and immediately moved towards each other. Legolas’ arms went around Alphine as her head laid against his chest. She hadn’t realized just how tired she was until she was in bed. She was on the verge of falling asleep when she heard him speak. 

“Amin mela lle (I love you),” he whispered, eyes also falling closed. His words brought a smile to her face, and she cuddled in closer to him. 

“Amin mela lle.” 

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 35a

*Warning: Adult Content

- Lincoln -

"Okay Master, close your eyes," Kalem says from the bathroom, his excitement making his words rushed.

"They're closed," I reply with a growing smile.

"You have to close them super tight," Kalem demands making me chuckle with amusement.

There wasn't a thing Kalem could do that wouldn't succeed in enamouring me completely.

"They are closed super tight, I promise love," I raise my hands to cover my eyes for good measure so that Kalem wouldn't doubt me once he came out.

"Alright," Kalem says, his voice coming from directly in front of me now. 

He was getting really good at popping about now, time rarely stopped unless he willed it to.

Arias had explained to us that Kalem's powers or rather his magic, would be at it's strongest when he was at his highest or lowest.

His angel side fed off of his happier emotions... 

Excitement, joy, peace, contentment and comfort.

While his demon side would feed off of the darker emotions...

Anger, sadness, fear, disappointment and pain.

Kalem had been nothing but smiles since we returned from the pixie festival and though I couldn't say I felt the same about all that happened on that particular night, I was happy that he was still riding the high of it.

"You can only open your eyes on the count of three," Kalem instructs seriously so I nod. 

"Okay. One. Two. Three. Open. Open. Open."

Pulling my hands away, I open my eyes with a large smile already stretching across my lips before I find Kalem twisting from side-to-side in his little outfit.

It wasn't the same servant's attire he'd been so in love with in his earliest days with me, he'd gotten rid of that one a few weeks ago. 

He'd said that even though he loved the outfit very much, it was something he thought were meant for slaves when he'd worn it before. 

And now he didn't feel right wearing it when he knew that that wasn't what he was or what he even wanted to be.

But even as it'd been a good decision to make on his part, he'd been a little pouty since he threw it out and Malcolm had sought to resolve the problem on his own accord. 

He'd gotten this new get-up for Kalem as a gift that was similar in some aspects but much more... Kalem.

The main colour scheme was still black and white, with tight, black slacks and soft fitting dress shoes that were black as well. 

His shirt was a white overhead top, with a low-hanging v-neck and short sleeves. 

The top resembled the elf's clothing with its looseness that suited Kalem beautifully, as all things tended to.

The 'Kalem' parts of the little outfit were the little highlights of yellow that popped out subtly enough.

The handkerchief that Kalem had tucked in his back pocket was a soft yellow, the bottom outline of his shirt was yellow and the little bow he'd clipped into his hair was yellow as well. 

I was sure there was also a jacket to add to this ensemble but Kalem had opted not to wear it now for this showcasing.

Even so, the outfit was like a combination of every form of Kalem there was, all wrapped up into one enamouring bundle.

"Master, say something," Kalem whines as he twists in front of me. 

Doing a twirl and then another to give me the full picture.

 At my dropped gaze, Kalem giggles while still bouncing around on his toes. 

"Tell me how good I look."

With a chuckle, I pull Kalem in by his waist so that he's standing between my legs. 

As he slides his hands over my shoulder and to my neck, I look up to him with a matching grin. 

His hazel eyes were bright and wanting, a little nervous too but there was no need for nerves with me, not when I loved him so very much.

"You look absolutely gorgeous my love," I declare, my heart was stagnant and withered inside but it felt so whole now as I looked up at everything that was right and good in my world. 

If I had one, I knew it'd be racing as hard and furiously as Kalem's was against me. 

Kalem beams at me before he bites into his lip in a failed effort to quiet his joyous sounds. 

He struggles to hold my gaze as he climbs on top of me, straddling me with a shy smile that was more than a little suggestive.

When Kalem felt shy, he had a tendency to try and distract me in any way he could so he could make the feeling go away. 

But I was determined to have him hear my words since he'd asked for them, there would plenty of time to enjoy his body afterwards. 

"You look beautiful, like the angel you are and sinfully sexy like your demon side as well." 

Kalem's cheeks heat and his eyes dart away from mine but his smile doesn't diminish in the slightest. 

"You look stunning baby, stunning."

"Lincoln," Kalem whines in a high pitched squeal, his eyes trying and failing to hold my gaze.

"You are perfect, Kalem," I finish as I lock my fingers together at the dip in his back.

Blushing profusely now, Kalem wraps his arms around me and takes us both down onto the bed with another squeal, while he tries to hide in my shoulder.

Kalem loved compliments, especially on the days like today where he was 'feeling himself', a little more than usual. 

But he was also terribly shy at receiving them, he grew embarrassed and giggly, like he couldn't believe so many pretty words could be used to describe him.

But that was alright, for now, we had eternity to spend together, so I knew that I had plenty of time to make him grow accustomed to them.

"I'm glad that you like it," Kalem mumbles against me.

"I more than like it, love," I promise while running a hand through his hair, carefully not to disturb the bow.

The bow was the only part of the outfit that was a piece from me and it had been a complete gamble that, thankfully, had been the right choice.

When we were raiding the Elf's closet for pixie attire, Kalem had wondered off into Malcolm's massive closet and in there, he'd spotted a bow for what I imagined was the first time.

It had been tied to the back of one of Malcolm's more elaborate outfits from centuries ago and was disturbingly massive, tied in the perfect knot that sat where his butt would be.

I had watched quietly as Kalem had marvelled at it with wide eyes, wanting it so desperately without allowing himself to say so.

When we'd returned home, I'd scoured the internet for bowed accessories that I hoped would please him as much. 

Then I'd gone out to buy as many as I could for him.I would never forget Kalem's reaction for as long as I lived.

Words became impossible for him to form when he laid eyes on all the clips, rings, necklaces and much more I'd gotten for him. 

He'd stammered about himself while tears streamed down his face, unable to stop himself from popping in and out and all around his room while he screamed with joy.

But when he eventually remembered how to use words again, it was only a continuous stream of my favourite three.

Yeah, I would never forget that.

[stargazing15]

That ain’t an upgrade

Pairing: ex!Hangman x civil!reader; mystery man x reader

Summary: After Hangman breaking up with you 6 months ago you had to get away from him for a while thanks to an opportunity on your job. Now you're back, and how.

Warnings: Hangman has a new girlfriend, mentions of alcohol (what can you aspect at the Hard Deck), surprise at the end; for everyone’s safety 18+

A/N: got inspired while listening to Jessie Murph’s Upgrade, a short fic. I hope yo like it!

***

“Hey you fuckers, guess who’s back!” You shouted at your friends as you entered the Hard Deck and a secret wink to someone special. You were ready to be back after being in San Fransisco for the last 4 months for your job. 

“Y/N! How have you been?” Payback asked, followed by Phoenix and the rest of the group hugging you “Girl, I’m so happy to have you back! Feeling better? He’s not here, so no worries.”

“I’m good, I’m in a good place. I’m over him for a while now, so I don’t care if he shows up.” 

“Good to hear. I’m sorry about my boy, I really thought you guys were for the long run.” Coyote said apologetic. 

“Nah, it’s alright, not you fault Coyote that he’s an ass. And as I said I’m over him” you said without doubt, you had said it earlier before you left for San Fransisco, but this time you meant it, a new start.

“He - uh - he’s got a new girlfriend, she’s very not you. You might recognise her…”

“Good for him and I don’t care.” You smiled.

“Speaking of the devil.” 

“Jake” you greeted him, and his bimbo girlfriend. Yeah, she seemed familiar, she was the reason you broke up. You and Jake were living together for over a year after being together for 3 years and even getting ready for the next step, when he slipped up and cheated on you with her while being very drunk. Ever since the two of you lived together, she arrived in Fightertown with her hotshot rich contractor-dad and desperately tried to get between you and Jake, eventually she succeeded. It completely broke you and Jake knew well enough you wouldn’t give him another chance. When you looked at her, you couldn’t see what Jake saw in her, she was just like Coyote said, nothing like you, she was fake from head to toe, (hopefully she ain’t completely like she looks) she looks dumb and is used to getting what she wants. In this case, she got what she wanted, which was Jake. You only couldn’t help to wonder if she could handle Jake. Everyone got to see the joyous squad when they hit the bar, but never when they got home from deployment. You never knew which Jake you got back, the extremely horny one or the completely broken one which you had to fix piece by piece, all depending on how deployment went. She had no idea what lifestyle she has gotten herself into.

“Y/N, you’re back, you look good.” Jake noted.

“Thanks, I am good.”

“Baby, why are you talking to her, she the past, remember?”

 “Brittney, baby, I’m just being nice.” Oh God those two were awful together, you couldn’t help yourself to laugh at them at the inside. In the next hour, as you were catching up with the rest of the dagger-squad, you could hear them bickering or her talk about how awesome she was and that she didn’t need to work because of how rich here parents were. It was pathetic.

After her second glass of wine, as ladies don’t drink beer so she said, she excused her self to the toilet.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry about Brittney, she usually isn’t like that, I think she got a little jealous.”

“Jake, I don’t care about her, just learn her some fucking manners.”

“I, I missed you.”

“Jake, jeez, what, she can’t handle you? You choose her, remember. I’ve never expected the one after me to be such a downgrade, that actually hurt me. I just never imagined you to replace me with someone like her. I truly hope you’re happy.”

“I’m sorry with the way things went, I still do love you, I don’t know wh-”

“You made it clear that day, I wasn’t enough.”

“Jake, baby, is she harassing you?” She’s back and still annoying as ever.

“Barbie, don’t worry honey, he’s all yours. I would never want him back after choosing you.” she looked at you, as if she’s seen some sort of alien. Which gave you the time to get yourself ready to leave.

“Come on babe, let’s go” You said, everyone looking at you with an open mouth and some whispering “Ooooh, she’s got a boyfriend, who?”

“What guys, we’ve been dating for a month now” you smiled as Bob joined you, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips. "I'm the one who got an upgrade." you whispered in Bob's ear. The group was still in awe and Jake in disbelieve that it was sweet Bob.

“See ya Bagman.” Bob said waving goodbye and holding your waist as the two of you were leaving. 

@jakexfmc hope you're kinda feeling better after this. My household got me a bit too busy.

[jungkxook]

—midnight getaway. (m)

⟶ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader 

⟶ genre: sprinkle of youtuber!wooyoung + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 6,488

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: a “romantic” getaway surrounded by your friends leads to an interesting night alone with wooyoung

⟶ warnings: pwp, wooyoung says baby a lot bc he’s in love, some teasing woo, exhibitionism, doggy style, sort of praise kink, ass play (fingering, fem!recieving), breast play/fondling, finger sucking, riding, unprotected sex, creampie 

⟶ note: this is the first fic i’ve written in a while and my first ateez fic no one come for me pls also this is dedicated to the lovely @kithtaehyung​ !! thank you for always encouraging me and my wooyoung antics!! 💛

p.s. this is shamelessly inspired by this wooyoung selfie!!

“Ugh. You obviously like her.”

The begrudging sigh comes from Yeosang, narrowly giving Wooyoung a heart attack when he realizes that you’re still within earshot. This wouldn’t have been so much of an issue had Yeosang not been so clearly talking about you to Wooyoung, though he barely has any time to recollect himself. Instead, sprawled out on the poolside of the villa the group had rented out for their week-long vacation in Jeju Island, Wooyoung firstly decides that he has no idea what Yeosang’s talking about.

“We’re just friends,” Wooyoung retorts.

“A friend you invite with you on a romantic getaway?” Yeosang asks with a wolfish grin.

Wooyoung shakes his head. He can still see you through the windows of the villa, now in the kitchen talking to Hongjoong. You’re all bright-eyed and glowing from the sun, in a swimsuit you had been putting to use just a few minutes ago when you took a dip in the pool. “Some romantic getaway, considering there’s seven idiots in the same house as us. Also thought this trip was meant to have no distractions.”

Which isn’t really a lie, because while their trip to Jeju was mostly for their YouTube channels, it was also meant to serve as a well-deserved break for the boys, and their leisure work of choice wasn’t exactly taxing and the majority of their trip so far has been spent simply enjoying themselves. Hongjoong had been so adamant too that there would be nothing to hinder them during their well deserved break. And of course you jumped at the offer to tag along when Wooyoung asked you, because you were his best friend but, moreover, his best supporter when it came to his passion and his videos.

“Yeah,” San hums nonchalantly from within the pool. He had been one of the few to jump in with you earlier, “but I don’t think friends flirt with each other on a daily basis.”

“Not to mention your video was all about her,” Jongho adds from beside Wooyoung. “I thought we were supposed to be promoting tourism in Jeju, not Y/N.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, you had featured in a lot of the video Wooyoung had only just posted for his “Our Side of the Story” series he was doing (mostly daily vlogs, or aesthetic short films that you’ve always loved ━ much like the others, who have found a way to incorporate their love for music, dance, cooking, and everything in between in their vlogs), but you always made an appearance when you were so close with him. His viewers were used to it by this point, safe for the occasional questioning comments as to whether or not you two were dating. This video in particular saw you having the most fun in a while, frolicking the streets of the city, sprinting across the beach into the shallows of the ocean to try and splash Wooyoung with water; shaved ice shared between you and him and the way you snuck a bite of his when he was preoccupied, bike rides along the waterfront, and clambering along hiking trails so you could pose in a field of flowers that you had so desperately wanted to see.

Now, Wooyoung gives a roll of his eyes. “Funny. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yeosang sighs again. “When are you gonna tell her the truth?”

“The video already kind of did,” Jongho points out tauntingly. “If I was Y/N, I would have already realized.”

“Yeah━” San is beaming now as he clambers out of the pool, “but if you don’t want her, Woo, can I make a pass at her? Y’know, just to help take her off your hands━ Ow! What the hell?”

San jumps suddenly when Wooyoung chucks one of the pillows off of the lawn chair at his head.

“Keep your hands off her━” Wooyoung chastises. It’s meant mostly as a joke, but he worries when he recognizes a small part of him seems to care a little too much.

The others seem to find it funny at least, erupting into howling laughter that’s quick to fade when you wander back out to the pool and throw yourself next to Wooyoung.

“They’re definitely starting to catch on.”

Wooyoung lets out a weary sigh, though you’re starting to find it difficult to focus as he continues to kiss down your throat.

So, maybe if any of the boys walked in and saw the both of you in such a compromising position, they would be indescribably confused while also preparing to point an accusatory finger at Wooyoung for technically lying to them. But it isn’t really a lie, and certainly not one neither he nor you were keen on keeping for very long. It’s just that it seemed a whole lot easier to keep your newfound two month relationship with Wooyoung a secret for a small while.

It was mostly to give the both of you enough time to enjoy yourselves thoroughly without the prying eyes of your friends (who, while always supportive, are already passionately invested in your lifelong friendship with Wooyoung, pointing out his feelings for you even far before he could decipher them), their vlogging lifestyle, and their fans, while also waiting for the proper time to expose the truth. After the Jeju trip, you had both promised each other. But that plan was beginning to look more and more faulty as time passes.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to Jeju with your friends turned into a tricky game in which Wooyoung had entirely different plans that consisted of you only. Specifically, how many times he can find you alone away from the boys to have his way with you. By now, night has since fallen and, after a short duration of time unwinding around a small bonfire in the backyard, the boys had all since retreated to their own rooms. You’re positive most are already long asleep and the ones that aren’t are beginning to nod off, exhausted after a long day and drowsy with liquor from the night of drinking. You’re fortunate Wooyoung at least first chose to find you alone in your room of the villa, but you still panic. Because Wooyoung should be sleeping in his shared room with Hongjoong down the hall from yours, yet here he was.

“My video today probably didn’t help,” Wooyoung adds. 

You hum in response. “I don’t know if sneaking into my room will help with that either.”

At this, Wooyoung grins wide. “It’s fine. Hongjoong’s passed out cold. You should hear his snores. Plus━” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without wondering how quickly you can cum.”

You nearly choke as you hear the words fall from Wooyoung’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his fault ━ he has needs too.

The first night of your trip called for a joyous celebration at a nearby restaurant that resulted in everyone being blissfully drunk by the time you returned to the villa. You had gotten so dressed up for the occasion that Wooyoung hated to see it go to waste, adorned in a pretty floral sundress ━ one that has always been his favourite (and, no, he promises that’s not solely because of how nice your boobs look in it, though that’s definitely a plus). If the boys could hear his thoughts now, they’d certainly pick him apart.

The house, however big and spacious it may be, is certainly not empty. Even just next door to your room is the shared room both Mingi and San are in. This is a fact you choose to remind your dear boyfriend of now. “The boys are sleeping.”

“Screw the guys,” Wooyoung groans into your neck. His strong arms slide around your middle from behind, pulling you into an all too familiar and warm embrace. He’s caught you just before you can shed your dress and slip into something more comfortable, all radiant and shimmering from a day out in the sun. You melt almost immediately against his chest as he nibbles on the skin just below your ear, on the corner of your jaw. He whispers ardently, “You look really pretty today. You always do, but especially today.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. You instinctively reach out behind you to rest your hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the hair there. “I wore this dress just for you. I know it’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, because your tits look amazing in it,” he snickers. As if to emphasize this, he reaches down slyly to cup one of your breasts over the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, now you’re just trying to distract me into bed with you.”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully, a smug grin on his face.

You snicker, fidgeting in his hold to face him and patting at his shoulder. “Maybe if we weren’t surrounded by a group of seven drunk men who could potentially hear and walk in on me sucking you off at any moment.”

But Wooyoung has already waited all day for the boys to leave you two alone. Waiting any longer may as well have felt like an eternity in a certain type of special hell that he wasn’t exactly keen on.

“And?” A sudden smirk stretches across his face. He leans in close to you, lips brushing faintly against your ear. “You didn’t have a problem letting me fuck you against the practice room mirror the other day.”

You swat lightly at his chest, scoffing suddenly. “Wooyoung!”

But he has a point. In all fairness, it had been his idea to take you against the practice room mirror when the boys had gone home and you were dropping off food to your poor boyfriend still working late at night. You certainly hadn’t complained then when he had you coming around his cock with the practice room door left unlocked. It’s such a Wooyoung thing to say too, being that he’s not often caught off guard, especially when he’s so blatant and confident about all things sex.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night, Woo?”

“No, he’s in pain,” he pouts childishly. He bites playfully at the tip of your nose.

You sputter for air, dissolving into a fit of laughter. “You did not just call your dick a he━”

“Okay, I’m in pain,” he corrects. He starts kissing down and back up your neck. “It’s not my fault you look extra hot today. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun today. Is it so wrong for me to want to keep pampering my beautiful girlfriend?”

“With your dick?”

“Yes, with my dick.”

You snort.

“And━” He drags out the word purposely, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t even want you to suck me off, by the way. All I want is to fuck you senseless right now.”

Oh.

His words send a nerve right down to your core. Your thighs instinctively press together at the thought.

All things considered, you’re not any better. There was no denying how devastatingly attractive your boyfriend always looked, but especially today. A well-deserved break and the Jeju sun did him well, with a beautiful tan starting to glow on his face, free of any make-up or cover-ups. The usual stress of city life and work doesn’t weigh heavy on his brows anymore, and though his hair has gotten longer, it’s a neat and pretty mess ━ a little unruly from the sun and chlorine, and from having taken it down from its half-ponytail, but pretty nonetheless ━ with the under half of it bleached blonde and the top half dyed black. Dressed in nothing but a casual old t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, he’s both wholesomely cute and yet sexy at the same time.

And, while you are surrounded by a group of rowdy boys, Wooyoung isn’t necessarily wrong. He always seems to have a knack for making anything romantic enough if he tries, attributed to his charming ways. A night of lovemaking (or whatever he has in mind) in your room with a beachside view is, all things considered, kind of romantic.

You purse your lips now. “Think they’re all asleep?”

“With how wasted they are? Absolutely,” Wooyoung says brightly. “I tripped over a shoe in our room and Hongjoong didn’t even move.”

It’s risky, sure, but the sudden yearning to be with Wooyoung was almost debilitating. There was no doubt you could both get away with having sex in a packed house, right? Either way, it doesn’t really seem to matter. You’ve already been persuaded, and Wooyoung knows.

He pulls you in for a kiss and you let him get carried away for a moment, reveling in the way he needily nips and sucks at your lower lip. Then, finding a second of clarity, you can be heard saying against his mouth breathlessly, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Mmm,” he hums distractedly. “So quiet.”

But that was like asking Wooyoung not to breathe. It’s this passing thought, and the way he pulls and tugs you over to sit on his lap as he sinks onto the edge of the bed in a desperate haste, that has you giggling. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to the underside of your jaw and then along your throat.

You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck as you begin to rut your hips against his slowly. “You look really handsome today, baby. It’s nice seeing you so relaxed for once.”

His stare meets yours suddenly, all sparkling and awed. He grips your waist and presses you a little more firmly against his hips so you can feel his semi-hard dick against your inner thigh. “Ugh,” he sighs, “say that again and I’ll bust a nut right here and now.”

