#i have never drawn chickens before in my life and by god it shows

[ghostlylulla-by]

you (autistic) and your twin (autistic but to the left)

[meg96]

Day 1/7 of fast

I tried to start yesterday but I think mentally I put too much introspection on my plate for it to be successful. I did some laundry today and that was about it, played Neopets and only thought about writing.

Yesterday I had planned to write a journal entry. I am fasting for mental and spiritual reasons, nothing to do with my body or even necessarily physical health. I drank aspartame today which was a mistake. I also had a cup of warm chicken broth with soya sauce, garlic and cayenne. I told my mom and she said come Christmas if they don't stop bombing Palestine she was going to fast, too.

I'm really hoping to have some dreams that help heal me and guide me to right action. I won't go into detail here because it's my intention to make this a safe and happy place this time around. I want to reblog things that bring me joy and peace, which is hard because I'm naturally drawn to darkness and morbidity. I want this to be a simple pleasures kind of blog and I don't want to spend the rest of my life in the dark, afraid and sad. I need to curate a mental state that stops me from having nightmares and shaking in bed, and a big part of that is confronting the situation that lays before me. I need to trust in my own heart.

Another part of my fast has not just been going without food, but deleting social media apps for the week and trying to stop using divination to help quell my anxiety. My anxiety is a massive beast that I can't battle, so it's better if I walk away from it, slowly. I need to leave some things to God.

Speaking of God, after many discussions of the Him in Christianity, and then not Him in Buddhism, and paganism with my Muslim friend, I've decided to start reading the Quran. I started yesterday. I'm not very far in but I really like it so far and honestly Islam makes a lot of sense to me. They say the Quran has never been edited or revised unlike the Bible. I can relate to it as someone who was raised Catholic because the Bible is part of the Quran anyway and to me it seems like I could have been Muslim my whole life if I believed in the Bible anyway, though I'm not calling myself a Muslim just yet.

I know I'm trying to cultivate a positive space, but my friend and I were talking about the angel of death in Islam and how three times a day he visits you and three times a day Allah sends him away. And she was telling me Muslims believe at the end of your life you see the angel of death and if you have peace in your heart and are going to Jannah, you feel happy and blissful and die easily. If you have unrighteous anger, sorrow and fear in your heart you will be terrified and your death will not be peaceful. So last night I dreamt I killed myself with my mom sitting next to me and told her I was scared. My body slowly began to rise up and then it crashed back down to the floor as I looked on from outside myself. It was terrifying, it woke me straight up. I don't want to feel like this for much longer. I am trying to have faith but I am human and I am so many things: shameful, scared, regretful, and sad among them.

This reads as a journal entry I guess but it's not particularly honest because I am specifically not discussing some very major events. I am trying to be brave. I wonder if I will always feel like this half a person, knowing I can never show my full face.

Anyway, I'm proud that I'm successful today in my fast and hoping I can continue for the full 7 days. I'm not going to overplan like I did for the first day which set me up for failure. I'm going to play Neopets which gives me a nostalgic happiness and then go to bed now that I've had my comforting broth. Good night internet 🌈

[bonnieisaway]

god i fucking LOVE the openings and endings. there's this constant theme, not even just of the way he's plunged into every life he's lived, that he's a victim of his own narrative with hardly any control, but this constant theme of drowning.

drowning symbolically ended his own life - he did LITERALLY fall into the water underneath the bridge during the final encounter with the girl in white - and he washes up on chicken island but the tides always pull him back. he always gets drawn back in and he always drowns again. it's not even exclusive to his two separate lives, it's to any sort of a lack of control he feels

this moment where he passes out here isn't indicative of like, a switch flipping between an old and a new seven, this is caused by a poison entirely isolated from that, but the lack of control he has over his emotions and body brings him back here and from there the comparison is drawn of the lack of control he generally had over his life

he is here drowning once again and it feels like the way he drowned before. his connection to the ocean is something we need to talk about way more because for a man who lives on a tiny island he is pictured drowning CONSTANTLY. and it's such a good symbolism for the lack of control he has in his life and how inescapable and helpless it all starts to feel.

fortunately i've never drowned before but from the way my friends who have been close have described it and the way i've seen it talked about it is suffocating and it feels near impossible to thrash and scream for help. the closer you get to the bottom the more your body just,, gives up. where you can no longer hold your breath and you're forced to inhale and let the water in.

seven is never visibly pulled out of water - because in the grand scheme of things, he's still always drowning, he's never out of the woods - but it is always the people around him who pull him out of this feeling. it was the girl in white who made him fight the water and desperately try to escape and it was the girl in white who caused him to stop and let the water take him again. it was xiao fei who insisted they pull him out of the water on that beach and yet his life haunts him and his love for these islanders - and it's not even just his friends, his love for any random islanders as you said - throws him back into the water again. and he tries to traverse across the surface, he builds a raft and finds a map and he leaves (notably he isn't visibly UNDER the water in the s3ed, he's thrown under but resurfaces with his hair down) and he ultimately - in this moment with blackbird - is pulled back under, and it is the thought of thirteen that rips him back out, thirteen is the reason he resurfaces again.

the tide ALWAYS pulls him back in. it constantly does. it's such a fucking. expertly crafted metaphor for his absolute lack of control and how exhausted he must be - several times is he nearly at the ocean floor when he's ready to just give up and it's the people in his life that pull him back up. the opening has this explosion out of the water where he finally pulls himself out again, and the ending has this """gentle""" (he is kinda tossed but it's done so slowly in the tone the ending does it in) push back into the water once again , and repeat and repeat and repeat

i fucking love seven's relationship to the ocean and the drowning metaphor/symbolism so much. like actually i think it's one of my favorites in the entire show

Something about the feelings of gently floating s3's ed evokes vs the way he shoots himself out of his old life into his new one in the op.

The way two islanders literally THROW him into is past. The way he just accepts it. The way the eds are often more dream-esc eish fulfilment. While the ops are bombastic action pieces or somber symbolism pieces.

[ashonheavenscloud]

Beautiful || Bang Chan

Beautiful || Bang Chan for kinktober

🔞CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT! MINORS DNI!🔞

warnings: dom!chan/sub!fem!reader, praise, breast play, teasing, mirror kink, fingering, back-to-chest, ice play!!

word count: 3.2K

🎧: beautiful - hyunjin’s unreleased song that i am DESPERATE to be released😩

—————————————————————————

Your apartment had never been as beautiful as it was tonight.

Candles flickered from their place on table tops, the coffee table, and one even hung from the ceiling in a glass jar, held up by a metal hook. The stand up mirror in the corner of the living room had been strung with fairy lights, and the curtains had been drawn shut. You’d dimmed the lights, set the table with a pretty green tablecloth and even brought out the seasoned wine you’d been waiting on for a while now, waiting for the right occasion. Beside each glass stood cups of ice cold water and sprigs of mint and lemon- you were pulling all the stops out tonight.

And Chan, your fiance, coming home from his business trip after nearly three weeks away from home, seemed celebration enough.

Your heart was in your throat, nerves dancing like a swarm of butterflies in your chest. There wasn’t a word to explain how much you’d missed him. He filled your life in every aspect- his touch, his words, his smile- and you couldn’t believe you’d lasted almost a full month without his presence beside you. Phone calls and video chats had been as frequent as possible, but they weren’t at all the same as him actually being here.

But tonight, you wouldn’t be seeing him through a screen and hearing his voice through a speaker. He’d be back home, back to you, in… you checked your phone for the time: 8:24 pm.

Any minute now.

He’d called half an hour ago to let you know that his flight had landed safely and he would catch a taxi home. You’d immediately set to work, prepping food to go in the oven later, decorating the place, and making sure you were wearing one of his oversized shirts. You knew he loved when you wore his clothes.

Your plan for the night was relatively simple- a nice meal of chicken stir-fry and store bought egg rolls, where you could catch up on the missed time, you would watch your favourite show (and hopefully pay attention to none of it), which would of course lead to a heavy make-out session, complete with sex and cuddling in bed. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep next to him again.

The stage was set. Everything was ready.

And as soon as Chan stepped through the door, it all fell apart.

You weren’t even granted a moment to speak before he’d dropped his suitcase on the ground, rushed to you and kissed you, hand slipping around the back of your neck to pull you to him, tilting your head just the right way to have your body tingling. You couldn’t help but sigh, relaxing into the kiss, threading a hand through his hair before he pulled back, a smile bright on his face.

“Oh my god, I missed you.” He whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, like he was touching a piece of art. The action made you want to scream. Somehow, the space between had made him ten thousand times more beautiful in your eyes now that he was back. You took in his messy curls half hidden with a beanie, the jeans and plain black shirt that dressed his body, the faint stubble on his cheeks, often the result of busy weeks. Every bit of him was gorgeous.

“Me, too.” You whispered, playing with his curls, appreciating the feeling of them between your fingers after so long. Out of all the things you’d missed during Chan’s trip away, it was this closeness, this intimacy, that had been missed the most. Feeling him, feeling connected to him. You wanted nothing right now more than to kiss him and feel him, the boy you’d missed like he was a very part of your body, and extension of your heart.

It was almost like he could read your mind- his lips were back on yours, and dinner and your show and a follow-up of cuddles and the entire plan was tossed out the window. You couldn’t focus on anything but the enthusiasm of his kiss, at the desperation in it. Clearly, you hadn’t been the only one missing and craving touch.

“Miss me that much?” You giggled against his lips, and the way he looked back at you gave you wild butterflies.

“Every day.” He whispered, kissing you again, and mumbling against your lips. “You have no clue how much.”

His kisses quickly turned feverish, as his body guided you back, sitting you on the arm of the couch. Your hands found their way through his locks, the beanie slipping to the floor as you pressed him closer to you, making him grunt into the kiss, hands on the back of your neck. “God-”

His lips slipped to your jawline, snappy kisses heating up your body. His fingers slipped between your shoulder and your shirt, pulling the fabric up and over your head in one swift movement. Your body tingled as his eyes roamed your skin, hands wasting no time to discard your bra and move to fondle your breasts. He cupped them and squeezed, releasing to enjoy the way they bounced. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he played with them, leaning in to capture one of the buds between his teeth. The wet feeling of his tongue on your nipple was divine, your head tipping back as you bit your lip to hold back a moan.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty and perfect.” He groaned, teasing the nipple further. You whined, toes curling, body writhing at the intensity of the feeling. He chuckled, hands finding your hips to keep you in place for him as he slowly sucked.

Your eyes rolled shut, swirls of pleasure tingling through your body and finding their way to your clenching core, desperate for his touch inside of you. You made that clear by winding your legs around Chan’s midsection, pleased to feel the boner under his pants. You palmed it over the fabric, rewarded with a buck of his hips and a harsh groan as he released your nipple.