Another giggle meets his ears, but this time it’s a little less focused as it splinters off into a whimper the longer you continue to grind against him. You decide to humour him. “I saw your vlog. It was pretty.”

He audibly whines now, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. “Yeah? I worked hard on it.”

“Is that how you see me?” You think back to the video and how you looked, the soft music overlapping it all.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, “like that piece of washed up kelp you tried throwing at me today━”

“You’re so━”

“I’m joking. Of course that’s how I see you, but that’s only a fraction of what you look like to me. A camera doesn’t do you justice.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” You snicker.

“So pretty.” He kisses you again, this time a little more earnestly. He sighs dreamily against your lips, “No, actually. If my dick isn’t in you in the next minute, I’m gonna go insane.”

A delighted simper sounds from you. “Don’t even have to cum, just as long as you do━”

Your jaw drops open as you find an angle that has you pushing your clit against his clothed dick just right. But even though you had so innocently offered to only get him off, part of the fun was seeing how quickly and how many times he could make you cum before finishing himself off. You deserve it, after all.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. He takes a moment to appreciate you in your current state. You, straddling his lap, eager hips moving against his with your brows pinched in concentration, the pretty material of your dress hiking up around your thighs. He reaches down, palms rough as they grip at the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at you, already so needy for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Wooyoung fidgets beneath you. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at your throat.

“How do you want me first, princess?” he asks sweetly now, peppering kisses along your throat, tongue soothing the marks he’s left behind. “Want my fingers in you?”

“N-No━” You croak. “Just wanna feel your dick.”

Excitement prickles at the tips of his fingers as he massages circles against your hips. “In your mouth or in you?”

“In me,” You rasp. “Now. Please, Woo━”

He marvels for a moment at how he’s so stupidly in love with you and your pretty words despite them having such dirty implications, and he hastens to please you. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips as he smothers them against your mouth, but then the giddy sensation of finally getting to have his cock buried in your walls overcomes him. He murmurs into a wet kiss, “As much as I love this dress, let’s get it off of you.”

He hastens to help you shove the straps of your dress down your shoulders, then off your arms. Then, he watches as you stand up to shimmy your way out of it, the material pooling at your feet, exposing your figure and the fact that you’re not even wearing a bra. The swell of your breasts meets his eyes first, and you’ve barely just kicked your way out of your panties when he’s pulling you onto his lap again, warm mouth latching onto one of your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple, teeth nibbling on the sensitive bud. He can’t seem to get enough, moving to bite and suck at the soft flesh all over, shifting from one to the other, then down the valley of your breasts. A moan falls from your lips, hands pulling harshly at his hair as you push him further into your chest.

“Wooyoung…” You whine. “We gotta be quick.”

Though he wants nothing more than to mark up your chest all over, he relents only when he remembers that the boys are nearby. “Okay, okay━ Here━”

He grabs at your waist, shifting you around until you’re on your back splayed out beneath him. Towering over you, he pushes the material of his shorts down, pulling his aching dick from the tight confinements. Your eyes fall to the way he fists himself hurriedly, tip all red and glistening with precum, and the one prominent vein bulging along his length. You bite at your lip, legs instinctively spreading wider for him.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asks, excited. “With the guys here?”

“Think it’s too late to ask when we’re both already naked,” You giggle. You remind him again, this time a little weaker, “Just remember to be quiet.”

He hums in response. Then, he teases you by running the length of his hard dick against your slick folds, already dripping with slick arousal.

“God, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet already.” He taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, the sudden jolt sending your head spinning. As he rubs himself on you, the sticky wetness glides along the prominent vein of his length and spreads messily out to the top of your inner thighs. “Did I do all this to you?”

“Woo, no teasing,” You chastize in a small whine. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling, and you hate having to resist all his teasing touches. “What if someone tries coming in?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Let them. If it’s Seonghwa, even better. I can finally get payback for when he purposely ate some girl out on my bed.”

You snort lazily, stifling your giggles. “Focus, baby.”

“I am focused,” he says smugly. He emphasizes this by pressing his dick a little harder against your folds, teasing the tip of it against your entrance. “With you spread out like this for me, all sexy━ Fuck, I’m so focused.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is that the thought alone of one of the boys walking in on the both of you is enough to excite him to no end. He can imagine it now, one of them wandering into the room while you’re writhing beneath Wooyoung, taking his dick so well, moaning nothing but his name. He yearns to feel you all at once, hurrying to please you.

Without warning, he pushes himself into you, cock stretching you wide in just the way you both like. Almost immediately, low gasps and groans sound from the both of you.

“Ah, f-fuck! Woo━” You smother your sudden cries with a hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shit, I know,” he sputters for air. His voice is heavy in your ear, a low grunt only for you to hear. “You feel so fucking good, baby━”

His head is swimming even just at the way your walls wrap around his tip so snug. He pushes himself into you the rest of the way, bottoming out with a sudden forceful and indulgent thrust when━

The headboard slams against the wall, exceptionally loud.

“Fuck, Wooyoung━ Woo━” You grip at his arms. “The bed.”

His eyes meet yours, stunned momentarily as you wait and listen. A minute passes, but the house continues to remain silent.

“It’s okay. Even if they do hear, it’s not as if they probably won’t know what we’re doing,” Wooyoung points out, matter-of-fact. “We haven’t exactly been very careful lately.”

“Still,” You insist. Your walls throb around his hard dick, desperate for some sort of movement. “It’ll give me some peace of mind.”

His heart swoons at your timidness, and though he has fun teasing you, he would never actually want to risk getting caught by one of the boys (however many close calls he’s already had with you) or, worse, upsetting you to the point of no return.

In the next moment, Wooyoung pulls out of you, then pushes back in again, this time less forceful. He swears he tries to be wary of the bed and of making too much noise but, much to both of your dismay, while the frame doesn’t bang against the wall too noticeably, the bed still creaks beneath you.

Wooyoung grits his teeth. He tries again, then one more time, and though your head lolls back at the sensation of him stretching you wide, you meet his gaze with your own apprehensive hazy one. Even Wooyoung’s patience is wearing thin when all he wants to do is tear you apart ━ that, and the slight creak of the bed is enough to start driving him insane.

“Fuck this,” his pace stutters to a halt, “let’s get on the floor. Can you get on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“Good idea.” Your heart jolts in your chest from the excitement.

Within a matter of seconds, he’s parting from you, leaving you momentarily stunned at the loss of warmth. He helps you to your feet so that the both of you can sink to the floor on your knees. Before you can drop into all fours, Wooyoung stops you by reaching out for the blanket on the bed and tucking it underneath the both of you, but mostly to soften the ground underneath your knees. When he catches you surveying him with a fond gleam in your eyes, he quirks a brow.

“What? It’s just so you don’t get too uncomfortable,” he says sweetly, peppering a few kisses along your shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Amazing.” Your heart swells at all his gentle touches. You catch his lips on yours, faintly murmuring, “I love you. Like, so much.”

You can feel his grin against your mouth. “You know I love you too. And as much as I would also love to hear you go on about how I’m the most perfect boyfriend, I need to be in you right now.”

A pretty giggle meets his ears, and he marvels for a second how you’re so quick to oblige. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your ass juts out in his direction. You give it a little tempting wiggle, and he hurries to position himself behind you. With one hand on the small of your back, he guides you back down his length.

“Ah━ Fuuuck━” He moans. “Arch your back a little more for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told, leaning forward just enough on your elbows and sticking your hips back to meet his as he sinks balls deep into your core. Then, he’s crumbling apart, all breathy panting as he tries to focus.

“Shit, baby━”

“Mmm━”

“You’re so tight. So wet. I’m not gonna last,” he pouts, as if it’s a genuine disappointment. He watches as he pulls out of your heat just enough before shoving himself back in, his dick covered in a glistening sheen of your arousal. You’re so damn wet, he wonders how he hasn’t slipped from you yet. His hands grip and tug at your ass, spreading you to see the way your cunt pulsates and stretches around his dick. So perfect, almost as if you were made for him. “Tell me. Wanna hear how good you feel right now.”

“S-So good,” You mumble drunkenly. “God, you’re so good, Woo. Fuck━!”

His gaze droops down to your breasts, bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. He reaches around and grabs at one of your boobs. The gentle shake of the soft flesh in his palms is always his favourite feeling, and he can’t help but squeeze at them now because, god, he really does love your tits. If he had all the time in the world, he would do anything to fuck himself between your boobs, and cum all over your chest ━ but that will have to wait for now.

“Ah━ Fuck━ Wish I could take my time with you right now,” he moans, planting sloppy kisses along your shoulder. “I can’t wait till we’re alone. Gonna take care of you so well, baby.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. He reaches down with his other hand, thumb pressing against the tight hole of your ass. The sensation alone is enough to have you nearly keeling over, a strangled cry of pleasure ripping from you. “Want you coming on my tongue so bad. Gonna fuck you against every surface too. You deserve it. You’re always so good to me, princess.”

“Only for you,” You whimper. If he wasn’t so pressed for time, the affirmation alone would have been more than enough to make him melt in your very hands. But his dick is still so hard, and your pussy is still so wet, all he can focus on is not slipping from your walls with every thrust of his hips. “Ah, Wooyoung! Y-You’re so━ So hard━”

You bite harshly at your lip when a loud moan threatens to spill from you. You bury your face in the blanket around you, clutching so tightly at the material. A part of Wooyoung finds it amusing, if only because, if the boys are awake and don’t hear your lewd moans, there’s no doubt they won’t be able to hear the sound of skin against skin as his hips slap against your ass.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he coaxes now. “Moan out loud for me.” When you shake your head, he snickers. “Want it harder? Will that help you?”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips, a little rougher than usual. It sends you teetering forward, a broken groan tumbling from you that’s left muffled by the blanket. He can hear you mumble wantonly, “Don’t be a tease.”

A cheshire-like grin spreads across his face. “Here━ Come sit on my dick. Wanna feel you so deep━”

His words make you moan softly, followed by the way he pulls out of you just quickly enough to sit back against the bed. He tugs you onto his lap and you follow suit, spreading your legs further apart as you sink onto his leaking dick. Down, down, down, until it almost feels as if he’s hitting your cervix, and suddenly you’re not so sure you’ll be able to keep it together any longer. That, mixed with the way he’s gazing at you, all hooded eyed and alluring, you’re very close to dissolving into a mess right in his very arms.

“Ah━ Ah━ Fuck, baby━” You grip at his shoulders as you adjust to the new feeling, hips squirming above his. “Wooyoung, please━”

But your words fall short. The desperate plea that hinges in your voice fades into nothing more than the urgent need to feel more of him, to have him absolutely wreck you, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Please what, baby?” he taunts lazily. But he knows what he’s doing, slyly beckoning you to make a mess, and moan for him.

His palms are warm as they slide up your sides, then around your back, hugging you close to his chest. He thrusts his hips up just once into you, sending you into a haste that has you lifting yourself up and then back down his cock. As you adopt a steady and reckless pace that has you bouncing on his length, he watches your every reaction. The way your face contorts at the sheer pleasure, brows pinched so hard in concentration, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Your hands reach out to thread through his long locks, pretty blonde tresses running through the seams of your fingers. You tug lightly at the root, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N━” His head rolls back against the mattress at your quick pace. “You’re so fucking sexy━ So desperate for my dick━ Ah━”

He moans suddenly, only this time it’s less muffled than before. Whether he does it the first time to tease you or simply because he had gotten carried away, you aren’t quite sure. Either way, it’s enough to startle you, even amongst the daze you’re in.

“Wooyoung━” Your voice is a small warning, but it lacks any severity when it splinters into a whine. “Not so loud.”

“They’re━ Ah, fuck━ sleeping━”

You meet his mischievous stare with your own heedful one. Your pace slows, if only just, and you’re certain this time that when he moans even louder, it’s entirely on purpose.

“Woo!” You clamp a hand softly over his mouth, smothering the tail end of his crude groan.

The grin that forms on his face beneath your hand is evident of his amusement of his toying with you but it turns sluggish quickly. The sight to see is hot enough, with the drowsy lopsided smirk poking out from underneath your hand as he watches you continue to ride him, now a measured gyrating against his own hips. When he realizes you’ve chosen to keep your hand over his mouth, he reaches up to grab a hold of your wrist, his large fingers splaying out and then up over your knuckles.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay. Let it out,” he hums. He kisses at your fingertips, tongue swiveling around to suck on your digits delicately. “Not even one tiny moan? Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

He can feel your thighs begin to shake around him and, judging by the crescendoing of whimpers tumbling from your mouth, he senses you’re close. Your free hand still grips at his hair, this time a little tighter as you try to anchor yourself in place to rock your hips a little faster. Wooyoung hisses delightfully at the feeling, a small lethargic chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest.

Rough hands grab at your waist now, shifting you around abruptly until you’re splayed out on the floor on your back with him hovering over you. His length stays wedged snugly in your walls, never once slipping, and as he settles against your chest, he lifts one of your legs up and over his shoulder. An animalistic growl slips from him at your pinched face, and the way your cunt starts to squeeze around him. With this angle that his hips pound into yours, his cock hits so deep into your core, pummeling against your cervix again and again.

“H-Harder━ Wooyoung━” You pant. “Please━ I’m gonna━”

Finally, a moan sounds from you. Loud and unabashed, a little broken and exhausted, but beautiful to Wooyoung’s ears nonetheless. In fact, it’s so sexy of a noise that it’s enough to nearly push him over the edge but he relents, if only just for a little longer.

“Ah, there’s my favourite sound,” he smirks. His tongue lavs at the underside of your jaw, and your hand finds itself tangled in his hair once more. “Gonna be a good girl and let the boys hear you now?”

You try with all your might to silence yourself, but the task proves more and more difficult. A few more slams of his hips into yours, and you’re crumbling apart right before his eyes.

“Fuck━ Wooyoung━”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum for me.”

As you come, the sudden gush of wetness around your core coats his length and he almost accidentally slips from your cunt. You’re clenched so tightly around him, Wooyoung feels as if he has to gasp for air to stay focused. His eyes still stay trained on you, watching as your face contorts as you writhe beneath him. But it’s your shameless moaning that sets him off, albeit still softer than usual but much louder than he was expecting from you with the boys so close by.

“Ah━ You’re so fucking hot━” he whines. “Gonna cum━”

Every thrust of his hips sends you bobbing up and down, and as you come down from your high the pleasurable feeling of his hard cock still burrowed in your sensitive walls has you whimpering softly. Your legs try to separate further, beckoning him for more.

“Cum in me, Youngie,” you beckon dazedly. “Wanna feel it so bad━”

“Oh, fuck━” he gasps. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. Aren’t you?”

His pace quickens, hips snapping into yours urgently. One final shuddering thrust and he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, cock pulsating within your aching walls as his cum fills you up. He has to bury his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans, listening to the sharp gasp for air you take when you feel his release.

He rides out his high in a few more leisure rolls of his hips, though he seems more concerned now with kissing your throat slowly. He gently unravels your leg from his shoulder, then slumps against you like the comfortable heavy weight that he is. His dick lays softening still buried within your walls, now leaking with his cum.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” You hear him sigh dreamily into your neck. “‘Cause you are.”

“Almost daily,” You concur with a giggle. Your own fingers smooth out his hair, fixing the messy strands, and he croons with delight. He leaves a trail of sweet kisses up along your throat, then your jaw, and then the corner of your mouth. Safe for the laboured breathing as you both try to calm your shrill hearts, you’re made aware so suddenly of just how quiet the room suddenly is. “There’s no way the guys slept through all of that.”

“I’m sure they did.” Wooyoung nibbles gingerly at your lip. “There’s nothing to worry about. Especially right now. I’m so tired. We can deal with the potential consequences later.”

You snort. “How did I know that’s exactly what you would say?”

You catch him smirking before he plants one last kiss on your lips. Somehow, he’s able to pry himself off of you long enough to slip into his shorts laying discarded on the floor before disappearing outside of the room into the darkened hallway. He returns moments later with a damp towel to help clean up the sticky mess between your legs, then tugs you back onto the bed with him.

“They’ll see you sneaking out of my room if you sleep here,” You point out through a yawn.

“I’ll get up before them,” he insists. “Just give me an hour with you, like this.”

You can’t resist the urge.

At the very least, you fall asleep first in his arms, his fingers playing with your hair. He must slip away from you at some point during the night, unraveling himself carefully from your sleeping figure to retreat to his own room. You’ll tell the boys eventually of your relationship with Wooyoung, you swear.

But for now, there, under the covers of the bed, you have all the time in the world to enjoy yourself with Wooyoung in pure, unadulterated silence.

In the morning when you wake up, you join your boyfriend with the rest of the boys downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

You’re the last to arrive, having wanted to take your time in the shower ━ a fact that Wooyoung laments, because he wanted nothing more than to shower with you to “save water” (which really just translates to more sex), but with only two bathrooms and nine people, the feat seemed impossible. Now, you sidle into the seat next to Wooyoung at the kitchen table, smiling down at him when his eyes flicker to you which seems to go unnoticed by the others.

“How was your night?” Yunho asks passively once you’ve settled into place. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, as Wooyoung answers, “Best sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” This amused offhanded scoff comes from San under his breath. It causes Mingi to almost choke on his sip of orange juice as he snorts into the glass.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh, nothing,” San says. The smirk on his face says otherwise. “Thought we heard some loud noises last night. It was weird.”

Then there’s Mingi, leaning across the table to catch your attention alone. He shoots you a more merciful look, though he still seems entertained nevertheless when he whispers to you, “You have something on your neck.”

Your hand instinctively clamps onto your throat, over the spot Mingi points to as you mentally curse yourself. While you had been so preoccupied the night before trying not to make any noise, you forgot to warn Wooyoung against leaving any noticeable marks on your body ━ a bad habit of his, and your fatal mistake for forgetting to check the morning after.

The others are fortunately not paying attention, already absorbed in their own conversations, but the horror of so clearly being found out by San and Mingi sends you into a frenzy. It even seems to alarm Wooyoung judging by the way he starts laughing nervously, though maybe that’s because your knee bashes against his under the table and sends him jumping in his seat.

Clearly, you have a lot of explaining to do. Eventually.

The last thing you hear San say before he and Mingi howl with laughter seems to make even the charmingly confident Wooyoung slightly frazzled, and leaves you all the more confused.

“Some romantic getaway, huh?” 

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[tobesolonely]

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit​‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless​ and @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

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With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response  to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

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“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in. 

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.” 

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.” 

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.” 

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject,  gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own. 

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit. 

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.” 

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side. 

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated. 

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?” 

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

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No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment. 

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone. 

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.” 

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.” 

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.” 

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him. 

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow. 

“All good?” 

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him. 

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles. 

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush. 

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!

[mysteriesofloves]

I’m always sad about the things we missed with dair on gg, specifically her dressing up for him (aside from her one failed attempt) and how different it would’ve functioned in their relationship. like role play and dress up between her and ch*ck never felt sexy to me (because ch*ck is an ugly troll who nauseates me) but rather a way, in addition to many others, that blair used to keep ch*ck happy. And they mostly felt like a display or tableau for him to enjoy (🤢).

On the other hand, and I’ve said this before, blair’s desire to dress up for dan did and would’ve continued to feel joyous and an acknowledgement of her own desire as well as her partner’s.

*in general I get angsty when I think of all of blair’s great styling choices that were wasted on ch*ck.

yeah i know what you mean and i think if they’d been given more time we might’ve gotten that but the writers were never invested in them being endgame so we missed out on a lot :/ but honestly i love the little bit we got with blair revealing herself in the getup in 5x18 like it’s such a contrast from her and chuck because it doesn’t feel like she’s For his consumption. (another reason the short lived blair/carter thing was fun it was nice to see a rich, manipulative guy be blair’s plaything pretty much just for her fun.)

it really does feel like things she does to keep him interested but also i can’t remember at all a single time she dresses up for him that he actually responds… like he either doesn’t show up or he brushes her off or holds out on her or something it’s so one sided but she keeps doing it again and again it’s so sad.

and it does always feel like she’s something for him to enjoy/consume/posses. she’s positioned as another one of the beautiful, expensive things that he owns, that belong to him, that he controls, just like his hotel, his company. she’s not even interchangeable with them to him though, she’s actually less important. she’s not even his favourite, his prized possession. it doesn’t just go for lingerie she wears either but any look. and i think what ultimately makes it worse is that it’s what the writers intended. any time a scene is about blair they view it as somehow actually being about chuck, even when it doesn’t make sense to.

like, that dress i pointed out, which is gorgeous (i went on a hunt for it last time i did a full rewatch) and she looks insanely hot in it, is still interesting when viewed characteristically because it’s a lot less modest than what she usually wears. while it’s a proper dress it’s actually closer in style to the slips she strips down to in 1x07 and 4x09. blair’s style is for the most part always modest/posh/classically romantic. the most she reveals is usually a low back. so i think it’s telling that she chooses to wear that style when she’s set up a dinner for him. those two moments, when she drops her dress and walks off in just a slip, are meant to show the “real” and “true” blair that only chuck can bring out which just. makes me so angry lol. what an incredibly reductive way to view female sexuality.

but again, even the little bit we got shows how comfortable blair was with dan and how she knew he would appreciate it. she reveals this look similarly to how she reveals the prior slips: taking off the modest cover up to reveal something sexy underneath. but this time it’s with someone who respects her, respects her body, and loves every part of her—not just the “bad girl”, “dark” blair. it’s almost like…it was a satisfying end to her arc.

literally so many incredible styling choices that could’ve plainly been gorgeous but are in a 🪑 storyline so they have to have the contextual layer of all that grossness :)))) say it with me: and! for! what!