“I…” his eyes raised to yours, heavy and dark. “I’m afraid I have to ruin your plans for the night.”

“Please,” you wound your arms around his neck, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “Be my guest.”

Without another word, Chan picked you up, arms securely under your ass- and then he was kissing you again, no less needy than before. You softly moaned into the kiss, addicted to the warmth of his body against your skin. You couldn’t wait for him to be even closer, and it seemed like Chan had the same opinion. He didn’t waste time discarding his jeans and shirt and finding a spot on the couch, hands gripping your waist as you straddled his hips and pressed against his chest.

From here the kiss turned into pure heat. Sloppy and open mouthed, while Chan’s hands slipped up to tease your nipples with harsh rubs. Your legs closed tighter around his thighs at the heat spreading to the pit of your tummy, making Chan grin as he subtly lifted his hips, letting you feel the hard boner straining against his boxers and staining them with precum.

“Shit,” You moaned, with a small laugh. “You’re going to drive me insane one day.”

He flashed you a cheeky grin, before leaning forward and kissing each of your breasts gently. Then he pulled back, eyes glancing around the room.

“You really went all out.” He whispered, eyes sparkling in the dim light. You smiled shyly, but he didn’t seem to notice, eyes fixed on something else that had caught his attention.

After a few seconds, he blinked, and turned back to you. A slow smile crept up his lips, and then he hovered over you, slipping kisses up and down your shoulder.

“I know exactly what to do with you tonight.”

His sultry tone threw your mind into a spiral and had you clenching around nothing. All your attention latched onto him, the rumble of his voice, the glint in his dark eyes. “W-what?”

His smile was almost devilish as he kissed your lips, dragging at your bottom lip when he pulled away. “Let me make you feel good.” He whispered.

His lips descended on your skin, kissing down your chest, over your breasts and down to your navel. In the meantime, his hands undressed you, discarding your shorts and panties, spreading you wide for him. You shivered as the cold air greeted you, and for some reason, that seemed to make Chan grin.

“Cold?”

“Not for long.” You responded cheekily, and Chan giggled.

“Oh?”

His mouth trailed back up your body and connected with your lips. His one hand rushed to thread through your hair and pull you close, the roughness of his touch making you softly moan into his mouth, greeted by the poke of his tongue as he messily kissed you. Your hands quickly began to tug at his locks, hips subconsciously grinding against his right thigh desperately for friction against your aching, tight core.

Chan grunted when a particular grind came in contact with his girth, and pulled away, eyes locked on yours. His voice was low when he told you, “Turn around.”

Heart thrumming with excitement, you did what you were told as Chan discarded his boxers and you settled back on his lap, back pressed to his chest, ass resting over his hard dick. The feeling made your core clench around nothing.

Chan’s mouth found your shoulder, sucking on the skin and leaving a sting with each blooming red mark. You groaned at the feeling, head lolling against his shoulder. At this Chan shook his head, one hand coming up to grip your chin and make you face forward.

“Look,” he said, and that’s when you noticed the mirror; lit up with fairy lights, and perfectly angled to hold your image in the glass. You looked like a mess, but even more so- even hotter- so did Chan. His curls were wild on his head, toned body already slightly sweaty, lips red from kissing you. You watched almost trancelike as Chan slipped a hand under your breast and squeezed, while the other found its way between your legs to spread them out.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He whispered, lustful eyes meeting yours in the reflection, as he leaned down to place a slow wet kiss to the crook of your neck. You shivered at the touch, the need in your sex nearly unbearable by now. 

“Fuck, Chan-”

He didn’t respond, simply sliding his fingers between your folds, the feel of his fingers like electricity. You inhaled sharply, curling into Chan, who grinned.

“You must have really missed me, considering how fucking soaked you are.” He teased, leaning forward to take your earlobe in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive spot. You whined, impatient, but Chan was always a good multitasker. His thumb rubbed between your slit, finding your clit and gently pinching it between his fingers. You hissed, writhing, and his other hand moved down to hold your hips in place.

“Stay still, baby.” He murmured, and you obeyed as his hand dipped further, and he eased his first finger into your pulsing core. 

Your eyes watched in the mirror as your pussy swallowed him desperately, and the image made your skin burn at how filthy it all was, how absolutely dirty the two of you looked already. Chan’s eyes stayed fixed on you in the reflection while he slowly began a pace, pleasuring your body with every rub of his finger against your slick walls. You struggled to keep your head up, small moans bubbling up your throat as his other hand slipped back up to palm your nipples.

“Good girl.” He whispered, eyes never leaving yours as he slowly leaned forward and languidly mouthed and sucked at your neck, pace rapidly speeding up. Your moans came out broken as he added another two fingers in one go, curling his fingers just so. You whimpered at the feeling, heatwaves rushing through your body and straight to your core.

“Feel good, babygirl?” 

“Yes, god-” you broke off into a moan when his thumb started to rub on your clit. “Perfect.”

Chan offered a slow, wet kiss to your shoulder before pulling his fingers out completely. You whined at the sudden emptiness, catching his gaze in the mirror. “C-chan-”

Wordlessly, he reached beside the couch, and you watched with a frown as he grabbed one of the glasses of water resting on the side table. You watched with uncertainty as he reached into the glass to pick out a cube of ice, about the size of a marble.

Instantly you knew what was about to happen- this wasn’t your first time with ice play. Your core jolted at the anticipation, as Chan brought the glassy piece of ice to rub it over your inner thigh. The cold was shocking to your system, and you jerked, hastily gripping at Chan’s wrist. He chuckled, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, grinning. “Relax, baby.” He whispered, cooing.

Your breaths came out shaky, wild excitement pulsing through your body as Chan rubbed circles over your thighs with the frigid cube of ice. With every swirl, he brought the piece of ice closer and closer to your throbbing core, clenching needily. And then at last, he slipped it between your folds, making you gasp at the cold. Chan’s lips were attached to your body again, slipping to the other shoulder to kiss and tongue over the skin; but his eyes- his fucking eyes- never left yours in the mirror, as he pressed the ice further, deeper, entering your hole.

And god, it was glorious.

The freezing sensation was overwhelming, but the slick wetness of the cube soothed and pleasured your walls in ways that had your eyes glazing over, mindless whines tumbling from your lips. Chan paused his movements, as the ice simply sat there, melting in your pussy, trickling slowly out- and it was agonizing, how little and how much it gave you at the same time, as you tossed your head back, moaning. “Chan, fuck-”

“I know, my love.” He gently kissed your jawline, voice gravelly and quiet. “Feels good, doesn’t it, beautiful?”

“Fuck, fuck yes-” You groaned, squirming, but Chan’s hands quickly gripped your waist to keep you still.

“I got you,” he whispered, and his fingers were back, slipping into you to join the mess, and beginning a slow rub inside your hole. His other hand grabbed onto your thigh, spreading you further, stretching you further for him.

You clenched around him when he dug in deeper, vaguely grinding into the motion as his thumb found your clit again, rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves. 

“You’re my good girl, letting me play with you, aren’t you?” Chan practically growled, his fingers scissoring you quickly, and you could barely speak, the knot in your stomach beginning to clench painfully. Your head tilted back further, eyes flickering, mouth wide open.

“I- I-”

“Eyes on me, beautiful.” Chan whispered, sinking his fingers in deeper, the cold of the ice cube shocking your g-spot, making your walls clench around him. You moaned softly, struggling to lift your head to meet Chan’s gaze in the mirror. His eyes were glazed over as he stared back at you, absolutely love drunk.

“God, I missed ruining you like this.” He half groaned, lips finding the crook of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he began a slow pace, digging his fingers further with every push. As the ice melted, cold water continued to trickle out your entrance in slow rivers, the sensation almost overwhelmingly pleasant, making your eyes roll back. Your breaths were heavy. Your body was burning, heat crawling over every inch of your skin despite the freezing cold of the ice inside you. The addictive feeling paired with his slick fingers pumping into you, his mouth sucking at the junction of your jaw, and his cock hard under your ass had the knot tightening in your stomach already.

“You’re so good for me.” Chan whispered, his other hand moving to rub at your clit, sending shockwaves through your body as you squirmed and whined, digging your hips down to chase the pleasure they granted. Your hands gripped his thighs shakily as he chuckled, sucking at your skin, moving two fingers in a circular motion over your clit.

You stuttered out a moan, head lolling back, sparks of heat rushing through your veins. “G-god, Chan-”

“Yes, beautiful?”

“D-don’t stop.” You pleaded, eyes squeezed shut, mind spinning with pleasure. Chan’s response was to giggle, and peck your cheek, before moving to whisper in your ear.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

His fingers curled in just the right way, pressing the ice against your g-spot, making you gasp and whimper. “M-more.”

“Such a greedy little thing.” He teased, but he removed his fingers and with effort, found a comfortable position to slip his length in from behind. The angle was perfect though, and you saw stars as he pushed into you, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out. His pace was quickly set, steady and firm, causing you to choke on moans with every roll of his hips. Cold water still seeped from your pussy, and Chan hissed at the icy feeling on his cock, which twitched and pulsed inside you. “Fuck.”

His pace sped up, and you met him halfway, desperately chasing your oncoming high. One arm wrapped around to hold your chin in place, forcing you to watch every moment of your desperate, feral sex. Chan’s eyes were particularly wild, and in the end his gaze on yours was what made you come hard, vision going white as your walls clenched around him and you moaned long and loud.

Chan continued to rut up into you, grip on your chin never loosening, his other hand moving to tightly grip your waist. “Such a good pussy, my good girl-”

You moaned, his hips beginning to stutter and lose their tempo. At last he came, spilling into you and milking his release for a moment before he stilled completely.

You made to move off of him, but both of his arms wound tightly around you, keeping you to his chest. Chan softly kissed your back several times, whispering in between each one, “Let’s stay here for a bit. Please. I just want to feel you. I missed you so goddamn much.”

You instantly melted, resting tiredly against his chest as he continued to kiss along your skin softly, taking you in. Your hands reached back to play with his curls absentmindedly, and he sighed, resting his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, and you thought you might never get used to him saying that. 

Or slowly whispering it back.

[omg-imatotalmess]

Better Than Your Pillow

Hey guys! There was an anon that asked for a little more sub!neville as a cure for their blues, and I couldn’t resist. Sub!neville is chicken soup for the soul. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Requested: Ye

Anonymous Requested: i need more sub neville. i’m so sad

Warnings: Pillow humping, mild voyeurism, fingering, dirty talk, mild praise kink, sub!neville, dom!reader, swearing

                                                             ---

If you hadn’t seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it. Neville. Your sweet, shy, ever awkward Neville curled over his pillow, humping it with the desperation of a dog in heat. All while spilling the filthiest fantasies into the open air. Every one of them revolving around you. In your shock, all you could do was take it in. And you couldn’t say you minded. He was really putting on a good show.