[orange-waterfalls]

Thunderstorms

Captain Magnum x gn!reader

ask: Don't really know how this works I haven't been on here long enough but uh- if your still taking requests for Markipliers egos and stuff could you do a Captain Magnum x reader who has a huge phobia of thunderstorms and Magnum notices while there's a thunderstorm going on and comforts them :')? 

A/N: I wrote this during a thunderstorm so I could keep track of my movements when I got scared. That is my official excuse for how long this took. I missed Magnum so much. Nothing but respect for my Captain. I’ve been into pirates recently because of Our Flag Means Death streaming season 1 now on HBO Max. Also, my writing teacher has assigned us to write everyday but she never said what so expect extremely short bullshit posted more often. Maybe on Ao3. I don’t use tumblr anymore lmao.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Uh. Destiny 2 reference. Battleblock Theatre reference. Mention of. genitalia. yep. Fear of thunder.

--

In hindsight, you probably should have mentioned the extreme fear of thunder before you joined a pirate crew. On the sea. Where storms… happen. And they happen frequently. And strongly. And loudly.

You had no idea how they could do that. Stand out there. With the wind whipping the sails and waves throwing the boat the rain stinging their skin and the lightning striking anything it found and the fucking noise. The boom of the thunder. The explosions deep in the sky, a threat from the gods telling you mortals that you could die at any moment. It was fucking angry. Like Poseidon invited you to Olympus for dinner and you slapped him in the face.

Not that the crew cared. The crew was fucking joyous. The crew… the crew was fucking dancing, goddammit. You couldn’t tell them now. You couldn’t. It’d be the death of any respect they might’ve had for you. You were pretty sure you heard Magnum's booming voice yelling "COME ON! GIMME ALL YE GOT! YE DON'T HAVE THA BALLS". 

You couldn't tell them now. You couldn’t.

The door swung open, cracking the wall, and making you flinch. Magnum waltzed in with a laugh that reminded you of Lord Shaxx to a degree.

"Hoo, the waters be wild tonight, eh, mate?" He stomped into the room, hands on his hips. He looked around, but you weren't sitting in the room. His smile fell. "Mate? Where are ya?"

"In here." You called from the wall. A hole in the wall, moreso. A hide hole. Behind the mirror. It came with the ship, or so you were told. 

He bounded over and opened the mirror, leaning his head to the side to see. You were sitting on the floor, knees to your chest. He frowned.

"What're ye doin', child?" He asked. You shrugged in response. "Couldja get outta there?"

You shook your head.

"Why not?"

You shrugged.

"Alright then." He closed the mirror and you thought that was the last of it. At least until you heard the distinct sound of wood cracking and breaking and splintering, making you hit the deck for fear that the storm had just gotten that strong. 

You looked up once it stopped to see Magnum holding the mirror. The one attached to the wall. That was no longer attached to the wall. It was basically a door, honestly.

"... hi." He said. You blinked at him.

"Hi, Cap." You sighed. 

He looked around your cabin a moment before deciding to just set the mirror against the nearest wall. He then shuffled into the hide hole, needing to duck down quite a bit, and plopped down next to you with his legs resting high up on the wall.

"... what's tha matter?" He asked, softer than you were used to from him.

"There's no matter. Nothing's the matter. I'm fine." You rambled, avoiding his gaze. Your eyes flicked back to him, where he sat squinting at you, scrutinizing.

"Don't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes." He waved a finger at you. You looked back at him and tilted your head.

"Really?" You raised your eyebrows.

"No, but ya just admitted ya lied, so mission accomplished." He laughed. You scoffed.

"Oh, you're an asshole." You shook your head, but had a smile on your face.

"Oi! I may be an ass, but I am no asshole, y'understand?" He teased.

"10-4, good buddy." You nodded and stared at the wall in front of you.

"... what's tha matter?" He asked again.

"That mirror was stronger than I thought it'd be." You brought the conversation in a completely different direction. Magnum looked back at the new hole in the wall. He then looked at you, suspicious. 

"Fuckin' strong for some glass and wood." He agreed nonetheless. 

"I thought it'd shatter, but she's still intact. Fuckin… fuckin strong-ass storm, but she's intact… she's alright… for now…" 

Alright, maybe not completely different a direction.

"... what's tha matter?" He repeated for the third and final time.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You shook your head.

"You said." He quirked an eyebrow.

"Then why're you asking?"

"Cause I don't believe you."

"... right. Ok." You took a deep, calming breath, reminding yourself that your captain wasn't shallow. Well, actually, he was shallow. Extremely so. But he liked you. He was your friend. Maybe a little more, though you weren't sure whether it was further in the platonic direction or veered into romantic. You exhaled and turned to your captain. "Magnum."

"Hm?" He hummed his acknowledgement, giving you the softest eyes you've ever seen from him.

"You like me, right?" You started. He squinted at you once more. 

"... mm-hm?" He hummed, already not knowing where this conversation was headed.

"And you respect me?" You continued.

"Yeah…?" He snickered, bringing his hands up and dropping them back on his thighs.

"And that won't change right?" You begged. 

"Not unless ya give me reason to. Where're ya goin' with this, mate?" He crossed his arms and shifted so that he was facing you a little more. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked confused and worried. You didn't like it.

"... Magnum, I have… a confession." You turned to face him fully. He looked you up and down, trying to investigate your body language.

"... go on." He raised an eyebrow again.

"I'm afraid of thunder." You blurted out. For a moment, neither of you said anything. That continued for about 3 more moments.

"... and?" He said, eventually. 

"What?" You asked.

"Is that it?" He started to laugh.

"Wh-yeah." He sighed and clapped a strong hand on your shoulder, making you wince.

"Mate, we all have fears."

"Yeah, but mine's… dumb…" You mumbled. You tucked your knees into your chest and turned away from him.

"... I'm afraid of something." He murmured after a few seconds. You snapped your head up to look at him.

"What is it?"

"... rats." He sighed. You barked out a laugh. He gaped at you, incredulous. "Oi!"

"I'm sorry I just… remembered elephants and… yeah. It-yeah. You're just so big, it seems so silly." You rambled, still giggling.

"I'm trying to comfort you on your fear, and you're over there laughing at mine!" He scolded.

"I'm not, I get it! You're just… why would they be ascolded. To you, specifically?"

"Are ya serious! Y'ever heard of the plague?"

"Vaguely aware of it."

"Nasty, nasty business."

"You afraid of mice?"

"Nah, mice're cute."

"Well, that's presumptuous. Mice can spread disease."

"So yer afraid of thunder." He cut off the debate once he knew you'd made a reasonable point. You rolled your eyes.

"Yeah. The only good thing about a storm is the rain. And rainbows."

"It's just water. And light."

"It's pretty. But I'm hiding here. From the storm." 

"Mm. A'right. I'll wait too then." He stated. You frowned.

"Oh, you don't have to. Go enjoy the storm. Don't mind me." You waved your hand towards the door. He matched your frown.

"Well, no. I can't leave ya alone. What kinda cap'n doessat make me?" He scoffed. 

"You like the storm." You pointed out.

"There'll be other storms." He countered. 

"You can't be with me for all of them." 

"I can be with ya for this one." You tried to stare him down. He stared back. You soon got very, very uncomfortable and looked away with a tsk.

"... fine." You acquiesced. He smiled apparently pleased with himself.

You both sat there as the storm raged on. You flinched and covered your ears at any particularly loud BOOM, and Magnum flinched at your flinching. Whenever he thought you were being a little dramatic, he thought back to when a rat had gotten onto the ship and he screamed like a 5 year old girl he accidentally frightened once. That shut the thought down as quick as it popped up. He squeezed your shoulder when you whimpered and rubbed your back when you curled in on yourself.

Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore. He looked at your shaking figure and it made him feel so… what, sad? He hadn't felt sad since '04. So he made a decision.

He grabbed you by your upper arms and dragged you towards him, putting you in his lap. Your back was against his chest and he wrapped his arms around your middle.

"Mags?" Your voice cracked when you tried to ask what was happening.

"Try to go to sleep." He instructed. Another loud boom made you flinch hard.

"I can't…" you whispered. He sighed and rested his chin on your head.

"... dream of quiet places. Light wind and sprinkles of rain on a sunny day. Maybe a rainbow, if you'd want. Birds and worms and koi fish. All the dumb shit ya like. I'll bring ya to land soon and you can enjoy the quiet. Just… deal with it for now." He squeezed your middle. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, the vibrations from his chest soothing you a bit. 

He moved his hands to gently cup your ears. The sound it made calmed you a little. He slowly opened them again and flattened his palms to try and protect your ears from any further noise.

"Night, Mags…" You muttered.

"Night, mate." He rumbled back, not knowing if you could hear him or not.

It stormed through the night, and he made sure to wake you up to see the rainbow that appeared on the horizon. You stared at the rainbow, unaware that he had chosen to stare at you instead. 

[echo-of-sounds]

it’s okay to cry

Short drabbles of you comforting Aizawa, Toshi, and Gang Orca during a weak moment.

I feel like these aren’t as good as they could be. But I wanted to get something out today, so I hope you enjoy them. I also want to thank and credit @mrsvash​ for inspiring this piece and giving me the ideas for Toshi’s and Kugo’s!

Warnings: blood and vomiting/cough blood

Aizawa Shouta

“Hey,” you sighed at Shouta when he entered the apartment.

All you got was a grunt before he trudged into the bedroom. You didn’t expect a joyous homecoming, but you figured he’d be a little happy to see you. You’ve barely spoken to, let alone seen him, the past week. Every night you just got another text about his seventeen-hour day and hours of grading and what little sleep he’s gotten.

After a few stiff minutes, worry overcame you, sending you to find him. He was ripping a brush through his hair. It caught on a knot, provoking enough anger for him to launch it. Thankfully, it was towards the bed and not the wall.

You snatched it before he could. “Give it to me.”

“No.”

He growled your name.

“Shouta, I understand you’re angry, but don’t take it out on yourself like-”

“I’m not angry.”

“Okay, you’re not angry. Still, let me help you,” you muttered. He reluctantly accepted your hug. His entire body held tense under your hands. You pulled back and cupped his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. Strands of hair massed together. Red strained his eyes beyond their limit. Able to feel his exhaustion, you whispered, “I’m sorry, Sho. I know work’s been really hard on you lately. I hate seeing you like this.”

Bristles roughed along your palm as he nudged it. He spoke lower than you did, “I wish I could have one day without anything happening..”

“I know. I’m sorry it’s gotten to this point. You don’t deserve this stress.” You kissed his forehead, still petting his cheek. Next, you pecked his nose, grazing down to dried, cracked lips. They reacted to yours for a proper yet lazy kiss. His shoulders gave just a little.

You sat him on the bed where you crawled behind him, meticulously parting his hair into four sections. The separation helped minimize tugging when you began the long endeavor of brushing out the knots.

And it lasted for a good ten minutes. You could finally run your fingers through his hair catching no tangles. “Stay,” you told him when he was about to stand. He didn’t argue.

The bottle waited on the bureau. You grabbed it and retook your position. With plenty of lotion in hand, you lathered it across his shoulders and back. Strained and scarred skin soaked it up, no doubt appreciating the moisture as you rubbed it in, tenderly massaging his trapezius. You kept your fingers light since you did not know how overworked they were. From his sighs, you guessed it was pleasant.

“I love you.” You kissed his neck and pumped out more lotion for his lower back. Your thumbs kneaded along the middle muscles, earning a hiss that dulled into a handsome groan. Fingers pushed down and out. Lotion nourished abused skin. His shoulders yielded more and more.

“I’m so proud of you,” you hummed against his shoulder.

Sho placed his elbows on his knees, burying his head in his hands. The stifled sniffle told you everything. You didn’t need to see them. Knowing he was letting himself experience his emotions was all you wanted.

You put your legs around his waist, resting on his back, feeling his heat and quick breaths. Your lips continued with their kissing, your hands with their rubbing, occasionally cooing your love and praise.

Yagi Toshinori

You slowly opened the bathroom door, finding Toshinori curled up on the floor, hugging himself for warmth, sleeping on a towel. Trickles of blood fell from his lips, spotting the tiles. His scar appeared angrier, wrothing, disabling in the artificial light.

You softly shook his shoulder and whispered his name. He jarred awake, scanning for a fight. “It’s alright, baby. It’s just me.” You kissed the back of his hand then held it to your cheek. His skin was ablaze, warming your lips when you muffled into it, “It’s alright, Toshi. It’s alright.”

He struggled to sit up and slipped his hand away. The distance in his eyes chilled all the heat, sinking your heart because you knew what he was about to say: “Go to the living room. You don’t need to see this-”

“Toshi, don’t. Not today.”

“-This isn’t your problem.”

“Please.”

“I don’t want you to see-” Red leaked as he hacked into his hand. He moved for the toilet, choking, gagging out blood and bile. You rubbed his back, trying your best to soothe him through the flare. All the muscles in his torso seized. Skin rinsed in red and sweat. It strained his neck, flaring tendons, forcing water from his sunken eyes.

After one more heave, his body collapsed. He hardly had the strength to catch himself before his forehead smashed to the toilet seat. You guided him to rest against the wall so you could flush and wet a washcloth.

Toshi flinched from the cloth, his eyes snapping open again. He exhaled seeing it was you and let you calmly and gently wipe his face. His lips lowered at the quiet care, quivering from whatever stirred his mind while he stared at the ceiling.

A tear trailed down his cheek with his whimper, “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this… with me. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve-”

“Shhh, honey.” You kissed his clammy forehead. “I don’t ‘deal with you.’ I love you. I help you and take care of you. And it’s okay to cry,” you mouthed, feeling a sting in your throat.

His eyes squeezed, and he took in a shaky breath.

“It’s okay. I know you’re in pain. I know it hurts. It’s okay to cry.”

And he did, folding his legs to his chest, mashing his palms to his eyes. Tears fell. Hiccups sounded. Little whimpers came next, “I hate this…”

You cautiously coddled him to your chest.

“I’m so tired of this…”

“I know, honey. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” You brushed his hair from his face, revealing exhausted, destroyed eyes. Your lips pressed to his forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

You traced his jaw, kissing and sighing against him. Long legs interlocked with yours. Specks of blood dotted your shirt. You paid it no mind, accepting the weight bearing down on you as he snuggled deeper into your chest, trying to shove the world away.

Despite the sweat and embrace, Toshi shivered. A towel was the best you could do. Though it only covered his shoulders and chest, barely able to fit his arms. You swaddled the rest of him with your body, sheltering red ears, rubbing exposed, goosebumped skin, and kissing tears and trembles, all while he whimpered of pain.

Gang Orca

The apartment door opened. Kugo’s footsteps plodded into the bedroom. You looked up from your book, smiling sympathetically at his disheveled appearance. “Hey, you’re home late. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The way he yanked off his shirt and tossed his belt to the side told you he wasn’t, in fact, fine.

The bathroom door slammed behind him. The shower started. You left him alone through it, hoping it’d give him time to relax. But you did pick up his clothes, placing his underwear, shirt, and pants into the hamper, hanging up his vest, and straightening out his belt and tie. The suit’s jacket had a few rips on the sleeve. You set that aside. It could be easily repaired.

When the water stopped, another thing slammed. You heard Kugo swear through the door.

You knocked, asking, “Kugo, are you okay?”

The door blew open. You shuffled back. The temper that boiled so bright immediately ceased once his eyes landed on you. His shoulders dropped. His head hung. He rubbed his eyes, sighing, “I’m sorry. Today was… It was not good.”

“I’m sorry.” Your fingers reached for his, only able to wrap around two of them. “Do you want to talk-”

“No.”

Not needing an explanation, you nodded and brought him to the bed, undoing the towel before he laid down. When you rested beside him, he turned around. It worried you how he hid his face. Whatever was haunting him, you wanted to be there to help free.

Delicately and ready to pull away if needed, you reached for the large dorsal fin. Just as your skin touched his, his head moved. You froze. You watched and waited until he settled to try again. He remained still this time, allowing you to softly stroke the sensitive fin, smoothing to his neck and shoulders, observing the strong muscles twitching so faintly under your fingers.

Kugo’s hum was indistinct. A glint shined from his eye. You thought you imagined it, but then another came. You flattened to his back and embraced his frame, kissing the line of where black met white, eventually ebbing to the corner of his mouth.

Your lips caressed the patch of white around his eye and lifted the tear that threatened to fall. You hushed, “I love you.”

Massive fingers weaved with yours, bring your hand to rest on his heart. You nuzzled into his neck, laid your leg on his waist, swathing him the best you could, and listened to the subtle sniffles, comforting him between tears.

[qvid-pro-qvo]

worth it

qvo wrote something? and for a rare ship? say it ain't so! rafael barba x aaron hotchner x reader, because why not! happy december!

word count: 2325

rating: e for everyone, because it's always good to find the people who make it worth it to keep pushing (canon-typical mentions of violence).

link to ao3.

-

As is the case with any job, sometimes there’s a few weeks of hell.

As is the case with the BAU, a few weeks of hell is often the default.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten a full eight hours. Back-to-back-to-back coastal hops. An abduction, with a hard time limit, followed by a serial that’s quickly devolving. You do your best, as you always do, to find comfort with Aaron and having him right next to you, but it’s difficult as sleeping together becomes just as much of a rarity. He’s on when you’re off, he’s catching an hour while you chug another coffee.

There’s tension. Frustration. By the end of the second week, you can’t count the amount of times you’ve bickered with someone over nothing.

“I know this is a part we can’t exactly tell the next generation,” you say at one point, collapsing in a hotel armchair. “But sometimes our job sucks.”

Aaron’s agreement is a little snort, before his face meets a pillow on the bed.

Rafael can’t help but worry. You can’t blame him. Your calls with him are short and sweet, and his voice really does lift your spirits, but there’s only so much you can talk to him about and only so long you have.

Not to mention, you miss him. You miss him so much it hurts, and you know Aaron feels it too. It’s hard enough with him being in New York most days out of the week, but not seeing him at all feels like a piece of your soul gets left behind every time you hop the country.

But like all hell weeks, like all days, like all hours, eventually they end.

-

The jet is quiet. You’ve never seen so many BAU agents asleep at once, a miracle in and of itself, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of so many people getting some much deserved rest.

For once a case had a happy ending, and another isn’t waiting for the jet to refuel.

You move your eyes across each member in turn, watching their chests rise and fall. It’s reassuring, if you’re honest. Too many close calls for it not to be. Aaron’s slow and steady breathing across from you can be heard as you shift to face him, moving your ankle to cross with his under the table.

All in a few weeks’ work.

Your phone starts buzzing at your side. When you lift it and see Rafael’s name, a wave of warmth runs through you. You see it’s a video call, and you can’t help but smile before remembering your place in the center of the cabin. You answer, grin at Rafael, and then your finger lifts to press against your lips.

“Give me a second,” you whisper, flipping the camera around to face Aaron. You see Rafael’s whole expression soften, and watch as he kisses his fingers and presses them to the screen. “I’m gonna move away from all the snoring agents,” you say in a low murmur. When he nods, it’s with that same gentle smile, and a thumbs up.

Slowly, you lift from the chair. Aaron doesn’t move, a good sign that his sleep is deep, and you smile at him briefly before flipping the camera view and moving towards the curtain divider. Stepping behind it, you gently slide it shut before leaning against the small counter there, finally looking at Rafael.

“Someone wore him out,” he teases, and you chuckle and shake your head.

“If you think we had time to do anything but sleep, you are sorely mistaken, Raf.”

“Well, then I didn’t miss out on too much fun.”

Just talking to him makes your cheeks hurt from smiling, something you haven’t done a lot of the last few days. Seeing him feels good, feels great. You reach out for him, sighing a little at the thought of him still being too far to touch. “No. But we missed you. A lot. We still miss you. I can’t count how many times the bed was too cold.”

Rafael grins. It’s bright, joyous, and lights up his whole face. You’re a little taken aback with affection for him as he talks. “I missed you, too. More than you know. It’s been too long since I’ve come down, hasn’t it?”

“Or we’ve come up,” you counter, and feel there’s something you’re missing. “Of course, I don’t think even if we had a case in New York we would’ve had time to do anything more than a late, late dinner.”

“I know.” And then Rafael’s smirking. “Which meant that waiting around wasn’t an option anymore. So, it was no problem at all to book a train ticket when I got that text that told me you were coming home.”

It takes you a second. It’s been a long few weeks. But when it hits you, it crashes like a wave. Makes you gasp. “Wait. So that means —”

Rafael stands, then, very suddenly. Suddenly the background comes together in your head - a familiar couch, a familiar pillow, and then the camera flips. Jack, at the dining room table, bent over some homework, Jessica in the kitchen. She gives a wave when she sees Rafael pointing the camera at her, and in a moment tears spring to your eyes.

Your family. All there. All home.

“You all — you’re in Virginia?”

“And waiting for you back at home. Correct.” To say Rafael looks smug when the camera turns back around is an understatement. “I do have to warn you, however, that Jack is… taking care of the class pet this week. I am learning a lot about frogs.” Rafael’s nose wrinkles, scrunching up his features, and it makes you laugh a little too loud, you know it. But you can’t help it. You’ve never been more ready to be home.

“How long are you with us?” you ask him, reaching up to wipe at the corner of your eyes. .

“A few days. I’ve already been here for a couple nights.” And that’s when the curtain behind you pushes open. “Ah. Good evening, sleepyhead.” Rafael’s voice is warm as he sees Aaron in his camera’s view. It makes Aaron smile, just a little, as he closes the curtain and comes forward to wrap one arm around you and kiss your temple.

“Rafael.”

“The team?” you ask the unit chief, nodding towards the cabin.

“Still asleep, thank God. They’ve worked hard,” he murmurs. As he looks you over, you see his gaze carefully linger over where he knows bruises are. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, Aaron. I promise.” You reach for the hand on your waist, squeezing it before lifting the phone to face him once more. “Guess who’s in Virginia?”

At that, something releases in Aaron’s stance. He slumps a little, relief washing over him. “You got the time off?”

And that piques your interest. You turn to glance between the both of them, mouth a little open.

“Until the end of the week. They were very generous, and I’ve been known to work miracles,” Rafael chuckles.

“Did you know he was planning this?” you ask Aaron, who hums and kisses your temple again.

“We weren’t trying to go behind your back. I didn’t mention it in case he couldn’t get the time.”

Rafael smiles, then. “But I did. And it means I get to be here, waiting for you both.”

There’s a little pause. A moment where you turn into Aaron, hug his body against yours. Feel his hand up and down your back, his kiss on your head. Look at Rafael on the phone screen and realize just how soon you’ll be all together again. A family. Your family.

And then Aaron clears his throat a little. Eyes on Raf, too. “What did you say about Jack and frogs, Rafael? It was frogs, right?”

Your boyfriend snorts. “Well, you currently have one in your house. Don’t worry. It is contained, and Jack is doing a very good job at taking care of it.”

Aaron’s long-suffering look earns him a little bit of laughter, and you have to pinch his side a little bit. “It’s a class pet. This kind of thing happens.”

“There couldn’t have been a… I don’t know. A text? A heads-up?”

Raf snorts a little, shrugging. “Why do you think I'm telling you now? Jack wanted to wait until you walked in the door.”

-

You wake up cold, which beyond being unusual, is extremely disappointing. You groan, flip one way. Reach with a searching hand, but find no signs of warmth on the bed that you can curl towards.

With a grumble you flip again. You stretch your fingers, reaching, reaching... but once again, nothing. No one to be found. That’s what makes your eyes full open, blinking away the sun as best you can.

Wait.

The sun.

It all hits you at once. It’s much later than you usually wake up, and you feel a moment of panic climb up your throat as you begin to work your way out of the sheets and blankets. Surely someone’s been trying to get ahold of you. But when you reach for your phone… nothing. Nothing at all.

You roll back flat on the bed. A couple of deep breaths. It’s strange. Even on weekends, there’s usually someone who needs you. JJ, Emily, a case or two. Especially this late in the day.

And then you remember. A weekend. A full weekend, promised and delivered.

“Aaron,” Rafael says, a little distant. “Aaron.”

Rafael. He’s there, he’s home, with you and Aaron. That’s why you thought to reach for both sides of the bed.

“Just a second, Rafael,” Aaron mutters back, slightly muffled. “Let me finish.” Their combined voices urge you to the bathroom, lift you up from the bed. You move to the bathroom, almost stumble over a combination of their clothes on the floor and towels from last night before settling against the door jam.

It’s a scene you’re not treated to as often as you’d like. Aaron and Rafael, sleep shirts still on, sharing the bathroom sinks. It makes you smile, even as Rafael scoffs and turns to face the other man with a sharp look.

“Hotchner, I’m going to need you to pause for just a moment and stop hogging the mirror,” Rafael murmurs lightly, turning back and forward to examine the line of his jaw, tracing his facial hair. It’s gone thick, but a little wild, and you know he’s planning where to cut. “I can’t work in these conditions.”

“This mirror stretches from wall to wall,” Aaron retorts, rolling his eyes as he drags his razor down his cheek. Smooth and clean. He taps it against the sink, before going back for another line. “I’m betting you can find a place.”

Their voices are calm. Teasing. Just normal morning banter that calms your own heart rate. It soothes you, watching their routine.

“I’m simply suggesting placing yourself in the dead center of the mirror is less than ideal,” Rafael says. Taking a couple of steps closer. Waiting for a pause in Aaron’s hand before bumping him with his hip. “Especially when you fling your shaving cream so… generously.”

That makes Aaron stop. Turn. He catches your eye over Rafael’s shoulder, raising a brow as he looks down at him. “I don’t fling.”

“You fling. Look at our mirror. Look at those specks.”

Something devolves, then. There is indeed shaving cream flung, a short burst from the can at Rafael’s chest. Childish, maybe, but it makes Aaron chuckle, makes Rafael swear, makes you place a hand over your mouth to laugh before clearing your throat.

“Uh, boys?”

The tussling comes to a stuttering stop. There is definitely shaving cream on the floor. But thankfully, both Raf and Aaron turn to look at you with little smiles, once again helping some of the early morning drowsiness to fade away.

“Someone mind telling me why I woke up to a cold bed this morning?” It’s a little accusatory, and is immediately met with softened glances. Rafael, being closer and without shaving cream, moves to kiss your cheek, wraps his arms around you. When he tries to kiss your cheek, you push him away a little. “Oh, no, don’t be sucking up. Neither one of you stayed the course. Our big bed and me, all alone —”

“Always a flair for the dramatic,” Rafael sighs, loosening his grip. “Come on. Let me make it up to you.”

“No apology?” you counter, eyes wide. “I was so cold this morning.”

“I mean if you don’t want to kiss me, even after I came all this way —”

“We’re really arguing?” Aaron calls out as he moves his razor down his cheek the last couple of times. Glances over to the both of you with a little look, a smirk. “We do not spend enough time in one place for this. Kiss and make up so we can enjoy our New York visitor to his fullest.”

“You’re not out of the doghouse yet either, Aaron,” you counter, raising a brow at him. But when you look back at Rafael it’s with a warm smile. You cup his cheek, grinning at the way he squints at the sudden sunshine from the bedroom. “But I did miss you.”

“I know,” Rafael whispers, full of mirth and gentle love. “I missed you, too.”

There’s a sweet kiss shared, eyes closing as you feel his hand rest firmly on your waist. You smile into it, especially as you feel familiar warmth on your other side, more lips tickling against your neck. Surrounded by them. Surrounded by love.

It’s been a long few weeks. But this… this almost makes it worth it.

(“There better not be shaving cream on me,” you warn.

A beat of silence.

“There’s not not shaving cream.”

“Aaron.”

“At least it’s not on the mirror.”

“Rafael.”

“What? He flings.”)

-

taglist: @ssaic-jareau // @hotchseyebrows // @duchesschameleon // @a-brignac

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  August Walker x OFC Freya (Forest Nymph) Original Female Character is described as white/pale, short and of small build, hazel eyes, long dark hair.

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of past abusive relationships, on the run, alcohol consumption, Daddy Kink, DD/LG, Pet names, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, hyperspermia, cum play, cum feeding, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy test.

Previous Parts: 

Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars. Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1 Vampire Walter: Chapter 2

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

The blood slowly trickled across the board and off the table, coating the floor before running into the drain. August raised the heavy cleaver, and with one thunderous swipe severed the femur clean in two. The cleaver made a metallic clang that echoed around the stark tile lined room, and wiping his hands on his apron he lifted the product of his work and inspected his efforts closely. A smile spread over his lips as he looked up;

“There we go Mrs Mackenzie, a nice juicy bone for your dog”

The old woman smiled, her purple tinted grey hair in tight curls that barely moved as she nodded;

“Oh yes, that’ll be perfect! My Clarence will love it!”

At that very moment Clarence started yapping outside where he was tied to the specials chalkboard that sat on the sidewalk outside Walkers Meats, 10lbs of teeth, fur and anger wrapped into the body of a small West Highland Terrier;

“I’m sure he will. I’ll wrap it up for you and Freya will finish ringing up your order for you. We’ll get it delivered this afternoon…”

August walked around the counter and set the wrapped bone into the box, nodding to his assistant to finish up the order. She knew that the bone would be free of charge, but that Mrs Mackenzie would insist on tipping and sliding her $10 which August was more than happy for Freya to keep. The slight girl turned and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, before she quietly nodded and continued with her duties.

Returning to the butchery area August glanced up and caught sight of his reflection in the painted mirror, the design obscuring the scarring on the side of his face, giving him that moment of relief from those memories of a past long ago, a life he had left behind when he had sought out quiet solitude in the peaceful mountain town of Blackwater Lake. People minded their own business there and didn’t ask questions. If you had a skill that could help others you were welcomed into the community. How August got into the meat business is a story for another day, but as his gaze travelled across the mirror to where Freya was measuring out the wild herb mixes into small mason jars he smiled and remembered instead how she came into his life.

-

Pulling the sign in from the sidewalk August was exhausted. Running a business completely on his own had seemed like a good idea when he’d started, he enjoyed his own company and he distrusted anyone else to do the job to a standard he would approve of. What he hadn’t counted on was the residents of this sleepy little town not only accepting him, but joyous that he was there and wanting to talk endlessly every time they visited his store. Although he was always polite and did his best to end conversations quickly, after eight hours of it he had jaw ache and knew he would need to work well into the night on the new sides of beef that had been delivered that morning if he were to have any stock to sell the next day. He glanced longingly at the small sign that sat propped up in the window; ‘Help Needed - Enquire Within’, yet he hadn’t had any takers in the month the sign had been up. 

The icy winter wind curled at his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as he let out a sigh, heaving the heavy sign into the building so it didn’t blow away in the night as a icy squall blew in from the mountains. As the door slammed shut behind him it echoed a knock around the store, but when it came again he turned and let out a far from masculine yelp; the face of a pale young woman stared back at him like a ghoul in the darkness. Clearing his throat and smoothing down his blue and white striped apron, he approached the door and opened it;

“May I help you Miss?”

She nodded down to the sign;

“Do you still need someone?”

Her teeth were chattering, and it was hardly surprising as she was barely dressed for the weather, the knitted cardigan doing little to ward off the cold wind. August opened the door to allow her to enter, looking down at the top of her head as she slunk past him.

“Let me get a pot of coffee on, you must be freezing”

As he disappeared into the back office he set the pot of coffee on to heat before grabbing an old jacket that was hanging on the back of the door, returning to where his visitor stood in the store a few moments later, handing her the jacket;

“Its cold in here, we can’t have the heat on because of the meat”

Nodding she took the jacket, her teeth still chattering;

“T-t-thanks… its still warmer than outside”

He handed her a mug of steaming coffee;

“Sorry, i don’t have any creamer or sugar…” She wrapped her delicate fingers around the mug using it more for heat than sustenance as he leant back against the counter on the other side of the store; “So… you’re wanting a job? What experience have you got? You worked in retail?”

She shook her head and muttered a quiet no, keeping her eyes averted from him as she spoke;

“But i will try anything… just looking for a new start”

“Are you running from something?” A gentle nod of her head and the way she clutched the mug tighter told August it was a someone not a something; “Look, if you’re willing to learn, work hard and pay attention, i’ll give you a trial. I’ve gotta level with you, you’re the only person who’s shown any interest in the sign, and i’m getting desperate, so if you want you can start tomorrow”

Her head snapped up and for the first time he saw her eyes, deep hazel peering out from behind long strands of dark brown hair;

“Really?”

“Yes. Really” he stated in a matter of fact way; “I’ll need to get your address and details for the wages…”

“Oh… i’m not… i’ve not got anywhere. I guess i’ll find a cheap motel…”

August paused;

“Kid, there’s no motel in town… at least not this time of year. But i might have a solution for you”

Her eyes widened in fear and August realised whatever she was running from had done more damage than she showed;

“No no, not that” he assured her; “There’s a small apartment above the shop - two in fact, i’ve got one and the other i’ve never rented out, never got round to it… its small but completely self contained, your own entrance and everything, completely secure”

Once a few forms had been filled out August had gotten the girl settled in the small studio apartment. He’d shown her how the fold out bed worked, explained that the hot water fed off the furnace for the whole building so she could use as much as she wanted. A couple of minutes after he’d left her in the apartment he knocked at her door, surprised to hear the locks sliding across at first, but then realising she needed to feel safe. When she peered around the door she almost looked surprised to see him there, as if it would be anyone else;

“Umm yeah?”

August handed her a box of things he’d scavenged from his own kitchen;

“Here’s just a few things to see you through the night… I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while, but the bread was in the freezer and it’ll defrost pretty quickly if you put it in the toaster”

He handed the box to Freya, surprised at how smooth but also small her hands were as she took it from him as they brushed against his own. She nodded and smiled;

“Thank you Mr Walker”

“Night. See you bright and early tomorrow morning” 

-

The next morning August woke to an insistent knocking on his door. Grumbling to himself he pulled on his robe and stalked across his small apartment, pulling the door open with a thunderous look on his face, ready to give whatever maniac that was knocking on his door at 5am a piece of his mind;

“WHAT THE… oh… hi…”

Freya was standing on his doormat, a look of shock on her face;

“Hi… i’m ready to start”

“To… start?”

“Work. You said bright and early”

August ran his palm over his face;

“I… When i said…” he let out a long slow breath; “I meant 8am”

“Oh.”

That was a long day, but by lunchtime Freya had mastered the cash desk and had already started to come out of her shell, the locals more than welcoming for the tiny girl with the woodland eyes, and with her help August was able to catch up on his work.

Over the following month her input had helped August expand his products, suggesting a range of seasonings in reusable jars, where if the customer returned the mason jar they’d get a discount off the next one they purchased. He discovered she had this unfathomable knowledge of herbs and plants, but also had this connection with nature he couldn’t quite understand. He’d sometimes catch her staring out of the window at the trees blowing in the wind, as if listening to their songs that were beyond his own ears.

One thing was for sure, there was a sense of magic to her and August thanked the stars above that she walked into his store on that cold winter night.

-

Back in the present August was busy cleaning the cutting table as Freya busied herself with her jars - it was her own little enterprise now and one she was absolutely proud of. He could see that she kept glancing outside, gnawing on her lip;

“Freya, everything ok?”

“Yes Mr Walker. I was just thinking, the next batch wild garlic is ready to be picked, if i collect some this afternoon i can have more chimichurri mixed ready for tomorrow, and that’s when the beef delivery is coming in”

August let out a chuckle;

“How many times do I have to say to call me August…” he met her gaze with a smile; “And yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea. The store’s quiet and i’ll be doing deliveries in a while, so sure, go exploring”

“Thank you Mr Walker”

August rolled his eyes and let out a laugh, watching as she hung up her apron and grabbed her foraging basket, skipping out of the door and towards the creek that fed into the lake a couple of miles away.

-

Three hours later August was driving back along the gravel road that led into town, having made his deliveries. The spring air was damp but warm, rain threatening to spill but the clouds unwilling to release their bounty just yet. Rounding the bend he looked out over the soft marshland, the grass knee high already and he saw a familiar figure stepping through the green undergrowth. With a smile he pulled his SUV to a stop at the side of the road, stepping out of the vehicle he leaned against the door as he watched Freya as she slowly made her way through the field, before she stopped as her attention moved to the treeline. Following her gaze he watched as a bear emerged from the woods and his heart sank. The native wildlife would be coming out of hibernation, and would be grumpy and hungry. He went to shout but a sudden rush of wind silenced his voice, watching as she held her arm out and the grass flattened in front of her as if a wind devil had made its way through. Glancing back to the bear it had stopped in its tracks but was still staring at her, but then started to circle around on the spot before settling down as if for a nap.

August anxiously watched, knowing if Freya ran she could make it to the car as long as the bear was weak, but he didn’t want to risk that it hadn’t had a belly full of salmon yet, so he quickly reached into the vehicle and pulled his unregistered handgun from beneath his seat. Back at the side of the road he raised the firearm at the bear, glancing at Freya who had now spotted him waiting for her. She started to quicken her pace through the grasses, eventually breaking into a run as she neared the embankment of the road. August glanced to where the bear had been and let out a yell as he saw it was starting to approach them;

“Freya, RUN!”

Doing as he instructed she broke into a sprint, her legs carrying her through the grass and up the embankment. Flinging his door open he motioned for her to dive in, her basket being launched into the passenger footwell as she tumbled across the centre console and into the passenger seat, August launching himself into the driver's seat and gunning the engine as he slammed the door shut, the urgent crunch of tyres on loose gravel dulling the sound of the grizzly’s roar as it had caught up, but was now rapidly disappearing into the distance of the rear view mirror.

August only slowed down as he reached the urban centre of Blackwater Lake, Freya’s breathing having finally levelled out as she turned to him;

“So… there’s bears here?”

He slowed the vehicle and pulled to a stop in a parking lot before turning to her;

“Yes. And moose and cougars and mountain lions… hell sometimes I even hear howls in the night so there’s probably something wolfy up in those mountains too… We need to get you better prepared for nature” August paused; “And what was that thing you did with your hand? That made the grass flatten and the bear sit down…”

Freya shrugged;

“I’m not sure… it's just this thing i’ve always been able to do, calm animals down”

“Huh. Didn’t seem to work this time…”

She glanced at him, her eyes wide;

“I think that was because you were there…”

August let out a laugh, before sitting back in his seat;

“Okay, point taken. I need a drink. We’re at Big-G’s, I'll buy you dinner…”

-

August regretted his decision. He hadn’t factored in how slight Freya was in comparison to her ability to consume alcohol, so three drinks later where all he’d had was lite beer, Freya was completely wasted. The giveaway was when she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder whilst he’d been talking to Geralt - the bar owner - and she’d started to drool on his shirt. Geralt had told him to ‘get his girl home’ with a wry laugh, telling August his meal was on the house. Something had stopped August from correcting the ashen haired man, looking down at the imp of the girl leaning on him. 

He’d managed to carry her to his car fairly easily but the journey up the steps at their building had been more of a challenge. He’d managed to get her to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but had been surprised when she’d also wrapped her legs around his waist. Although it meant he could use one arm to hold her up, the feel of her warm body clinging to his sent a rush of heat through his stomach straight to his groin, he was just thankful she was so out of it she didn’t notice the tent in his pants. 

As he juggled his keys he found the spare for her apartment but then thought better of it, unsure how she was when she’d had alcohol, and instead opened his own apartment. Crossing the almost dark room he reached the couch and slowly lowered her down to the cushions, her whimpers of loss as he started to pull away making him pause;

“Mmmm Daddy, you’re so warm…” 

Holding her still a low rumble slowly bubbled through his throat when she nuzzled against his neck;

“Daddy smells so good…” and she pressed a kiss to the stubble on his chin.

August knew she was drunk, probably didn’t even realise it was him, after all who would want someone as broken and scarred as he was, but for that briefest of moment’s he relished her touch and what was going on in her tequila addled mind. He couldn’t help himself and pressed the briefest of kiss to her cheek;

“Time to sleep now little Kitten” he muttered before reluctantly uncoupling himself from her grasp, pulling a blanket over her as she dozed on his couch. Raking his hand down his face he let out a sigh, before grabbing a glass of water and setting it onto the coffee table in front of her. A scribbled note on the back of a flyer explained that she was drunk and he wasn’t sure if she would need his help, and he didn’t want to invade her privacy of her own apartment.

Having poured himself a generous glass of vodka, August withdrew to his own bedroom, silently closing the door before stripping for bed. It was an early night but without the TV to entertain him and no desire to get lost in a book, he settled on top of the covers in just his underwear, sipping at the ice cold liquor as he willed the swelling of his loins to subside. However every time he tried to clear his mind, all he could imagine was Freya. The thought of her small body beneath his, their bodies sweaty and writhing as one. Finally with a curse he gave in to his desires, pulling his underwear down and taking his hard length into his hand, pumping dry to increase the friction as his mind descended further into taboo territory. He imagined it was her hand, calling him Daddy as she asked if she was doing it right, that her perfect lips would duck down and take his bulbous tip into her mouth, her tongue lapping at his slit as her hazel eyes would stare back up at him, wide with innocence. With a strangled cry he came in violent spurts, covering his hand and stomach in ropes of his cum, thoughts of the delicate woman in his lounge lapping at his spent seed prolonging his orgasm until he was aching and empty. With a curse he looked down at the mess he’d made, realising he needed to clean himself up.

-

The quiet click of his front door woke August the next morning, pushing himself up off the pillow as he heard small footsteps down the outside of the building and the quiet beep of his car being unlocked. Wondering what the hell was happening he leapt out of bed and peered out of the window, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw a dishevelled Freya gathering the wild garlic that had been scattered around his inside of his vehicle the day before.