“(Y/N)! Fuck, I’ll be your good boy!” he cried, fisting his sheets like they were the only things keeping him steady.

“I’ll be so good! Use me however you want. Please, I want you to!” he babbled. His hips shifted faster, maybe imagining your reply. You certainly knew what it would be.

You took a step further into the room, closing the door quietly so as not to disturb the scene in front of you. It was everything you’d ever hoped for—the amalgamation of every wet dream you’d ever had wrapped up in a pretty bow. Well, in an argyle sweater vest, actually. Leaning against the bedpost, you let his sheer want wash over you. It was heavy and searing but more perfect than you ever could have imagined. And from there, you could see his face. The way his mouth gaped open, chest heaving with every sound out of him and his eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of pleasure your phantom self was giving him. It made you wonder what he’d look like if he got the real thing. You couldn’t believe Neville hadn’t noticed you yet. Then again, he was too busy talking to hear your own labored breaths.

“Do anything you want to me! Please, I’m yours. Your little slut to play with! Tie me up and play with me until you’re satisfied!” he begged.

“If that’s what you want.” The words slipped out of your mouth completely unbidden.

“(Y/N)?!” he squeaked.

“You were late to our study session,” you said.

“I-I’m so sorry. Merlin, I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. Let me just p-put my trousers on an-and I’ll be there in a minute,” he rambled, scrambling into a sitting position with the pillow doing very little to conceal his flushed, dripping cock.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you said, a smile curling at the corner of your mouth, “It looked like you were just getting to the good bit.”

“Please don’t tease me,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Who’s teasing?” you asked, feeling a smile curling at the corner of your mouth.

“Why can’t the castle just swallow me whole and put me out of my misery?” he said miserably. It was like he hadn’t heard you.

“Who’s teasing, Nev? I’m interested,” you said.

“I-Interested?” he sputtered, head shooting up.

“Mm-hmm, I’d love to help you out. If you want me to, that is. If not, I’ll leave, and we’ll pretend this never happened,” you offered.

Blinking at you with big, slightly unsure eyes, Neville let his pillow slip off his lap. He wanted to. You could tell that much. The way his eyes trailed up and down your body was leaving you a little hot under the collar. Smiling, you waited for him to answer. It was his decision, and who were you to rush him? Taking in a shaky breath, he reached for you, pulling you gently onto the bed while trying not to look you in the eyes.

“Please?” he whispered.

“Please what?” you asked despite the knowing glint in your eye.

“Please, touch me,” he muttered shyly.

“Like this?” you asked, drawing patterns over his plush thigh with your fingertips, just barely brushing his cock each time. It jumped with each gentle attention.

“(Y/N),” he whined. You gave him a wolfish grin.

“I guess I did say I wasn’t teasing,” you said. “Undress me.”

“A-Are you sure?” Despite the question, he was already working the buttons of your shirt with shaking hands, popping them open one by one.

“Hurry up. I don’t like to be kept waiting,” you ordered.

“A-Alright. Anything you want,” he breathed, yanking your shirt the rest of the way open and pushing it off your shoulders before making quick work of your pants. Each item was laid carefully beside the bed as soon as it left you. Before long, you were bare in front of him as his eyes roamed your body. It was like you’d showed him Eden. He couldn’t figure out where to look first. You smiled, pulling him toward you by his sweater vest. God, you were glad he’d kept it on.

“Good boy,” you purred, “Now, I want you to finger me open until I’m nice and ready to take that pretty cock of yours.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, reaching blindly for the bottle of lube he’d tossed on the edge of the bed when he started.

Slicking up his fingers, he stroked over you a few times just to excite you a little more. Also likely just to touch you like that. You let him. Bringing your hands to your own chest, you pinched and tugged at your nipples lightly. Partly to add to the sensation of Neville’s fingers stroking your sex and partly to put on a show. He watched your fingers dancing over your chest for a moment before bringing his eyes to yours.

“Can I-Can I suck them?”

“Kiss me first,” you said. As his lips touched your own, he pressed a finger into you gently. Groaning, you arched your back and bit down on his lip. When he let out a thin whine, you laved your tongue over the spot. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, his finger moving in you, kissing you as though the world was burning down around you. Then you pulled back. Dragging in a deep breath, you fisted his hair.

“Go on. Use your mouth.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Licking and sucking at your nipples as he added fingers. His tongue flickered over one hardened bud, pressing his fingers into you all the more eagerly.  For a while, you simply lost yourself to the sensation.

“(Y/N),” he whined, grinding his dripping cock against your leg.

“Be a good little slut and beg for it,” you said.

“Please, please, I’ll do anything you want! I’ll be such a good boy for you. I will. So good. Please, (Y/N), let me put it in. Can I put it in?” he plead, practically humping your leg like he’d been humping his pillow earlier.

“You really want it?” you teased.

“Yes! So much! I’ll be such a good boy,” he promised.

“Fuck me.” Your voice was low and sharp—an order. One that he couldn’t have resisted even if he wanted to. He pressed into you slowly, watching you to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Each inch was a little more heaven than the last. Growling, you tugged his hair and bucked your hips down impatiently.

“I-I’m trying to be gentle,” he whimpered, shaking in your grip.