A few minutes later the thud of his keys falling onto his doormat where she’d posted them through the letterbox sounded through his apartment, and when he went to collect them he found a small note with them;

‘Mr Walker, thank you for your help, I hope I didn't make a fool of myself last night. Your car stinks of garlic now, i’m going to walk up the creek and collect some herbs that will help reduce the odour, Freya x’

-

An hour later when she hadn’t returned, August set off towards the creek through the pleasant woodland, the sunlight leaving dappled patches of gold on the forest floor. Coming to the wide bend in the creek where the water was shallow, he saw the swing over the water that someone had put there years ago, mismatched ropes and a wooden seat, and how someone had now woven wildflowers into the ropes, and as he glanced upstream he saw Freya knee deep in the water, a butterfly dancing on her hand.

Something overcame him and he pulled off his boots and socks, rolling up his pants as he stepped out into the water and sat on the swing, silently watching as she charmed nature beyond a simple human’s comprehension, having control of the elements like a forest nymph. August had seen a lot of unusual things in the time he’d lived in Blackwater Lake, he knew those that had something a little special about them gravitated towards the sleepy little mountain town, so as he watched Freya make her way upstream towards him he realised there was magic in the air. Small water spouts rose from the water as she took each step, as if chasing after her touch as she stepped from rock to rock submerged under the water. 

As she approached the shallow bend in the creek she finally looked up and saw August, a smile spreading over her lips;

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Its so pretty here, isn’t it?” she asked wistfully

“Beautiful from where i’m sitting”

She approached where he sat, stopped at arms reach, a hint of blush warming her cheeks;

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate last night… thank you for taking care of me, i’m not a big drinker”

“You weren’t inappropriate…” he reassured her; “But it's been a while since a beautiful woman called me Daddy… since before… since before i was broken...”

Her gaze moved to the scar on the side of his face, and without a word she stepped forward and pressed her hand to the spidery scarring. In that moment August felt the magic in her touch, prickling at his skin before she nimbly climbed onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist and she lowered her lips to his, softly brushing against his as she spoke;

“You’re not broken, no more than I am…”

The kiss was soft and slow, and as her tongue started to gently tease at the seam of his lips she eased her weight completely onto his lap, her core pressing to his, the heat of their growing lust growing like an ember between them. 

Her small tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him as she pressed her body flush to his chest, small whimpers coming from her as his hands splayed over her back and pulled her firmly down onto his growing arousal. When the need for oxygen finally took precedence August’s lips traced a path of kisses down her jaw and neck, her fingers winding through his dark curls as her head fell back to give him better access to the pale expanse of her collarbone;

“Oh Daddy…”

“That’s it my little one, i’m going to treat you so well, my little Kitten…” August’s mustache brushed against her heated skin as he spoke, the gentle sway of the swing letting their bodies move against each other.

Just at that moment an ominous creak sounded above them, drawing their attention up into the tree’s canopy, just in time to see the rope that held the swing up snap, plunging them down into the shallow creekwater below.

With shouts and screams the moment of passion was lost, taken over by the shock of the water hitting their heated skin. August helped Freya up, her dress plastered to her skin in much the same way his shirt was, soaked head to toe he shook the water from his hair;

“Home?”

“Yes Daddy” Freya purred, pulling into his touch as he wrapped an arm around her to help her out of the water.

-

Pushing in the door to his apartment, clothes were being pulled from each other's bodies even as the door was still ajar. As he pulled his shirt off, Freya’s hands were curling into the hair on his chest, an almost feral growl bubbling from her lips as she ran her hands down to his stomach and rested on the buckle of his belt. Catching her hands in his he held them gently, only speaking when she looked up and met his gaze;

“Kitten, I want to be sure you want this… You’re in total control here, you set the boundaries, you say when you need to stop. But if you do want this, i’ll be your Daddy and take care of you like a Princess”

Freya voice shook as she spoke;

“I want this… my last… he wanted to be my Daddy but didn’t treat me right. He took more than I could give…”

August lifted her small hands to his mouth, kissing each fingertip with such great care and tenderness her heart almost melted before she finally spoke again;

“We should really check for leeches”

“WHAT?!”

Freya had never seen anyone strip their clothing off quite as fast as August just had. For a big man - and a pretty tough one at that - the mere thought of little blood suckers had him stripping completely naked in a matter of seconds, Freya pulling her dress off a little slower until she stood in just her simple underwear. August was still patting himself down, turning to look at his behind;

“Am I ok?”

Freya couldn’t help herself, stepping forwards and taking two handfuls of August’s pert asscheeks, giving them a squeeze before running her palms over the perfectly rounded globes of his buttocks;

“More than ok”

In the following moments August carried her to his small bathroom, turning the shower on before he stepped under the warm jets of water, pulling her with him so he could soap her down. The scent of sandalwood of his soap as he carefully washed every inch of her body was overwhelming, taking care of her to wash any last traces of creek water from her body. He paused as he reached the apex of her thighs, waiting for her agreement which she quickly nodded for him to continue, his large hand sliding between her legs and caressing her lips. His skilled fingers soon sought out her pearl, teasing it gently from its hood before he slid a finger into her waiting heat, a cry falling from her lips which he quickly swallowed with a kiss. His work calloused hands quickly drove her to an orgasm - a first of many - and as she came she called his name, like a prayer on her lips. 

Shutting the water off, August carefully lifted her out of the bath, wrapping a large towel around her before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. On the messy covers her hair clung to her skin, before he carefully lifted the long tendrils from her chest and was able to take in the sight of her petite naked body laying fresh and prone on his bed. Her hand reached out for him, pulling him close;

“Daddy, I want to feel you…”

August smiled;

“Will you be a good girl for me Kitten? Do you think you can take me? You’re awfully small, and I'm pretty big…”

She sat up, pressing a hand to his chest;

“Can I try? Can I go on top?”

Nodding August lay on the bed, propped up against the pillows, lifting her petite frame on top of him. He watched with pleasure as she wriggled down the bed, her hands gripping his thighs as she settled between his legs. Wrapping her small hands around his generous length she looked up at him as she started to give small licks to his hot flesh, her fingers struggling to encircle his meaty girth. Opening her mouth she took a good three inches between her lips straight away, a litany of curses falling from August’s lips as he felt the hot wet heat of her mouth engulf him. It was better than he could ever had imagined, and he had to grip at the bedsheets to stop himself from cumming at that very moment. Steadying his breathing he let out a low sigh before he reluctantly pulled her off, a trail of spittle hanging between his dick and her mouth;

“But Daddy, I want to taste your cum…”

“I know Kitten, but it's going to be a lot the first time, and I want to see your cunt dripping with me, knowing your tight little pussy is going to overflow with the amount I'm going to pump into you. Now be a good girl and see what you can do, let's make it fit…”

Straddling his thick thighs she positioned herself over his hard shaft, her hand holding him steady as she swiped him through her folds to douse his gnarled girth with her juices, before settling with the tip at her entrance. August ran his hands up and down her arms, comforting her and hoping to get her to relax. He was a patient man but the feel of her soaked flesh pressing against his crown was becoming a struggle not to grab her hips and pull her down until he was balls deep in one swift thrust.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Freya slowly lowered herself onto August’s shaft, going at a pace she could cope with, but the strain of holding back caused perspiration to bead on August’s forehead;

“Doing so well Kitten… I know its a lot, but you can do it… you’re so fucking tight…. Fuck…”

Taking a deep breath Freya finally let herself fall the rest of the way, feeling him part her silken walls until she was settled on his lap. Tears fell from her eyes, tiny diamonds adorning her cheeks at the overwhelming sense of fullness she was experiencing. Seeing these August kissed them away, his praises made her swell with pride as he admitted to her he was struggling not to cum from just the feeling of her tight walls engulfing him. He pushed a hand between their bodies, resting his palm on her stomach;

“Put your hand here… you’re so tiny I can feel myself deep inside you, your little tummy blown out with my dick…”

His thumb crept down and grazed at her pearl, making her cry out before yearning for more. With his ministrations she was soon relaxed enough to start to ride him, her nimble thighs bouncing on his meaty counterparts, feeling the slick push and pull as he filled her whilst she drove them towards their peak. 

Unsurprisingly Freya came first, the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through her body was all too much to hold back, and she came with a silent scream, her body gripping August so tight it set him off, pushing in so deep he was sure his dick had kissed her cervix, before flooding her with endless ropes of his thick seed, soothing her inner core with his milky gift. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her to his chest, holding her tight as the floods of emotions surged through her, stroking her back tenderly.

Eventually he carefully lifted her onto the bed, peppering her bare skin with bristly kisses, before parting her thighs and leaning back to admire his handiwork, a thick sheen of white covering her swollen petals. With a single finger he carefully swiped through his mess, before holding it to her mouth;

“Taste Kitten… taste our passion…”

Holding onto his wrist she sucked the digit into her mouth, her tongue tasting their combined essence. When his finger finally dropped from her lips his gaze fell down and hers followed, her eyes going wide when she saw he was hard and ready for more. Laying back she hooked her hands behind her knees and spread herself open for him;

“Daddy, will you fill me up again, please?”

Positioning himself at her cum soaked hole August smiled, a dark hint of lust glinting in his eyes;

“It would be my pleasure Kitten”

-

Three weeks later

Freya chewed nervously on her lip, having circled the isles of the drug store too many times to count now, waiting for a time when there was no-one near what she needed. Finally it was the right moment and she slunk into the isle, grabbing the thin rectangular box before stepping back and bumping into someone, her item tumbling to the floor as a third set of feet appeared;

“Freya! Mrs Syverson! Good Morning!”

It was Sue from the coffee shop, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere just as Mrs Syverson had backed away from the opposite shelf to keep little baby Luna from grabbing the glass bottles of antacid medicine. Mrs Syverson immediately clocked what Freya had been holding;

“Oh Freya, could you just reach those things for me? I can’t reach down with Luna here…”

With shaking hands Freya handed the bag of cotton wool balls and the pregnancy test to the woman only a couple of years her senior, who in turn smiled at Sue as she laughed;

“Sy’s always keeping me on my toes… in more ways than one” She winked before tugging on Freya’s arm; “Sweetie, I need to place an order for a big cookout we have coming up for Sy’s birthday…”

Steering her away from town gossip Sue, Mrs Syverson lowered her voice;

“I’ll meet you outside sweetie, don’t worry about it, i saw you circling the shop”

A few minutes later Mrs Syverson appeared at the door, two drugstore bags in her hand before handing one to Freya;

“My advice, tell August now, do the test together”

“Are you sure? Do you think he’ll be angry?”

“Angry? Hell no, i think it’ll be what he wants, and no matter what the result he’s always had puppy dog eyes for you, we could all tell from the moment you walked into his life”

Peering into the bag Freya saw there was also a bag of Hershey’s kisses;

“You’ll need the sugar, to calm your nerves afterwards”

“Thanks Mrs S… i appreciate it”

“No problem Freya… and i’ll see you tomorrow, i really do need to place that order, but get today over and done with first”

That afternoon Freya and August took the test, then feasted on kisses of every kind.

[bl--ankhaeji]

Bed of Roses

Pairing~ Emperor!Taeyong x CivilianPharmacist!Reader

Genre~ fluff,, angst,, empireau

Warnings~ smut..like three different scenes,,fem!recieving oral,,handjob,,switch?Tae/Reader,,Talks of war,,mentions/slight descriptions of death,,mentions/descriptions of extreme illness,,Taeyong has PTSD and nightmares,,mentions of blood,,Taeyong has insecurites,,mentions of rotting flesh

A.N~ This is my fic for the taeyong gallery collab hosted by @alreadyblondenow   I am releasing two days later than planned I am sorry for that. This fic is based off of the painting The Kiss by Gustave Klimt. Also big thanks to my mutual/beta reader, Xiami, @kjmsupremacist​ and the mutual who made this beautiful banner for me, Mylin, @suh-insane​ This is my longest fic so far I hope you all enjoy 😊 Oh and before I forget there is a whole like sort of surgery scene in here PSA I am no doctor, I know nothing substantial about medicine or medicinal practices. I got the inspiration for that scene from a drama so...(props if you can guess which one it is)

W. Count~ 12.5k 

The screams of thousands ringing in the air is deafening. Buildings are burning to the ground from a ravenous blaze. A vibrant haze of orange and red covers every single object in sight. No matter where he looks there is someone crying; hell, even the sky seems to be crying tonight. Taeyong’s legs give out from under him, bringing the once-strong prince to his knees as his head drops, hanging lowly in shame. How had he let it get this far? What happened to his beautiful peaceful empire full of its joyous people?

War. That’s what happened. His father had gotten power hungry and bloodthirsty, a terrifying duo. He remembers sitting in the royal meetings listening to the decisions his father would make, hating every single one but not having the authority let alone the guts to stand up to him. Hurried footsteps bring the prince out of his memories as a peasant girl, barefoot and in a tattered dress, appears in front of him.

“Prince Taeyong!” she cries, tears rushing down her face as if trying to see who will beat the other to the ground first. The prince's head snaps up at her cries, looking intently at her face. Her once-beautiful features are now horribly damaged and scarred from what looks like a massive burn. The girl opens her mouth, words making their way out until they stop suddenly and are replaced with a blood-curdling scream. 

It’s then that Taeyong notices the spear cutting through her flesh, beginning to protrude through her midriff before it retrieds back through her body. The girl’s now-limp body falls in a heap in front of the prince, her blood flowing rapidly out of the deep gash. In her place stands an enemy soldier. The soldier raises his sword and the two men quickly commence into a brief battle. Taeyong quickly overtakes the soldier, tearing him down almost effortlessly. 

The tired male stands tall, chest heaving, almost completely covered in blood before he rushes back to the girl, cradling her in his arms, even though his subconscious already knows it’s too late. “M-miss, oh my god miss, p-please please wake up,” he stutters frantically, lightly tapping her face. “MEDIC!! HELP SOMEONE!” he screeches so loudly it feels as if it’s ripping his throat. 

Countless people have died in front of him this whole time. Countless bodies lay around him–men, women, and children alike. Yet he’s hellbent on trying to yell for a medic that he knows isn’t there to help this one girl. Suddenly, he sees the girl's eyes flutter open. “My prince,” her voice barely whispers, her shaking hands reaching up slowly to softly cradle the prince’s tear streaked face. Suddenly the strength returns to her body, her hands, once gentle, now harshly gripping the side’s of Taeyong's face, nails causing what feels like permanent moon shaped indentures on his face. “YOU!” she spits. 

Her eyes, once gentle and kind, tainted with fear, now hold an anger and bloodlust so intense it is almost suffocating. “You’re the reason I’m like this! You and the royal family caused this-this WAR. And for what reason, huh? Thousands of lives lost; all of my friends and family are now dead because of you. I’M EVEN DEAD NOW BECAUSE OF YOU!!” Her hands now tightly grip his neck. “If I have to die by your hands then you have to die by mine. You made this bed of thorns, now lay in it. DIE!” 

“AHHHHHH!” An ear piercing cry leaves the man's lips as he now sits up in his bed scrambling to the headboard as if trying to get away. His clothes and bedding are drenched in sweat. His personal guard, Doyoung, rushes into the room, thinking there was a possible intruder from the emperor's cries. Even though this was far from the first time the emperor was plagued by night terrors, he could never be too certain.

“Your Highness, Your Highness please. Taeyong! Snap out of it; you’ll wake the entire empire, sir please.” Doyoung pleaded with the now sobbing man. “Your Highness, it’s okay it was just a dream, none of it is real.” The guard's large hand lands on the emperor’s back as he rubs soothing circles in hopes of calming the almost hysterical man. 

The dream may not have been real but his pain was, the war was real. His sobs are deafening. 

His people, his country. He failed them; he’s still failing them.

~

The once-cowering man now stands tall with an aura of elegance and power radiating off of him. After Doyoung’s fruitless attempts at trying to talk Taeyong into getting some help for his recurring nightmares, the emperor was due down in Neo City, sometimes referred to as N-City, the capital of the Neo Empire. At least once a month Taeyong comes down from the castle placed in the heart of Neo City and walks around greeting and getting to know the citizens of the city. Taeyong has always been very passionate about knowing the people under him and knowing how they live. He never wants to be an emperor that lets his people suffer while he lives extravagantly in the castle. 

He figures that’s the least he can do after failing them once already. 

He shrugs on his royal cloak even though he and everyone else knows that it’ll come off in no time once he joins the people. Taking a seat in the carriage across from Doyoung, Taeyong is handed his crown.  

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

Fuck fuck fuck. That’s all that you can think of as you race to make it on time. You’re so fucking late; how could you have let it slip your mind? The emperor always comes down around this time and you’re usually always in your spot on time, but you woke up late this morning after pulling an all-nighter preparing medicinal herbs for the elderly people down your street. 

Your rucksack flops lifelessly beside your hip as you finally come to a stop, managing to make it to the spot in the nick of time. You had to deliver the herbs this morning and it almost cost you to miss seeing the emperor. Ever since Taeyong had taken over as emperor and started making his monthly visits, you always made sure you were there to be able to see him. You had a special spot you always occupied. It was the perfect spot where you could see him but not be front and center so that he could see you. 

Indiscernible chatter and yelps of delight grow louder and more constant. The second you turn your head, an unmistakable crown floats atop the heads of an ample number of people. At that same moment you hear the emperor's joyous laugh, the beautiful sound bringing an uncontrollable smile to your lips. The crowd of people slowly thins out, finally allowing you to catch a glimpse of the handsome man, and you can’t help but to be taken aback by his beauty even though this is far from your first time seeing him. The first thing you look at are his eyes. Despite his entire demeanor radiating a bubbly happiness, you can see the truth in his eyes. 

Taking in the appearance of the royalty, you notice the dirty cuffs on his white button up that sit rolled up on his forearms. Ahhh he must’ve been helping Mr. Young plant vegetables again. Your mind conjures an image of the older male who has the gall to make even the emperor plant vegetables for him and  a small chuckle falls from your lips. Making your gaze up to his head, you take in the royal crown. You always wonder how the crown manages to stay rooted on his head despite sitting on it lopsided 90% of the time. A crooked smile that shines brighter than the sun graces the emperor's features and you suddenly feel your cheeks warm like a furnace. 

Too caught up in your trance, you don’t feel the person bump into you until you’re already on the ground. The silence that greets you rings heavy in the air and isn’t broken until you hear a gasp, while at the same time feeling warm, nimble fingers wrap around your arm, gently lifting you from the ground. “Are you okay?” an male voice rumbles, a voice you’re no stranger to, a voice you were just delighted to hear mere seconds ago. 

“I uh I-I ah-h y-y-yes-,” you stutter, struggling to form coherent words once you realize that the emperor has helped you up from the ground. 

The emperor helped you up.

The emperor has his hand wrapped around your arm.

The emperor saw your fall... Dear God THE EMPEROR SAW YOUR FALL!

“I-I uhh YES-yes, I am fine,” you rush out, keeping your head down, refusing to meet the eyes of Emperor Taeyong, terrified of the judgement that might lie in them at your embarrassing fall. You quickly release yourself of his hold, scurrying away before he or anyone else can get a glimpse of your face. With your heart pounding in your ears and tears pricking your eyes you run back to your house as fast as you can manage, cutting your time to see the emperor extremely short. Hey, at least you have more time to prepare; you’re going to make things a little bit different today. 

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

“Your Highness.” Doyoung’s curt voice takes Taeyong’s attention away from the retreating back of the girl he just helped off of the ground mere seconds ago. 

“Wha-–ah yes! Let’s keep moving, shall we?”  

The sound of the horses' feet clacking against the stone ground echoes throughout the carriage. “Doyoung,” the emperor starts, looking almost wistfully out of the window. “Do you think that girl from earlier is okay?” 

“I would assume so, seeing as how she had no trouble when running away as if she had just robbed a bakery,” he replied with a slight tilt in his voice.

“She did run away quite enthusiastically, didn’t she?” Taeyong can’t help the small grin that overtook his face at the memory of the girl. It was rather funny seeing her scramble away as if she had just committed a crime. 

“Your Highness, we have arrived.” The coachman speaks from the outside of the carriage as it slows to a stop. 

Despite the limited space, Taeyong stands, shouldering the heavy royal robe. The door to the carriage is opened by one of the royal guards, who proceeds to escort Taeyong to the steps of the palace. A sound of disdain falls from the guards lips and catches Taeyong’s attention. “What seems to be the problem, might I ask?” Halting his steps, Taeyong turns towards the guard and gives him his full attention. 

Realizing the emperor heard him, the guard stiffens, stuttering over his words hurriedly, attempting to make sure the emperor didn’t misunderstand. “Ah—no, Your Highness. There is no problem; not with you, at least, it’s just there’s this girl that always comes to the palace every week, and it’s just really annoying to send her away all the time.” 

Spotting a girl making her way up the palace steps, the guard and Taeyong watch as the girl encounters her first guard, thrusting the huge bouquet into his face then bowing, appearing to say something completely inaudible from this distance. Standing straight, she looks as if she begs the guard for something, a hopeful look etched onto her face only for it to fall after the guard says something in return. Seemingly giving up, the girl turns to leave the palace, only this time she hangs her head down in sorrow. 