“Who the fuck asked for gentle?” you snarled, yanking his hair savagely. “I said fuck me, Neville!”

“Ooooooh!” A long howl burst from his mouth as he thrust into you recklessly, which you silenced with your mouth. Swallowing down his pathetic, little sounds of please and trading them for yours. His hips pounded against yours, encouraged by your heels digging into the small of his back. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was chasing his pleasure or yours. You didn't care. It was all the same.

“Fuck, there! Good boy, right there!” you groaned.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you...” his thanks became a chant into the crook of your neck. He only interrupted it to sink his teeth into it every now and then.

“Harder!” Obedient as you expected, he fucked into you hard enough to scoot the two of you up the bed. The sound of the headboard slamming against the wall was just background noise to you. Neville’s drawn-out, sobbing moans were far more interesting.

“Close,” he breathed.

“Don’t you dare cum before I do,” you hissed in his ear.

“Please, please, (Y/N). So close,” he begged. His hips had completely lost any semblance of rhythm. They just pistoned away unevenly, somehow managing to hit exactly where you wanted it most.

“C’mon, a little more. Almost...!” Your words trailed off into a long, high moan as your orgasm washed over you. For a moment, the world whited out. All you could feel was Neville driving himself into you like a man unhinged and wave after wave of pleasure. When you finally came back to earth, Neville was hammering into you, sobbing incoherent pleas into your shoulder.

“Can I cum? Please?” he sobbed.

“Cum for me,” you said. And he was gone. His teeth sunk into your shoulder, but it did nothing to stifle his shout of pleasure. You could feel his hands leaving bruises on your hips, but you didn’t mind. Not as he shook on top of you, pumping his cock in you a few final times before collapsing on top of you. Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his sweaty hair.

“Better than you pillow?” you giggled after a moment of catching your breath.

“I’m never going to live this down,” he muttered, keeping his face buried in your neck.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never cum so hard in my life,” you said. Pulling back, he looked down at you with a good measure of surprise on his face.

“R-Really? I was good?” he stuttered in disbelief.

“So fucking good. Jesus Christ, Nev, I almost blacked out,” you said. He made a pinched-off sound, dipping his face out of your eyesight. After another moment of silence, he spoke up.

“Thank you,” he said.

“No problem. If you ever wanna do that again, come find me,” you said, carding your fingers gently through his hair.

“Can I take you on a d-date first?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that, but how about a nap first,” you said. Nodding, he curled up against your side and dropped off almost immediately. You, however, laid awake for a bit. That was so much better than studying. And definitely better than his pillow.

[oumaheroes]

Stargazing

Word Count: 2030

Characters: England, France- FrUK

---

‘If you could go back to any era, which would you choose?’ There is a stone in-between France’s shoulder blades, something that finally tips the scales from being comfortable into not, so France rolls onto his side, cradling his head in his hand.

From his spot in the grass next to him, England turns his head lazily, the movement long and slow. His eyes are the last to move, fixed on the stars, and they find France’s with a sharp flick, ‘What?’

‘Are you too drunk to listen?’ France lifts a heavy arm and reaches across the small distance between them to brush some errant hair away from England’s forehead and lets it stay there, tangled in his roots. France himself is wine soft and slow, warm in his stomach and chest from both the day and the drink which settles within him.

England huffs, ‘More like drunk enough that I can stop pretending you’re worth listening to.’

France hums indulgently, far too jovial at the moment to search for any unintended offense, ‘oh, the lies you tell yourself. They do amuse me.’

England frowns, head still facing France and cheek pillowed in the grass.  Wine is not enough to soften him entirely, it seems, ‘that is rich, coming from you.’

France brings his hand down from England’s hair to lay it across his mouth, ‘I’m not starting anything with you this evening, I’m too full.’

England opens his mouth and, very gently, bites the meat of the pad of France’s hand. Just to show that he could and to be difficult, showing that he won’t go down without a fight. France’s small input in the ridiculous battle is to leave it there, refusing to give in. Eventually, England lets go and moves his head away, although not before pressing his teeth down just that bit harder. France reclaims his hand and allows him escape without protest.

‘What drivel did you ask me?’ England looks back up at the sky again, high and cloudless above them.

‘If you could be in any era again, any that we have lived through,’ France repeats, ‘which would you pick to go back to?’ He has caught England in a good mood, one where he has allowed himself to be seen, for a time, without anything sharp covering him. Drink has made him pliant and loose tongued and France, in a similar mood, is keen to make the most of it.

England rolls his head slightly back, considering the question, ‘How long do I get in the era?’

‘No, don’t do that, don’t make it technical. It’s not a difficult question.’

‘It most certainly is, running water always influences things,’ England’s mouth twists in a wry hint of a smile, ‘and it’s one thing to pop back to the Tudor times for one of the court parties and quite another to have to spend more than a week there. I do not lament the loss of hose and codpiece.’

‘I do, they made my legs look fabulous.’

England snorted and rolled his eyes, ‘Why am I not surprised.’

‘You’re avoiding the question,’ France twists away from him briefly to feel for the wine bottle they’d been drinking from. It had rolled away slightly, the slight incline of France’s garden causing it to move easily as they shuffled about and he takes a long swing of it before laying it between them, neck resting on England’s stomach. He’s past beyond the point of using glasses now.