Gathering what could be classified as a humongous bouquet, you make your way to the palace, even though you know you’ll probably be sent away again. Having succeeded in finally getting them to at least take the bouquet, you can only hope it reaches the emperor. Usually you just give him a nice bouquet full of roses that grow right in your garden at home with a nice little card attached reminding him to eat and get enough fluids, things like that, but this time after seeing the emperor you know he needs more than just roses. You gathered up and put together a bouquet full of beautiful red roses, gladiolus colored a light pale peach, white poppies, and a bunch of basil sprinkled throughout the bouquet. 

Each flower carries a significant meaning with it that you want to give to the emperor and even if none of your other bouquets got to him, you really wish this one will. Sitting down, you prepare to write the note that you would leave this time. 

It’s me again, Your Highness. I saw you today when you went down to town, and you looked really tired despite the smile you put on your face for us. I do hope you are getting enough sleep while also keeping yourself fed and hydrated, otherwise if you get sick, who will lead us as well as you do? 

As you can see, I gave you a little something different than the usual roses. Considering that you’re a busy person, I’ll assume that you don’t know these flowers or their meanings so allow me to tell you. 

The red flowers are obviously the roses I have been giving you for the last year or so. The pink looking flowers are called Gladiolus and they symbolize strength and get their name from gladiators who fight with strength and honor. The white flowers are called White poppies; they symbolize peace and the remembrance of war. They got that meaning because they are usually the flowers that grow atop fallen soldiers' bodies after war. Finally the little green leaves sprinkled throughout the bouquet are called Basil; although usually used in food, they are also thought to bring peace while warding off negative spirits, symbolizing good wishes, wealth, and a happy home. 

Now that you know their meaning, I hope you can understand why I gifted these to you. Till next time Your Highness. 

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

Closing the folded piece of paper, Taeyong lets out a breath before looking at the beautiful bouquet in his hands. He was surprised that someone took so much notice and cared so greatly about him and his well-being to do something like this. With a light heart and a small flustered grin, he places the card back in the bouquet, setting the flowers in a vase atop the vanity in his room, somewhere where he is sure he will get to see the flowers everyday. 

Back to normal again this week, Your Highness. I do hope that you were able to receive last week's bouquet, but I know there’s a good chance you did not, just like you will not this week. Do not ask why I continue to deliver these bouquets even though I know that you have not gotten a single one. It is too much to explain over a single note. I hope you have eaten well and stayed hydrated throughout this week. I also hope you have been sleeping well. If not, one way I find that helps is lavender oil. You could take it orally or drink some lavender tea before bed. You could even keep lavender in your room to infuse the area with its scent. 

That’s it for this week, Your Highness. Till next time

Closing the note from this week, Taeyong places it back inside of the bouquet, setting it down on his vanity. “Doyoung!” When you delivered today’s bouquet, Taeyong had made specific orders to ensure that it got to him this time. “Could you fetch me some lavender?” 

So after the first time, every week Taeyong couldn’t help but find himself lying in wait anxiously just to get your bouquet and read the sweet little notes you left in them. He had made sure to keep every single letter. His room was so full of roses that he had to start placing them all over the palace, but not without making sure to get the little note always cuddled inside. Not only that, he even started to smell like roses and he couldn’t be happier. He soon found himself relying on the little notes left in the bouquets’ to get himself through the week. Even if it was the simplest message just telling him to make sure to eat, drink, and sleep properly it still means the world to him.

 He would get so excited for the bouquets that he had even started to make his way down to the palace entrance when he knew you were coming. Doyoung would compare it to a dog waiting on their owner to get home. He swore one of these days he was going to stop being a scaredy cat and go out and accept the bouquet himself, but until that day came he would remain behind the palace doors. 

The resounding gong of the grandfather clock echoed throughout the room, alerting Taeyong of the new hour. It’s not like he didn’t already know, though. “It’s 4 o’clock, I have thirty minutes till my roses come.” Signing the last of the documents, stacking them on top of his desk, Taeyong stands, stretching his lithe body in order to get rid of the stiffness in his joints. Walking around his desk, Taeyong makes his way through the door.

A monotone voice laced with sarcasm breaks the silence, scaring Taeyong. “I guess it’s time for your one-sided weekly date. Or is it one-sided since one brings gifts while the other just watches like a creepy stalker?” Doyoung questions, leaning against the wall next to the entrance whilst raising his eyebrow.

“N-no! I mean, yes, it is close to time for the delivery, but it’s not a date.” A light blush covers Taeyong’s cheeks as the word ‘date’ falls from his lips. “I was just leaving to go around the palace and see how everything is going, checking and making sure things are happening the way they should–y’know, kingly duties.”

Turning to face the obviously flustered king, Doyoung gives him a deadpan expression that screams mmhm sure. “All I got from that was that you admit to being a creepy stalker.” Taeyong’s mouth flies open, unable to give a coherent response. “Oops, look at the time! You should probably start making your rounds,” he says, walking out of the room, the sound of Taeyong’s incoherent ramblings drowning out as he walks away. 

Sobering up from his conversation with Doyoung, he makes his rounds around the castle, steadily making his way to the entrance, keeping his eyes on the time. By the time he makes it to the entrance, he can see the girl making her way up the palace stairs, still a little dot in the distance. He can’t help but notice the way his hands begin to feel clammy and his heart rate slowly picking up as your face comes into view. 

He remembers the first time he came down and was finally able to see your face clearly. He swears it was as if the world stopped. You looked more beautiful than any bouquet he has received from you. He was so flustered that he couldn’t help but to blush every time he thought of you. He knows because Doyoung wouldn’t shut up about the magenta red that spread along his cheeks at random times that day. 

He was so focused on looking at you that he didn’t realize the rushed way in which you gave the guard the bouquet. All he knew was that one second he was staring at your face and the next your back as you lightly jogged away. Slight disappointment settles in his stomach as he realizes you didn’t even attempt to convince the guard to give the bouquet to him this time. 

The guard walks over, handing the bouquet to the waiting king, not wanting to be gone from her post too long; she quickly turns around, moving to head back before the voice of the emperor stops her. “Wait!” Taeyong notices the tension in her body at the sound of his voice, “Yes, your highness?” she asks, voice shaking slightly. 

“Where is the note?” 

Turning back around, she faces the emperor. “What note, sir?” 

“The note. The one that’s always in her bouquets.” Taeyong notices his voice came out sharper than he intended when he sees the guard flinch slightly. “I apologize; I didn't mean for that to come out so harshly. I just—there’s always a note that comes with her bouquets and-and there’s not one in here.”

“Ah, I don’t believe there was one in there, Your Highness. At least, I didn’t see one when she handed it to me.” Upon seeing the crestfallen look that sits on the emperor's face, the guard instantly offers to check and see if it had fallen off somewhere. 

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Taeyong replies, “No you’re fine–it’s fine if you didn’t see it when she handed it to you then it must not have been there in the first place.” Taeyong can hear how disheartened his voice was. Deciding it’s time to go inside, he sends the guard off to go do what they were doing beforehand.

“Hey Tae, how was the–What’s wrong?” Doyoung instantly notices the somber expression placed upon the emperor’s face. “You usually are about ready to jump off of the walls and now you look like the baker just ran out of those sweet potato cubes you get when we go into town.”

“It’s nothing.”

Grabbing Taeyong’s shoulder, Doyoung turns him around so they’re face to face, “That girl didn’t say anything mean in that note she leaves in the bouquets did she? Cause if she did, so help me god- no so help her I will-.”

“Calm down, she didn’t say anything mean. She didn’t say anything at all. There was no note in the bouquet this time.” 

“Oh. Uhh well, at least she still delivered the roses. Maybe something happened and she didn’t have time to write the letter,” Doyoung tries to reason, hoping he would be able to say something that would lift his friend’s spirit. Taeyong could tell Doyoung was trying his best to be supportive but there is nothing he could say right now that could make him feel any better.

“Y-yeah, maybe.” Not wanting to think about it anymore, Taeyong leaves for his room with a wave. At least he finished all of his paperwork for the day and he can just lay in bed.  

Taeyong finds himself walking through a field filled with flowers without an end in sight. It’s not until he sees the outline of a person sitting in the field that he starts to speed up, hoping he could ask the stranger where he was at. 

As he gets closer, the person begins to seem more and more familiar. It has him thinking, trying to figure out who it could be. As if the person hears him they turn around and he’s surprised to see you sitting in the field. 

“Hello Taeyong.” 

“Ahh hi.” Taeyong can feel his heart rate pick up almost as if it’s trying to jump out of his chest.

“Would you like to sit with me? The bloom is absolutely beautiful today.” Replying with a stiff nod, the usually confident emperor shyly takes a seat in the field of white flowers. Giving the seemingly flustered male a soft smile you pluck one of the flowers out of the field, lifting it up to your nose smelling the fragrant plant. 

“Smells heavenly. Would you like to take a sniff?” you ask, taking the flower away from under your nose, handing it to the male opposite you. 

Taeyong takes the small white flower out of your hand, lifting it to take a whiff. He immediately recoils as the putrid smell of rotting flesh infiltrates his senses, “Wha-” You snatch the flower away from his hand taking another whiff. 

“Smells great, doesn’t it? I love the smell of white poppies.” It’s then that Taeyong’s mind remembers the white flowers that were in the first bouquet that he received from you as well as the meaning of the flowers. Finally taking in his surroundings, Taeyong realises that it’s not just a field of flowers but a field of dead bodies. 

“Y’know Taeyong, I used to be sad thinking that I was going to have to go forever without ever getting to see these gorgeous flowers. But because of you and the war your family started, all of these dead bodies were able to sit here and grow some of the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.” By now you have picked up a whole bouquet worth of the poppies, little pieces of rotted flesh hanging off of the bottoms, “Too bad I had to die before I got to see them.” 

After hearing her last sentence Taeyong takes a good look at the girl, noticing that the white poppies she had collected were all from her body. “Y’know maybe you should die too so you can fully witness the beauty of these flowers,” you say with a slight tilt to not only your voice but your head. 

Before he can question it you’re already driving a spear through Taeyong’s heart. 

~

“Taeyong you look like absolute shit. Do you really think you should be going into town like that?” The bags under Taeyong’s eyes look bigger and heavier than the robe on his shoulders. It has been a week since you dropped off the bouquet without a note.  

“Yes, Doyoung. It’s been a month, we don’t want people to worry.” 

“Funny. You say you don’t want them to worry but you look like the living dead. They’ll worry either way.” The guard rebutts, crossing his arms sassily.

“Doie, I don’t have the time nor the energy to argue with you, just please can we go?” 

“That’s just it. You always have time and energy to argue with me! Taeyong, it’s been a week; it was just one note out of hundreds. Who knows; maybe she just forgot to put it in the bouquet, but regardless of what happened you can't keep moping around and carrying yourself like this. You’re an emperor, for pete’s sake! What will you do when she stops bringing the bouquets?”

Taeyong freezes. What will he do? He can't expect you to deliver bouquets forever, can he? At some point you’ll get tired of it, tired of him, and what will he do then? Standing straight, Taeyong makes his way out of the palace, head held impossibly high. 

“I- dammit Taeyong I didn’t mean it like-”

“No. You’re right, I can’t expect her to always bring the bouquets, that's selfish of me.” I can't always expect her to be here. It's selfish to expect her to be here. “Come on, we have people to see,” he says, climbing inside of the carriage.

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

Finally done unpacking your clothes from the last minute trip you had to take last week, you plop onto your bed, completely beat. One of the families you delivered medicine to ran out suddenly and you had to rush to their house so that their child did not die. You spent the rest of the week nursing the child back to health after they had to go without medicine.  

The thing is, you got the message in the middle of making the emperor’s bouquet for that week and you didn’t have the time to make a note to put in the bouquet. Even though you know that the emperor doesn’t receive the bouquets at all, you still felt the guilt sitting in the pit of your stomach that entire week. 

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you’re woken by a series of rushed knocks on your pharmacy door. Getting out of bed reluctantly, you grab your apron, tying it around your waist and walking to the door in order to go see who it is. 

“Chamomile Pharmacy, how may I–” you start opening the door until you get sight of the person on the other side and quickly slam the door back in place. Why was Emperor Taeyong at your door?!? And why did you just slam the door in his face? Reopening the door, you start bowing and apologizing to the seemingly starstruck emperor at once. “I-I am so sorry Your Highness, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s just you caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting it to be you behind the door,” you hurriedly attempt to explain until Taeyong is knocked out of the way by his royal guard Doyoung. 

“We don’t have time for this right now. You can have your little–whatever this is later. We need you to make more of this medicine for Mr. Young immediately. We showed up at his house right as he passed out and this was on his counter!”        

Grabbing the bottle, you realize this is the heart elixir you made him some time ago, “Shit! Okay I’ll be right back. I need to go grab something out of the garden first,” You quickly tell the men, writing at the speed of light on a piece of paper. “Here, while I’m getting that I need you two to look and find these in that cabinet over there. I need everything ready for when I get back so I can quickly get this to him.” 

Rushing out into the garden, you quickly sort through various plants until you find the two you’re looking for. You barge back into the pharmacy to see that Doyoung and the emperor got a little over half of the ingredients down. “Okay, even though everything isn’t down yet I’m going to go ahead and get started. One of you, continue to look for everything while the other comes over here and gives me a hand. We have to hurry.” You are so focused on getting the medicine done that you don’t even notice Taeyong handing you the supplies. 

Finishing up the elixir and gathering all of the utensils, you stuff them into your rucksack and run out of the door. “We rode horses over here, it’s faster than on foot. Hop on Taeyong’s; we have to go,” Doyoung all but commands as he mounts his horse, already taking off. The adrenaline pumping through your system helps to keep you calm about the fact that you now have your arms wrapped around Taeyong’s waist and are currently on a horse with him. 

In no time you’re riding up to Mr. Young's homely brick house, the one that he and his late wife built back when they were younger. Pushing your way into the house, you see the old man lying on a cot on the floor. Taking everything out, you lie it on a towel next to you on the floor and pull on a pair of gloves. 

Quickly checking the old man's pulse, you let out a breath in relief that it’s still there but very faint. You take a pair of medical scissors and cut his shirt open. Grabbing the bottle containing the green elixir and a needle syringe you urgently but carefully extract some of the liquid from the bottle. At this point the silence in the room is deafening, but you’re only able to hear the white noise buzzing in your ears, blocking out any and all distractions. 

You check and make sure that it’s the right amount before giving the syringe a slight squeeze, pushing a few drops of the liquid out of the needle. Taking a deep breath, you harshly stab the needle into the man’s chest, forcing the liquid through the needle, unknowingly garnering stiff gasps from those who are watching. You immediately retract the syringe only to place your hand on the same spot, firmly yet softly massaging it. 

After massaging for a couple of minutes you sit back, bated breaths falling from your lips. “You can take him to his room now, he needs to rest. I’ll go make some tea for everyone.” Gathering your supplies, you take them to the kitchen to disinfect and sterilize them. Behind the doors of the kitchen you finally feel yourself calm down and it’s then that you notice the intense way in which your hands are shaking.   

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

Everything was going fine, and he was almost done making his rounds with everyone. One of the last people he had to meet with was Mr. Young, the sweet old man who always made him help pick things out of his garden, and that’s when the day took a turn. Was it for the worse? Taeyong didn’t know yet. Walking in on the man passed out on the floor shook Taeyong to his core. When he and Doyoung finally noticed the empty bottle on the countertop, they read the label which stated the pharmacy where the medicine was from. 

From there, they took two of the guard’s horses and were off to find the pharmacy. It’s there that Taeyong found you, though the circumstances were less than great. He still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him, but the moment was over after Doyoung realized what was happening. Now that everything had calmed down and Mr. Young was okay, the fact that you were just a few steps away in the kitchen was eating at the emperor. 

“I don’t get why you just don’t go in there and talk to her.” Doyoung spoke suddenly, sounding bored with his life after noticing the way in which the king fidgeted in his chair, eyes constantly flitting to look back and forth from the kitchen door to his feet. 

“I mean, it’s not like she can do anything; you’re an emperor for god’s sake. Unless you want to continue being a creepy stalker, I suggest you go in there and tell her that you’ve been receiving her bouquets and you like them or some shit like that.” 

“I-I can’t just barge in there and–”

“He only had jasmine tea in his cabinets, so I hope there’s nothing wrong with that,” you say, walking into the living room with a tray of tea-filled cups in your hands. 

“Jasmine is fine,” Doyoung replied, simultaneously leaning down to pick up his cup. Taeyong suddenly couldn’t speak as you looked at him expectantly, wanting to make sure he was okay with jasmine tea. All he could do was look up at your glowing face with eyes that might as well be in the shape of hearts. “Ah jasmine is good for him as well. Forgive my liege, he's still a little shaken up from the situation.” 

With a soft nod you turn around, moving to make your way back into the kitchen. It was then that Taeyong’s mouth and mind decided to move as one. “Wait! Where are you going?”  

“Oh, uhm, I was going back to the kitchen. I figured you two would want to be alone,” you say, almost cradling the board to your body, gesturing awkwardly towards the door. 

“You don’t have to.  Why don’t you sit in here, with us?” 

“I mean, if you’re fine with that.”

“I’m fine, I’m more than fine.” The words were out of Taeyong’s mouth before he could even process them fully. You move to sit on the other side of the loveseat beside Taeyong. 

The sound of purposeful slurping provided by Doyoung barely sufficed at cutting the tension in the room. “I just remembered, we never seemed to have gotten your name?” Doyoung asked, ending the silence that layered the house. 

Quickly swallowing the tea in your mouth, you reply “Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me, my name is Y/n. I’m the owner of Chamomile Pharmacy.” You add a bright smile at the end.

“Owner, huh? You must really like medicine.”  

“Hmm, I guess you could say that, but not really. I mainly just like flowers, and growing up I realized all the medicinal benefits they hold, so I figured why not make money and spend my life surrounded by what I love?” You sit back in the seat, seemingly comfortable now that you’re talking about a passion. “I get to help people while surrounded by plants all day; it’s a win-win.” 

“Mmhm, that sounds lovely. Oh, Taeyong.” The king’s head practically snaps up at the mention of his name. Spotting the mischievous look in his best friend's eyes, his stomach practically dropped to the floor. “You love flowers as well, specifically roses. Don’t you, Your Highness?” 

“I–”

“Yeah, I distinctly remember your love for roses starting after receiving a bouquet full of them every week.” Doyoung had no idea that this was the flower girl at first, but Taeyong could tell by the way he had been acting ever since you came around that he had come to piece it together–especially after you blatantly declared your love for flowers just a few mere seconds ago. 

At his words, your mouth fell open in pure unadulterated shock. The emperor had been receiving your bouquets?! And he liked them? You had no idea how to feel with all of the mixed emotions flowing through you. 

Wide eyed, you ask, “You’ve been receiving my bouquets, Your Highness?” 

Taeyong is flustered when he replies, “Y-Yes I have, they are very… nice. Thank you for them.”

“He really likes the little love notes you put in them,” Doyoung adds, deliberately putting the word love in front of notes. At his words, Taeyong throws the harshest glare he could at the other man, wishing he could strangle him with his eyes alone. 

While Taeyong was glaring daggers at the knight, you couldn’t help but feel sheepish. You thought you were giving those flowers away for nothing, only to realize that the emperor had been getting them and he liked them. Then you remembered that you had forgotten the note in your last one. 

“Ah, I just remembered that I forgot to put a note in the last one.” You speak bashfully, lowering your head. “Well, I didn’t forget, per say, I just didn’t have the time–an emergency came up while I was making it and I had to hurry. I didn’t think it would matter that much since you weren’t getting them, but now I know you were, so I feel bad.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. There’s no need for you to feel bad, things happen.” Taeyong finally speaks, not liking the obvious way in which you blame yourself. Standing up, he motions to a door, stating that he has to use the restroom.

The room sits silent at Taeyong’s absence. You still feel guilty, but before you can think too hard about it, Doyoung shocks you out of your thoughts with a  question, “Y/n, why do you always give roses?”

“Hm? Oh, why roses? Well that's easy, because he’s The Rose Emperor .” Doyoung lifts an eyebrow in question. “Ah, I forgot that I’m the only one who calls him that,” you explain quickly. “Well, one of the reasons is because he has this beautiful rose-shaped scar right under his right eye. And I mean, he’s like a rose. Pretty and elegant and practically harmless to the unsuspecting eye, but he has thorns, which he uses to keep people away, thorns he uses to hide things from everyone, even those closest…”You trail off for a moment, thinking. “Hmm, if you think about it that way, wouldn’t that mean we're all like roses?” You speak nonchalantly, looking somewhat deeply into your cup of tea. “So that would make this world a bed of roses, wouldn’t it?” 

Standing but a few feet away, hiding behind a wall, the man in question couldn’t help but overhear. The way you talked and the words you used to describe him made his heart pound. You sounded so sweet and genuine, and he couldn’t help but believe every word you said. His hand uncontrollably caresses the scar you mentioned. He never noticed that it looked like a rose. 

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

“Doyoung, I need to borrow some of your clothes.” Busting into the guard’s room, the emperor pants quickly, garnering the man’s attention. 

“Wha–for what?”

“No questions, I just need them,” the young ruler says, walking into the man's wardrobe. “Oh and if you have a hat and mask, I’m going to take those, too.”

Taeyong’s presence in the shop is known as soon as he walks through the door, a bell ringing upon contact. Hurriedly pretending to scan the shelves as if searching extremely hard for something, Taeyong hears you enter the room through the back door moments later. 

“Sorry for not greeting you as soon as you came in. I was doing a little gardening in the back. Is there anything I can help you with today?” you ask, simultaneously washing the slight dirt off of your hands at the sink.

Knowing it would be rude to not acknowledge you, Taeyong turns to face you, self-consciously tugging on the mask resting on his face, not knowing if he wants you to know it’s him or not. You walk over after drying your hands, ready to help the customer, finally getting a good look at the man’s mask-covered face. You freeze in your spot, not knowing if you are just delusional or if Emperor Taeyong is actually standing in the middle of your pharmacy. 

“Uhh Your Highness..?” you question slowly, giving the stranger room to deny if needed. 

“I–uhmm yes,” Taeyong stutters, taking the mask off of his face, revealing his apparently not-so-secret identity. Despite breathing just fine a few seconds ago, Taeyong seems to not be able to when you give him a dazzling smile. You ask him why he’s here and if he needs anything. “Yes, I’m here because I, uhh, need something to help with… headaches! Yes, I get headaches, y’know, from reading papers all day.”

“I have just the thing to help with that! I get headaches myself, and I find that the plant Feverfew helps a good bit. The plant itself can be a little strong and could cause irritation to the mouth if chewed, so I just grind it up and make a nice little diluted concoction with it, and it does wonders,” you say, grabbing the bottle containing the liquid, placing it on the counter, and making your way to the other side so you could bag the medicine.

“I must warn you, though–it can have very light side effects that can cause nausea, digestive problems, and bloating.” Finishing up you place the now bagged medicine on the counter sliding it over to Taeyong. 

“Ah, how much do I owe?” 

“Nonsense, you’re good, consider it the Monarch's discount.” Thanking you, the emperor grabs the bag, making his way out the door, “Bye, come again.” 

After the first time, Taeyong continued to visit the store, each time for a different reason. He stayed a little longer each time he visited, finding himself wanting to indulge in your presence more and more. Even when you would go to the palace to deliver your weekly bouquets he would come out now just to start a conversation with you. You both would end up just sitting on the palace steps talking for hours on end. 

Now was one of the times when you would sit outside the palace talking with the king.  

“Your Highness, word was just sent in from the WayV kingdom, and there are forms to be signed urgently.” Doyoung addressed the young emperor, throwing an apologetic look at you for ruining your time together. 

A breath falls past your lips as you push yourself up. “Oh well, I guess that’s my cue to leave. See you later, Your High-” 

“Wait. Why don’t you come inside with me? This shouldn’t take too long.” 

You and Doyoung gape at the emperor, both in shock. Wanting to hurry and get things settled, Taeyong passes both of your almost statuesque bodies. Doyoung offers to show you around while Taeyong does his work but the emperor quickly refuses. “I’ll do it when I finish.”

Grabbing your wrist, Taeyong all but drags you to his office. There are so many twists and turns that you have no idea how Taeyong didn’t get lost. “You can sit over there on the couch in the foyer. I have some books on the shelf over there you can read if you want. I'll be right here behind this desk.”  

Taking in the extravagant office, you can’t help but notice how roses cover almost every single open surface possible. He really did keep every rose he got from you. Just that thought alone makes your heart pound so hard that you can hear it beating in your ears. Deciding you should do something before you look weird, you walk over to the shelf, surveying the books available to you. 

You pick a book that looks good enough and sit down on the couch.You try to focus on the words in front of you, but the room is warm, and the couch is comfortable, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. You didn’t realize you fell asleep until you felt Taeyong gently shaking you awake. The sun had started to set, casting a beautiful warm golden glow around the room. 

 Taeyong sat beside you on the couch, still grasping your shoulder as you both stared intensely at each other. You felt yourself slowly leaning towards the beautiful man, almost as if you were in a trance. Taeyong couldn’t help but take in every gorgeous feature on your face as it was surrounded by a golden halo.

Moving his hands from your shoulder to the nape of your neck he pulls you in, no longer able to hide the attraction he has for you. Your lips mingled in a dance only privy to them. Leaving the one on your neck the other moves to the side of your face, Taeyong positions you just how he wants and you couldn’t help but to give in to him.  

It was as if his entire being consumed you and you had no choice but to follow his lead. Removing his mouth from yours he steadily transitions his lips lower splaying damp kisses all around your jugular. “Y-your highness, m-maybe we should stop.”

“Call me Taeyong darling and I don’t want to stop if you don’t.” he says, eyes flitting up to look at yours. “Do you want to stop?”

Feeling a fire burning in your stomach setting your lower regions ablaze, you know you can’t give him anything but the truth, “No, I don’t want to stop Taeyong.” Taeyong’s satisfied hum rumbles against your collarbone, “That’s my girl.” 

His lips find their way back to yours, an involuntary moan falling from yours as Taeyong pushes his tongue inside your mouth. He takes his time exploring your mouth as if he wanted to get acquainted with every nook and cranny. When he took his lips away this time it was as if he took your soul right with him. A small discontent whine leaves your mouth causing the male to coo, “Aww look at my precious rose, so needy already.”

He plants a small peck on your lips pushing you to lay back on the couch, “May I remove your pants darling?” Giving him a small head nod he starts to lower himself down to your now wet core. Your underwear comes off right along with your pants and the slightly cool air hitting your hot core feels almost heavenly. 

Lifting your legs on top of his shoulders Taeyong plants soft kisses along your pelvic region finally deciding to stop teasing he licks a long slow stripe up your wet pussy making sure to give a little more pressure right onto your clit. 

Taeyong’s hands move to sit in the crevice of your pelvis, tightening his grip simultaneously bringing you closer to his mouth as he proceeds to contort his tongue between your soft lips as a pianist moves their fingers across the keys aiming to hit the right notes to make you sing.

Your voice cracks almost violently as endless moans drip from your lips like sap out a tree. Eyes sealed shut you can’t help but to see stars as Taeyong makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. His soft hair rests between your fingers latching onto the strands for dear life as you attempt to somehow ground yourself. 

If he wasn’t holding you down you know for a fact that you would be humping his face akin to a dog in heat. “Fuck.” he moans between your legs sending vibrations all the way down your body. Suckling your lips between his as he looks up at your face scrunched in pleasure, “Open your eyes baby, look at me.” 

You should not have had as much trouble as you did opening your eyes but after a few seconds you finally were able to do so. “I want you to focus on me baby, watch me eat this succulent pussy of yours until you cum.” One of his hands moves, transitioning to start rubbing your clit applying ample pressure. 

His tongue starts to prod at the opening to the place in which you seemed to want him the most right now. The combination of his mouth and hands was too much and you felt your legs start shaking as you alerted Taeyong of your oncoming orgasm. “That’s it baby, cum for me. I want to see it.” 

You didn’t even know your voice could go as high as it did in that moment. Your labored breaths were halted as Taeyong pressed his wet lips to yours causing you to taste yourself on his lips. “You still up for that tour?”

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

“Your Highness, there have been reports of an outbreak of some sorts. For right now it’s small but we have no idea what it is or where it came from.” Doyoung says, ending his report on current events. 

“Okay, since this is something we have no prior dealings with we need to tread carefully. Get everyone who might be infected and make sure they’re getting proper care. Talk to them, see what their symptoms are and ask what they were doing before they got sick. Maybe we can try and piece together how you contract it.”  

“Should we alert the public, Your Highness?” 

“No, not for now at least. This is still manageable. We don't want to scare everyone for no reason.” Finishing up his duties, Taeyong starts to head to your house. 

You had yet to talk to Taeyong about what happened that day despite having seen each other multiple times since then. Not like you regretted it or anything you just felt bad about Taeyong servicing you and you not being able to return the favor. You were interrupted in the middle of your naughty thoughts when you heard soft knocks ring against the door not to the pharmacy but to your house placed on the side of the pharmacy. 

Answering the door you only expected to see one person on the other side of the door. “Hi Taeyong.” you breathe softly gazing at the male opposite you. 

“Hello my rose.” placing a kiss on his lips you let him enter the room. Taeyong pulls two books out from his bag and you hurriedly rush over to where Taeyong sits on your bed grabbing your book as Taeyong pulls you onto his lap. Reading for a while your mind can’t help but to go back to what happened. 

Taeyong can feel the air in the room change as you squirm on his lap. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” 

“Uhh nothing Yongie.” 

Grabbing a hold of your waist Taeyong lowers his head to your ear, “It doesn’t feel like nothing darling.” His warm breath hits your ears as he slowly lets his tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the shell of your ear. 

“I- just want to pleasure you as well. Last time you only focused on me and I want to return the favor.” you speak turning around in the male’s lap legs wrapping around his waist. You bring the male into a feverous/feverish? Kiss. You hear his breath hitch as you slowly grind down onto his semi hard dick, and you feel the grip he has on your waist tighten. 

Moving yourself to Taeyong’s thigh instead of his entire lap. You maneuver his pants off leaving his boxers on. You slip your hand between your bodies reaching for Taeyong’s boxer clad cock. Lightly squeezing while massaging his length you lean forward gingerly planting kisses along his neck swirling your tongue on each spot you kiss. 

“Shit Y/n.”

“You want me to take it out, Yongie? Do you want me to wrap my hands around your hard dick and rub you till you cum all over my hands.” you tease applying more pressure to his hard appendage, “Hmm maybe I’ll even let you watch me lick your cum off of my hands.” 

“Oh Fuck yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound like begging to me baby.” 

“Hmm please baby, please take it out and make me cum.”

You grin, squeezing his now fully hard cock harder, “Well since you asked so nicely.”  Your hand moves to the band of his boxers removing the clothing. His erect penis pops up, slapping the male’s clothed abdomen after finally being released.

You let a few drops of spit fall onto the palm of your hand before giving Taeyong what he wants, gripping him. You slowly start to work your hand up and down his stiff cock fluctuating the strength you use to grip it.

“How does that feel Tae? Are you enjoying yourself sweetheart?” you whisper in his ear speeding up your ministrations. A broken moan falls from the semi pouted lips of the emperor. The feel of your hand gripping his cock felt like heaven he could barely think. 

The slick sound of your hand going up and down his dick was all that could be heard throughout the room. Taking your other hand you begin to not only stroke his length but also fondle his balls. “Ah, Y/n I’m not going to last much longer please make me cum.” Wanting to give him what he wanted you run the pad of your thumb along the underside of him and slowly massage the bundle of nerves just under the head. 

As soon as you do, a whimper leaves Taeyong’s lips as his head falls forward resting on your shoulder. His mouth starts sucking on any pieces of exposed skin he can find and you feel him mumble against your shoulder, “I’m cumming.” His warm release falls onto your hands covering them as you try to squeeze out every last drop. Raising your hand to your mouth you lick some of the cum off of your hand tasting him. 

“Fuck sweetie you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Taeyong. It’s gotten worse. The illness has started spreading; our attempt at keeping it contained was a failure. While it did slow the spread, it did nothing to stop it.”

Slamming his hand on the desk Taeyong couldn’t help but to curse, “Fuck! Did you at least figure out how it’s contracted and its symptoms?” 

“Yes, after questioning the patients it became pretty clear that it wasn’t contracted in any specific way. Almost all have reports of having been in public settings surrounded by a lot of people and said a few days later they caught a pretty nasty cold. Instead of it going away like a normal cold does, it started to get worse, pretty soon they couldn't move at all, not even lift a finger. After developing hot flashes, they start to lose the ability to speak, and you know they are about to die when they start to have rashes appear upon their skin.” 

“Have you asked the doctors if they can find a cure?” 

“Yes, we have already put them onto it, but for now there is nothing.”

Thinking about what he should do, Taeyong's hand comes up to scratch his jawline. He knows that he has to alert the public of the outbreak now. “Okay, since there is no discernible way in which they get it, we can assume for now that it is passed from excessive human contact. Doyoung, I need you to release a statement stating that there should be no excessive contact between everyone. If able to avoid big crowds then stay away.” 

Writing the commands down in a notebook, Doyoung asks, “Anything else?” 

“Yes, since it has gotten a lot bigger now, the public must be alerted, even though by now I am sure they have each heard their own variations of what’s happening. It’s better to tell them the truth than lie. We need everyone to be fully informed with correct information so that they don’t make things worse.” A tired sigh falls from his lips, “Release a doctor’s statement. I want the royal doctor to make a statement that will tell the public all they need to know about this new illness so they can protect themselves.”

“On it, Your Highness.” Doyoung says, turning around and quickly heading out the door. You were supposed to come visit Taeyong today. He's glad he gets to see you. You always make things better for him. You walk into Taeyong’s office to him writing something in a notebook. He was so involved in what he was writing that he didn’t hear you come in.  

“Hey Yongie.” Walking over to the male, you see him raise his head from the paper, looking at you with a dazzling smile. 

“Hello, beautiful.” Taeyong pulls you into his lap, “How was your day, my rose?” You start rambling on about what was going on at the pharmacy, and Taeyong finds himself zoning out looking at you talking animatedly about a customer you had today. It’s times like these where Taeyong realizes he could never live his life without you. 

Taeyong has been really busy lately, dealing with the disease outbreak. You guys have hardly seen each other. New word had been put out about the disease after one of the people who are believed to have gotten it first were found. Sadly they were on their last string, but their family said something about them eating a strange fruit some odd days before they had gotten sick. 

Business for you has practically skyrocketed, people hurrying to get all types of medicines just out of plain fear that they might contract the disease. Even though there is no cure yet, they still think that arthritis medicine will somehow help them. 

You had secretly been working on your own attempt at creating a cure, wanting to help Taeyong and get some of the pressure off of his shoulders and wanting to help the people affected by this disease. Of course it has gotten nowhere, but at least you try. 

You had asked Taeyong what the fruit that their family said they ate looked like in hopes of being able to find it and base an antidote off of that. He gave you the same description they gave him, but it didn’t lead anywhere. Noticing how empty the pharmacy had become, you felt it was the perfect time to go pick up some bread. 

Flipping the sign and locking the door you head towards the bakery. Ever since the decree had been made for people to not group together, the streets had been the emptiest you had ever seen. Walking in, you couldn’t help but notice the other people that stood around talking waiting on their baked goods. Putting in your order, you stand off to the side. 

“You know, they say that Emperor Taeyong has caught the disease.”

“What?! You can’t be serious.” 

“Why would I joke about something like that?” the first lady says, looking well over offended. “I have a friend who has a cousin who has a brother who has a boyfriend that works in the palace.” 

“Woah, so you basically know the emperor.” 

“Exactly. I swear on it, the emperor has the disease.” You proceed to tune out the gossiping women on the other side of the room. You know that there’s a good chance the lady is lying, but what if Taeyong has the disease? He hasn’t come to visit in a few days. You feel your chest constrict at the mere thought. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t hear the baker telling you your order is ready until after she walks up to you and hands you your bread. “Oh, uhh thank you.” Giving the lady a small nod, you walk out of the bakery.

When you get back to the house, you check for mail and find some in the mailbox next to your door. Picking it up, you notice the royal insignia on the envelope. Figuring it’s from Taeyong, you instantly start to tear it open.

Hello my rose, I don’t know how to say this to you, but I’m sick, really sick. I got the disease. I’m so sorry darling. Worst of all is I can’t even see you. I absolutely forbid you from coming here. Do you hear me? From now until we meet again, we can communicate by letter. I love you so much, my rose. 

Love, Your Yongie

As your mind slowly starts to register the note, your knees instantly give out, bringing you to the floor of your living room. You can barely register the sting from the impact. You couldn’t help but let out a broken gut-wrenching cry. Your tears feel like fire as they run down your face. You clutch your heart; it’s as if you can feel it breaking. 

Everyday Taeyong sends you a letter and everyday you put it in the pile with the others. It broke your heart every time you would put the letters unopened together with the others and never wrote a response back, but recently you had thrown your entire being into finding a cure for the disease. You couldn’t risk another breakdown like when you first found out, because every single second matters. 

Every second you spend trying to find a cure brings you closer to a forever with Taeyong, and you couldn’t risk that. You still open and run the pharmacy like normal, but even then you spend all of your time asking customers everything they know about the disease and whatever anyone they knew who had it was going through. 

Lately, the way you’ve been going at it was to find the fruit that supposedly started it all and find out why the human body reacts so badly to it. You just managed to find it yesterday while you were out in the forest for the third time hunting for it. You were planning to do some tests and see what you possibly can do. 

A series of harsh knocks rain upon the pharmacy door and the irritation at the possible customer shows on your face. “I’m sorry but we’re clo–” Your sentence stops abruptly as Doyoung harshly shoves past you, the anger and tension in his body evident.

“You know, you have some fucking nerve. Taeyong is literally dying right now, he is fucking dying yet he still manages to write you everyday. And on days when he can’t muster the strength he gets someone to write what he says.” Whipping his body around he faces you, face scrunched in a horrendous snarl, “And you can’t even take the time to write a fucking letter back. All you do is sit in this pharmacy and play in your stupid garden all day.”

It’s then that he notices the pile of letters sitting neatly on your desk, a scoff pushes its way past his lips, “Oh my fucking god, you didn’t have the decency to even open them. Have you ever even loved him? Tell me. Honestly.” He stares directly into your eyes, the fire in them seemingly endless. “Or was he just some toy? A part in some plan you had to get rich and become an empress or some shit. Did you just use my best friend for your own selfish reasons?” 

Your mouth opens, preparing to say something only for it to close again. Repeating that process multiple times you find out that there were no words you could say that would satisfy him. “And it’s funny because if that was your plan, then it worked. I know you don’t know but Taeyong planned to propose, he wanted–no, wants to spend the rest of his life with you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but oh well.” At his statement, your mouth falls open again, leaving you utterly speechless. 

A moment of silence passes and a heavy sigh from the male fills the air. He stares tiredly at your desk, exasperated. “He’s dying, simple as that. Doctor says he doesn’t have much longer before the rashes start popping up. His estimate was at most two weeks.” With his face angled away from you, the tears that streamed down his face weren’t visible. “Do what you will with that information. I don’t have the time for this.” 

Turning his body, Doyoung walks out the door, leaving a chill in the air. You don’t even have it in you to cry. Your sorrow runs farther than any river in the world, yet the thought that kept you from breaking down was Taeyong’s smile. Then you realized you would never be able to see it again if there was no cure. Swiping  away the tears that managed to fall, you get back to work. Taeyong wasn’t going to die on your watch. 

Your chest felt so tight, like it was squeezing all of the air out of your lungs. You could barely feel the shock of your heavy footfalls on the pavement as you ran like your life depended on it. The steps to the palace have never seemed longer as you ran, hoping you made it in time. Passing guards all were blurs as you swore you were running at the speed of light. 

Making your way to Taeyong’s room, you see a distraught Doyoung crouched outside of the door. His silent cries cued your heart to fall to your aching feet. Barely able to get the words out you ask, “Am I too late, is-is he g-gone?” Your voice broke as you spoke those words. Doyoung doesn’t say anything as he silently raises his head to look at you. “I can’t be late. I-I found it, I found the cure. I have the cure to save Taeyong.” 

Not able to withstand Doyoung’s gaze, you burst through the king’s bedroom doors, instantly spotting the palace doctor at his bed. Taeyong lays lifelessly on the bed, chest barely managing to move up and down. This was not the Taeyong you knew, not the man you fell in love with. This man was just but a shell of him. You had never seen his skin so pale, his face sunken in to the point where you can easily see his cheekbones you loved to rain kisses on. 

“Doctor.” Your gaze shifts from the sleeping male to the doctor beside him, “He’s not… dead, is he?”

“No, not yet, but I do recommend you give your last goodbyes.” 

Walking up the man, you forcefully push the vial containing the cure into his hands, “Here, this is the cure.” Broken stutters leave the man's mouth as he questions the integrity of your statement. “Listen, we don’t have a lot of time; just trust that it will work. I have tested it on five different people, all of varying ages, and four out of five of those people survived. The only reason the fifth didn’t was because they were too far gone.” 

You update the doctor on what the antidote is and what it does. “The antidote is not a cure per say, it doesn’t get rid of the disease. I studied the fruit that the disease stems from and something in the DNA of it, let's just say it doesn't agree with something in our DNA, which causes basically an allergic reaction times 100. This antidote soothes the part of our DNA that reacts so badly, and that in turn stops the allergic reaction so that it doesn’t kill us. Now that I’ve wasted time explaining that to you, can we please get the antidote in his system?”

All of your talking caused the sickly emperor to awaken to your voice in the room with him. “Y/n, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to not come here. I-” 

“Taeyong, calm down, baby, please. I am here to save you.” You nod to the doctor giving him the go for the injection. “The doctor is about to inject the cure for the disease into you, then you’re going to get better for me, okay?”

After administering the shot, Taeyong had fallen asleep again from lack of energy. It had been 10 hours and you sat every single one on his bedside, wanting to be the first to see him. In those 10 hours, you told the doctor how to make more of the cure so that he could get it to everyone, and Doyoung finally came into the room after hearing what you had done, and gave you a proper apology for snapping at you. 

You feel a hand grip yours, and you snap your head up to see Taeyong looking back at you with a smile as big as he could conjure right now placed on his face. Quickly handing him some water, you start to question how he feels. Telling you he feels the best he has in weeks was good enough to satiate you for now. 