‘I’m not avoiding the question, I was trying to-‘

‘No stop, you’re ruining it; I’ll go first,’ after brushing the grass underneath to clear it of stones, France returns to lying on his back, arms behind his head, and ignores England’s tut of annoyance, ‘I think I’d actually want to go back to the days under Rome, just for a visit.’

England sits up on his elbows and takes a sip from the bottle himself, ‘I hadn’t expected that of you.’

‘No?’

‘God no. I would have thought you’d want to go back to one of your King Luis. You know, peak opulence, decadence- all that faff. You still love the fancy balls and the clothes, and the needless tat that came with it,’ England takes another sip of wine and runs his tongue over his teeth, ‘the dances and the jewels, the silly little court rules of behaviour. The gossip.’

France chuckles, ‘you were so funny every time you were dragged along- so out of place! You couldn’t go more than an hour before letting your true colours slip free.’ England was never truly refined for very long, especially when it came to the Versailles’ court standards.

‘Anyone with a lick of sense was immediately out of place,’ England quips drily and lays down again, placing the cork back in the wine as he goes.

It sounds nearly empty- shame. It was a nice year and the last of the bottles that they’d brought out to the garden. Dinner had been a late, informal affair in France’s kitchen- homemade bread and creamy, locally made cheese with chicken. Simple and filling, comfort food for the both of them. The summer heat made them both unwilling for anything too excessive and the entire day had been spent doing lots of nothing much at all; England lounging about in shorts that France refrained from teasing him about lest he stop wearing them.

‘Yes well,’ France lifts his head and clumsily bats him in the stomach with the top of his hand, ‘despite that indeed being extremely enjoyable, I do mean it. My choice of era, I mean.’

England makes a soft noise that gently demands elaboration, a low rumble in the back of his throat but France needs no prompting. He presses a knuckle into the softness of England’s stomach and feels him breathe in deep and slow.

‘I’d love to have nothing to be responsible for again. Everything was done for me, as a colony- the way my cities were built, the improvements made to my industries, the negotiations for trade and commerce, everything. I’d like to revisit being a child, in the closest sense of childhood our kind has,’ France pauses, mulling that over, ‘Imagine that again, being small but without fear of being so. No politics, no money driven economy, no push for growth. We have spent so much of our lives racing to get somewhere, striving to be more that I can hardly remember what it was like to be nothing more than an idea, existing just to speak for the lives that called themselves mine.’

France turns and catches England watching him, eyes searching and heavy, ‘Does that make sense?’ he asks him.

‘No,’ England’s answer is immediate, ‘no, and yes. The desire to be I understand, but I detested that age.’

France smiles at him, understanding masked by the dark. England does not, and never did, like being anything other than in perfect control of himself. Relinquishing that to someone else, even for his own benefit, has never been anything more than a horror.

‘Well,’ France says, ‘that is my choice. I liked being looked after and I have so much to do nowadays that it would be nice to have nothing to do once again. Nothing more than wander about my fields and see my people, or visit a northern barbarian across the sea.’

‘Don’t talk about Scotland that way, you’ll hurt his feelings.’

France laughs and reaches down to find England’s hand, open palmed and curled fingers by his side. He intertwines his own with it and brings them upwards, watching as together they cut across to block the light from his house and silhouette into a tangle of them both.

‘So,’ he says, running a thumb across the skin of England’s knuckle, ‘what era would you choose?’

England sighs, a light thing but France can hear a yearning there, ‘Any of the years I was at sea. The 1500’s when I was first starting out and even up to the 1700’s when things became more regimented- any of them. To be able to just get in a boat and go, no one knowing when I would come back or even where I was going.’

France shudders, the idea of being out in ocean that deep and so alone chilling him. For creatures that revive after death, who can wake again and again and again as long as there is a body to return to, the ocean is a lonely, painful place to die. To sink lifeless into murky depths, only to reawaken there in the dark press of salty sea; most nations avoided it as much as they could, wishing to avoid the long, drawn out death choked by waves and forgotten on the seafloor.

England never had such a healthy fear of the oceans. He went out into thunderous storms and monstrous waves as if enchanted, unable to resist the pull of something untamed. England sailed off as soon as he was able, going out for further and longer than anyone else dared and losing himself in the harsh life of the brine. He was a different creature far out at sea, something so strangely alive and perfectly at home for a man made from the soul of the mountains and land.

‘You always were a strange one for the macabre,’ France drops their hands back down and finds England once more looking at the sky, the reflection of stars glinting in his eyes.

‘The seas never change,’ his voice is quiet and distant, ‘some things do change, of course- the boats we sail on, how we do so. Things shift on the sea, the lands we travel to and from are washed away and changed with time but the sea itself is always the same. I appreciate it for that, it is predictably unpredictable. Constantly refusing the press of mankind by being the one thing we can never truly understand, for all of mankind’s new fancy gadgets.’

England gives a sudden, dry laugh, ‘I used to navigate the world by constellations, now I have to travel just to find some stars. To the highest peaks I have, or deep in my countryside to avoid as much light pollution as I can. But out at sea they are as they have always been, the same things I have watched and tracked for thousands of years. That is when I can just be as I have always been.’

The sky hangs overhead, speckled and bright and now, France notices, startlingly empty, ‘I often forget that they’re there,’ France speaks to the sky, ‘Funny, isn’t it? How something so fundamental can disappear and mankind not even notice. How odd to forget that stars are there, then to not notice they’re gone.’

‘We are cursed or blessed to remember what’s past,’ England offers, ‘which one depends on who we remember for.’