When Taeyong had finally convinced you to lay in bed with him, you chose this moment to give him his answer. 

“Yes.” A look of confusion covers Taeyong’s face as he wonders what you are saying yes to. “Yes, I will marry you.”  

You and Taeyong decided not to have a huge wedding, instead choosing to hold a ceremony with just a few of your closest friends, but you did have to present yourself to the empire now as the new empress.

“Are you ready, my rose?” Taeyong asks, walking up behind you in front of the mirror, enclosing his arms around your waist. You turn around to look at him directly, taking in his attire. 

“Why do you have such a heavy robe?” you question, noticing the heavy piece of clothing. You’d always wondered that whenever you would see him out of the palace. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Taeyong plants a kiss upon your cheek, “I-I don’t know it’s just customary, I never thought to change it.”

“Well, for my first decree as empress, I declare that you get a new robe, a lighter one.” you say, dusting the imaginary dust off of his shoulders. “You don’t need to have such a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can tell it weighs you down. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Will do, my empress. Come, we have to go now.” 

It was getting to the last leg of the parade the citizens held in your honor. You felt so welcome by everyone. You were expecting people to hate you because you weren’t already a royal before you married Taeyong. “How are you holding up, darling? I know these things can take a lot out of people.”

“I am fine, my love, just slightly tired.” You can’t help but wave at every person you see, feeding off of their enthusiasm. Overcome with emotion, Taeyong can’t help it when he cradles your face in his hands, lowering his head whilst tilting yours to give him room, and plants a loving kiss upon your cheek. Your cheeks were on fire at his public display of affection in front of everyone, yet you found yourself fully indulging in the kiss, closing your eyes in hopes of savoring the moment. The kiss caused an uproar within the crowd, the citizens ecstatic at the relationship between you both. 

“Taeyong, what was that earlier today? Why’d you kiss me?” 

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it when I saw you and how happy you looked waving at everyone,” he explains pulling you into another kiss, but this time on the lips. Slowly the kiss becomes heated and you start pawing at each other's clothes, almost ripping them off. Taeyong plants kisses along your neck as you begin to fondle his soft manhood. 

You feel Taeyong’s hand slide to your cunt rubbing your clit, “Looks like someones already ready for me. I wonder who made you this wet sweetie.” he taunts, slowly pressing one finger inside of you then a second curving them up and spreading them out in order to stretch your tight hole. Your low breathy moans fill the room bouncing off of each and every wall. 

Pretty soon you both are ready, blindly walking yourself to the bed you land on the soft cushion with an oomph. Taeyong slowly grinds his now hard cock up and down your slit puposely prodding at your clit. You wriggle your hips silently begging the male to hurry up and put it in. 

Giving into you because he was just as excited Taeyong finally slides himself in, his stiffness getting completely engulfed by your wet hot cavern. “Mmm, I’ll never get used to how well your needy pussy takes me in baby.” His slow thrusts simultaneously scratching that itch but just enough to make it come back for more.

“Harder Tae, I need to feel you wreck me.” Granting your wish taeyong stops the gentle loving strokes, swapping them out for a harsher more unforgiving thrusts. His hips smack yours as Taeyong puts what feels like all the power he has in his thrusts. You close your eyes and see stars as Taeyong fucks your soul out of you. His hands have an unforgiving grip on your waist, one going up to massage your breast, teasing your nipple.

Taeyong starts laying kisses along your body leaving purple spots in his wake. “ I want everyone to see that you are mine and I am yours forever and always.” Whispering in your ear, “Go ahead and cum for me baby, let everyone know what we’re doing so they can see who you belong to.” 

You all but scream Taeyong’s name out in pure ecstasy as you cum the hardest you ever have to date. It felt as if you had been transported to another world. Taeyong cums right behind you filling you to the brim with his seed. “It’s a little too late to say this now but I think it’s about time we start thinking about children.” He says pulling himself out of your now swollen lower region. 

“Oh my god shut up, I hate you,” you cry, out rolling your eyes

“I love you too, my rose.” 

[starbornsinger]

Nepenthe

Azriel x Gwyn one-shot (light angst, fluff)

Warning: ⚠️ ACOSF spoilers, mentions of abuse ⚠️

The day was not turning out as Azriel had originally anticipated. That much, at least, he had gathered. Now today wasn't like other unanticipated, unwelcome distractions. Those were the kinds he dreaded— days where he would return to the townhouse soaked in blood he wasn't sure belonged to him.

Those days haunted him on ones like this.

Yes, today was a different kind of unexpected. Rhysand had decidedly summoned him for lunch in his office, to discuss politics and prisoners and what color he and Feyre would paint the baby's room. It went in and out of Azriel's mind. Most things did, these days. The time after the war, after spending months trying to get those goddamn Illyrians back in line, it was taking its toll on him. His shadows, which curled behind his ears like tufts of dark hair, now seemed to swallow Azriel’s face whole, clenching around his body with an armored ferocity Rhysand was accustomed to.

Maybe, Azriel told himself, that was why he called him here. To see what he was up to. How he was doing. It annoyed him, when Rhys fluttered around him like a concerned mother hen, desperate to understand his feelings and thoughts.

He doubted he deserved to be cared for like that.

And maybe, he thought with a wry snort, it was why he had sent him on such a meaningless errand. A distraction, one he merely welcomed with indifference.

"There's a book," Rhys had drawled, leaning back in the chair pushed out from his onyx desk. Behind him, the portrait of his Mate seemed to glimmer with curiosity. "In the library beneath the House of Wind. A history book, about the royal bloodline. Feyre is making a family tree, and wishes to learn more about my ancestors. If you don't mind, I'd like you to retrieve it for me."

As though Azriel had nothing better to do. Truthfully, he didn't. But still he had replied slowly, his voice tight, "Can't you get it yourself? Or send Cass?" Rhysand only barked a laugh. When it came to his brother, Azriel knew he would do anything he asked. For his brother, he would have jumped into the Sidra if he had asked. It was beyond the duty to the High Lord with which Azriel regarded Rhysand; but that didn't mean he wouldn't give him grief for such a stupid task.

"No, shadowsinger," he had purred in reply, mouth stretching into a taunting grin. "I cannot. I'm far too busy looking at paint samples with my Mate. And besides, the priestesses like you best, don't they?" Rhys barked a laugh. Azriel opened his mouth to retort, to defend the way his shadows flinched, but he set his jaw tightly. The shadowsinger gave a subtle nod, then rose from his seat. A soft brushing of knuckles against his stony mental shields had him pausing in the doorway.

You can hide it, Rhys had said. You can hide many things from us. But you can't hide from me. You need this today.

Hide it, indeed.

Azriel huffed as he flew, wings beating against the cool summer breeze that rippled across his dark head. He needed to stretch his wings, to clear his head and focus on the warmth beating down on his back. The sun, hanging lazily in the afternoon sky, illuminated the blues and reds of his wings and cast his shadow over Velaris as he made his way to the library. He told himself he had only wanted to get it over with, and that was why he was moving so quickly, darting across the sky. That he wanted to go back to the townhouse and sulk. But Mother damn him, he couldn't stop that swell in his chest as he came nearer and nearer. That swell was akin to dying a joyous and euphoric death— there was no other way Azriel could accurately describe it. His heart pounded in anticipation at what he knew lay beyond those ancient doors.

Her.

Azriel had become accustomed to Gwyneth Berdara’s strange beauty and equally strange humour during their training; had grown to like her friendly nature and competitive, passionate spirit. If anything, he admired her. He might have even feared her. That cheerful female with copper hair that shined in the light of the sun and moon, both of which seemed to love her. They had spent months, moving side-by-side, grinning at each other across the ring while trying to slash the other with a sword.

Their encounters outside of training were brief, and conversations short. He supposed he wasn't one for talking, and allowed her to lead them in a dialogue. But as time went on, Azriel found the little smiles on her rosy lips now reflected on his, and the bright laughter that filled his ears now echoed softly in his own throat. With her, he felt his emotions bob to the surface, and for once, he didn't stop them.

From the moment he'd met Gwyn, she'd held Azriel's attention with a preternatural ability, and had caught him off guard more times than he'd like to admit. The shadowsinger, spymaster, king of shadows— taken by surprise by a young priestess.

His lips turned upward at the thought of her.

᯽

Azriel landed on the balcony of the House of Wind, his wings snapping behind him as he eased into a walk. His descent down the swirling staircase to the library was a silent one. Azriel had been to this athenaeum hundreds of times, far more than he could count, but it had never gotten easier.

The pain and sorrow he felt in the priestesses' sanctuary was suffocating, at times. Not because he had felt the same anguish himself, but because he had rescued many of them from it. Because the shadowsinger had seen the horrors they'd escaped from, and faltered, unknowing of what to say or do to offer comfort.

He remembered rescuing Gwyn. Azriel was the first of the Inner Circle to arrive. He remembered dragging his blade across the throat of the Hybern general who thought he had a claim to Gwyn, who thought he was worthy of even gracing her presence. His scarred hands shook even now with fury, fury and rage towards the soldiers who had defiled her home and her body.

Azriel knew though, it was nothing compared to the pain she must have felt. He couldn't bring himself to think of it. Every inch of him now trembled with that dark rage, the joy now vanished without a trace, and he clenched his fists— the fists of a killer, he thought bitterly. Distraction was a fruitless effort. They had hurt her, and he had made them pay with their lives.

He only wished that killing them might have eased her mind, as he hoped to. It didn't. Even now, he found himself staring at the wall late at night, wondering if those mental scars were healing.

Or if they were just as ugly and unavoidable as the ones he bore on his skin.

Melancholy filled him as he walked further into the forlorn depths of the ancient library. He seemed to disappear into it, willing the shadows nearby to whisk him away into oblivion.

᯽

The hymn sung during today’s dawn service had yet to leave Gwyn's mind. It was a soft, gentle song, full of joy and sorrow and hope— the beacon she needed today. When she had woken this morning, the heaviness of her heart had weighed on her with a particular viciousness. It had been difficult to rise, to dress in her familiar blue robes and run a brush through her tangles of copper hair.

But she had done it. A small victory. And she had dragged herself to morning service, as she did every day. It had taken her many months to work up the courage to attend after arriving initially. She couldn't bring herself to fill her heart with music, with love. Not when it was so ravaged by hate. Gwyn didn't know if she deserved to feel joy like that. But when she was through with feeling sorry for herself, through with feeling such overwhelming shame, she dragged herself to that first service and never looked back.

Now, she led the songs with a fervor she hadn't felt in the 2 years since Sangravah. Now, she was bursting with life. With passion. Although the shame had never quite left her, she was happier. Lighter. Gwyn was healing, and happy to do so.

Gwyn had suggested the priestesses sing an older selection of music today, one that cried love in the rawest of forms. It was in a language long forgotten, and the words that had been lost were replaced by lyrics in the common tongue. The song carried on long after the service had ended, caressing the dark confines of her mind and coaxing her out of her stupor.

Perhaps, she thought to herself with a small smile, it was magic. To her, music was magic.

And so Gwyn carried on with her day, pushing the cart that only seemed to get heavier and heavier as the hours flew by. She nodded to priestesses that passed by, and offered small smiles to those she recognized the scents of. The library was a quiet existence, save for the occasional conversation; so she filled the silence, humming and singing and tapping her fingers as she worked.

᯽

It was that soft singing that caught Azriel's attention as he stood before Clotho, his hands resting on the desk politely. Perhaps a reminder to those watching that he too, was damaged. A silent request to be accepted into their sacred space. He had asked politely about the book Rhysand had requested, and a silent prodding about the possibility of him seeking it out. With a shallow nod, Clotho permitted it, and waved a gnarled hand of dismission. She too, seemed to perk up at that singing, but merely shrugged when Az raised a brow. He studied her for a moment, before nodding and turning away. Clotho returned to her work without another word, but a secret smile ghosted her lips.

A few priestesses had indeed watched from afar, but quickly returned to their work as he approached the endless rows of books. Level Four, Section 3A, he repeated over and over. Level Four, Section 3A. Curiously, Azriel glanced over at the group of priestesses who now spoke quietly, and offered a rare, gentle smile to the group before descending down the spiral ramp to the next level.

Still that singing seemed to follow him, echoing off the stone walls.

It was, in simplest terms, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. His shadows harmonized with the gorgeous melody, a reverence of the Mother like no other. The song called to Azriel with an intensity that made his blood tremble, and pulled him until his feet seemed to move on their own, down and down and down into those depths of darkness and light and beauty. He picked up speed, his heartbeat erratic as his mind echoed with that damn music.

When he reached the fourth level, he turned in the direction Section 3A, looking up at a nearby sign. But when he took the first step, his shadows nipped at him, grabbing him by the sleeve and tugging him in the opposite direction. Come, they whispered. Find her.

Azriel hesitated for a breath, glancing back at the sign, then obliged. He was walking blind, betraying every battle instinct that had drilled into him. Ignoring them, he let his shadows guide him with a racing heart, until he found the source.

Mere feet away, there she stood, her straight copper hair tied back by a simple blue ribbon, the same sapphire shade as his siphons. A few stray wisps of red were tucked behind her delicately pointed ears. His shadows wanted to curl around those pretty ears, to run their dark fingers through the silky strands of her perfect hair, but he quickly tugged on their leash before they could slip away from him. Gwyn's lips moved gently, her voice vibrating with a clarity he wasn't quite sure was possible for Fae— but she wasn't entirely Fae, was she?

This damned female would surely be the end of him.

He felt his knees wobble, as her voice waltzed towards him on a star-studded breeze. Azriel had heard beautiful singing before— had been to the theatre several times with Rhysand and the Inner Circle, had tapped his foot to the sound of street performers on the cobblestone pathways of Velaris. But this was nothing like them. She was casual, examining the spines of books and then tucking them into spots on the shelves, rearranging them until she was satisfied. Her musical prowess was a stark contrast to the sight of her; Mother, just seeing her standing there was a perfect melody that made his blood sang. The words that left her lips though, were something wholly magical.

Gwyn was confident in her singing, confident enough to do so in a near silent library where all listened and admired her talent. When Gwyneth Berdara sang, the troubles of the priestesses weren't simply forgotten. Instead, they became tangible, and beautiful, and raw. They became a song, a flawless execution of emotion, a dance of mourning and a waltz of life , all at once. It was a release; a rebirth. It was an almost laughably common occurrence for females to cry tears of relief during her performances, but one that gave Gwyn a swelling sense of pride.

In her songs, there was an honesty that only Mor had ever shown; it was all swirling together like she herself was Cauldron-blessed and the Mother was pouring Gwyn's soul into the world. Time had frozen for— well, Azriel wasn't sure for how long. The faelights flickered around them, two beings lost in the eternity of the library, one seemingly unaware of the other.

If Azriel hadn't known better, he might have admitted how much his heart had calmed. How his chest had warmed, and the heavy weight he had been feeling on his shoulders had slowly but surely vanished. But he dare not say a word, and instead, savored the moment in contented silence.

His shadows, on the other hand, were perfectly content to dance and harmonize alongside her. They hugged the shadow cast at her feet, their misty forms swaying between them. Azriel clenched his fist, and swallowed. Stop it, he tried to command them. And of course, they ignored him wholly. Gwyn's song came to a close, and she hummed the tune to herself as she pushed the cart a bit further down the aisle. The shadows followed, and Azriel took a silent step forward, beckoning them. You're supposed to listen me, you know. They laughed at him in reply.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to eavesdrop, shadowsinger?"

Azriel's heart stopped.

᯽

Gwyn had known Azriel was near the moment he had stepped foot into the library. She wasn't sure how or why, but something in her seemed to suddenly resonate— a feeling ringing inside her that she couldn't quite explain, and only seemed to grow louder and more intense.

Until it was behind her, and she swore she felt the most tender of brushes against her ear, tucking her hair back. A bit of darkness flickered in and out of the corner of her eye, and a smile formed on her lips. Gwyn welcomed his shadows, let them settle at her feet and dance to her song. She had always liked them, anyway. She had been humming throughout the day, but when she had felt that warmth in her blood, it was as though the voice of the Mother had whispered into the curve of her ear: Sing.

So she did.

Gwyn had heard Azriel's soft footsteps as they approached the rows of shelves on Level Four. It wasn't particularly hard to identify them; no other males outside of the Inner Circle were permitted to visit, and no other was as subtle about his movements as the shadowsinger was. Months of training and sparring had accustomed her to his preternatural stillness. Yes, Gwyn assured herself, she had become very familiar with him. Had deduced that it must be him. Nothing more than that.

She dare not admit that she would have felt him and his shadows even if she were blind and deaf.

So finally, Gwyn spoke. Her lips curled into a teasing smile, and she turned to face Azriel fully. And of course, there he was, standing at the end of the aisle as she had expected. What she hadn't expected however, was that his eyes would be as wide and mouth hanging open as it was. Gwyn blinked, the only indicator of surprise, before she soothed her expression into one of cool teasing. The High Lord's spymaster straightened up as well, setting his jaw tightly. He cast his gaze to the floor.

"Gwyn," was all he said in greeting.

"Azriel." Her teal eyes sparkled, and her freckles seemed to glow like stars in the faelight. "What brings you here? Surely not my singing." A soft laugh.

What he wanted to say was, Yes. It was you. You and that damn gorgeous voice. I couldn't hear anything but you. Couldn't think about anything else. Hell, I forget walking down here.

But instead, he simply answered, "Book."

A pause. Azriel's cheeks flared, and his shadows made to quickly hide his embarrassment. He coughed. "A book. For Rhysand. A— a history book. Clotho directed me to this level."

"Ah," replied Gwyn. There was no hint of judgement in her tone. At least she didn't think he was a moron. His shadows flicked towards her curiously. "I see. And what sort of history book could interest our mighty High Lord?"

Gwyn's grin was unrelenting, but Azriel was far too stiff to even look up at her. He had been caught. The shadowsinger, the fucking spymaster for the Night Court, had been caught red-handed by a young female. Cassian would have guffawed at the sight of him blushing like an idiot.

Gwyn picked up a particularly heavy book, standing on her toes to reach a higher shelf. She strained, but was determined to reach what was too high above her head. Without thinking, Azriel moved. His strides were smooth, powerful even, and he stood beside her. A comfortable distance away, he took hold of the book, and gently pried it from her hand. A silent request. She obliged, releasing her hold as his scarred fingers grazed hers. A tingling sensation crept up her body from that contact, while Az pushed the book into its slot effortlessly. Gwyn still remained on her toes, looking up at him as he seemingly towered over her. Yet, she was not afraid of him. It was impossible to be, not when he was so gentle, and so strong, and had saved her life—

"Family history," he clarified. His voice was a low caress. "For Feyre." Azriel's hand lingered on the shelf high above her for a moment, a finger trailing slowly down the cracked spine of the book. Gwyn's eyes darted from his face to the book, then back to his face. A moment seemed to stretch into a thousand tiny moments that burned into his mind like etchings on a cave: face, so smooth and gentle, yet lively; plush, pink lips that curved upwards, that seemed to have a magnetic pull to his. If he leaned down far enough, his mouth might have met hers. Gods, she was divine. As expected of a priestess, he supposed.

He took in the rest of her face: a strong, stubborn chin, with equally opposing gentle eyes, that flared with surprise once more. He sensed a gradual change in her scent, one he didn't recognize. Gwyn's freckled face flushed pink, and Az worried that he might have overstepped her boundaries.

So he retracted his arm, and took a step back. The heels of Gwyn’s silk-slippered feet lowered to the floor. The male ran a scarred hand through his dark hair, and Gwyn tracked the movement, her eyes catching on every strand and wave of his silken locks. Her face seemed a bit rosier than it had before. He swore silently, worried he had upset her.

"Thank you," Gwyn said rather suddenly, as though snapping out of a daze. The faint blush did not leave her cheeks, though. Her hand drifted to her necklace, fiddling with it and zipping the small flower pendant along the chain. He only stole a glance at her, not wanting to stare too long and make her uncomfortable. But seeing her in that necklace, touching it so affectionately... Az felt his mind ease into a calm. With Gwyn, he felt absolved. Even for just a moment.

"Would you mind helping me? Find the book, I mean." Azriel asked, jerking his chin towards the section. Thinking for a moment, he quickly added, "That is, if you're not too busy."

Gwyn halted, and chewed on her lip. She glanced up at the other floors, as though looking at something in quiet consideration. then returned her gaze to him. There was no way she could say no— not when he made the sorrow in her mind settle. Not when he made her feel so... happy.

"I would love to."

Something about that smile… It was so disarming. He had no defenses, no stealth, no plans for her. Even his shadows, usually astute guard dogs, had rolled over to bear their bellies to her.

They liked her.

He liked her.

A secret, happy possibility was tucked away in the back of his mind.

Gwyn’s heart skipped a beat, as though she was wondering the same thing.

What they could be.

“Lead the way, Berdara.” He made a lazy motion with his hand, and the corners of his lips tugged upwards. He sketched a bow, like a true courtly gentleman.

She returned the smile, her teal eyes sparkling with a new feeling, and took his arm. "Gladly."

The touch sent his heart soaring.

nepenthe (noun)— something that makes you forget grief or suffering.