They lay in silence for a moment. France feels the collected years sit with him openly, laying on his chest and heart like tiny weights. The ground pushes against his back, firm and unmoving, and he breathes in deeply, smelling the heat of the summer in the air. He is here. He is now. He is. Still, after all this time. He watches.

To exist is to change, to live is to evolve and move with the flow of time, but France understands the want for something constant in the flood, something that stays recognisable and the same throughout the years. The older he gets, the more he yearns for it keenly.

‘You’ve gone and made things serious,’ he lifts himself back up on an elbow, England looking at him without moving his head, ‘just like you to take a light conversation and ruin it.’

England raises an eyebrow, “Oh the lies you tell yourself; they do amuse me.”

His French is accented with a Norman dialect, a gentle dig and refusal to fully let France have what he wants and France laughs at it, at this one unchanging constant he is stuck with. He leans down to kiss him, hair curling into England’s face and hiding what remains of the night sky.

----

AN: Every time I try writing one of these small drabbles, I start out with a particular idea and tone in mind but gosh darn it they never go where I intend for them to.

Today we have ended up with this, two old men talking themselves in circles in the summer grass.

[btsinwonderland]

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 1: The Beginning

A Loki fanfiction!

Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

---------------------------------

It’s your third week back in school and you're slumped over a tower of textbooks as some kind of makeshift pillow. Your head rests on the 394th page of “The Dream Oracle” where you’ve begun to drool. You raise a hand to wipe it away, which takes up nearly as much energy as trying to stay awake.

It was cold in the dark.

Chills ran up your arms, from your fingertips to your neck as you floated through the darkness. It was frightening the first few times you dreamt of it but now it was familiar. The cavern formed slowly as your eyes adjusted to the minimal light emitted by a fire below you. Small sticks and papers created a meager flame which reflected off the black pool of water you looked into. You always wondered who made the fire, but there was never anyone there.

In the centre of the cavern was a small lake, its ripples moved like serpents. On queue, your body flew over to the middle of the lake and dove in. You swam - more like sunk - to the bottom. It may have enveloped you in utter darkness, but you saw the glow. The bluish light of the object drew you in like a moth to a flame and you reached out for it. Once again, you were thrown out of the lake just as you were about to touch it.

You looked around at the empty cavern and noticed the shadows moving. This was new. Usually, you woke up as soon as the lake threw you out.

Near the shore, by a dangerous jut of rock, there was a man. He was tall, with raven black hair and a proud nose. His expression was one of wonder and fear. There was a green light that emerged from his hands and he waved this light in front of him and beside him, almost erratically, as if he was warning someone - or something - to stay away.

“Don’t come near me!” he shouted. It echoed through the cavern.

You came closer and recoiled at what he was speaking to. Every dark shadow was, in fact, a body. The green light that the man emitted showed their decaying, pale faces. These bodies moved towards him. Not a sound, but each expression was contorted painfully. Their bony hands reached out to him, and he threw a green ball of fire at them. Some flew backwards into the lake, but there were so many.

They surrounded him. You saw him put up the fight of his life, and yet they came closer still. Until he had nowhere to run. You reached out to try to help him, but your body was already being pulled away. The last thing you heard was him scream your name, “Freya!”

Hands slapped onto the desk, and your head bounced on the pages.

“My god, have you been sleeping here this whole time?” An annoyingly familiar voice said. “You wouldn’t believe it! They’re finally getting a replacement for Professor Rattowl.”

It took several seconds for you to remember where you were. You lifted your head and look into a pair of inquisitive brown eyes and an aloof expression.

Her hair was braided on the sides and drawn into a high ponytail. Her robes were wrinkled as usual. “Valkyrie, how did you find me in the Hufflepuff common room? I specifically told Thomas to throw you off.” Your voice was thick with sleep.

Valkyrie snorted. “Thomas is a fool for a flirty conversation. You’d think that boy had never had a wank before…”

The memory of the dream hit you, and your heart sank. “Valkyrie, I saw something.”

She glanced at you and then to the wall of the hallway. A long shadow approached swiftly. “Oh shit, the prefect!”

“Quick! Hide!” You said to Valkyrie, pointing her to the coat closet.

A gleaming head of blonde hair turned around the corner and walked towards you. His eyebrows were raised, and he adjusted his rectangular glasses, glaring at you. You tried not to look guilty.

“Eves, what are you doing? This is a quiet area, and I heard voices.” he walked around your desk, looking around suspiciously.

“I must have fallen asleep. I had a poor sleep last night so…”

“Hmmm,” he said, walking near the coat closet.

You held your breath as he reached for the brass door handle. “You know we don’t allow any other houses in our quarters, Eves.”

“Of course.”

He turned to you, reaching away from the handle. “Then you also should know we don’t condone dirtying the sacred pages of our texts,” he said, gesturing at your books with a frown. “Clean this up and head to the Great Hall. Headmistress Frigga has announcements to make.”

He left, adjusting his glasses again but with his shoulders straightened out as if he had done a good job. You wondered if he would pat himself in the back afterwards.

Valkyrie all but crashed out of the closet and mocked Gerald. “Sacred texts! What a prat.”

You chuckled as she took a chair beside you. “Sacred or not, this damned thing cost me twenty galleons!” You wiped the drool away with the sleeve of your robe. The inside was a warm yellow. You glanced at Valkyrie. “How do you keep sneaking into our common room?”

She winked at you with a mischievous smile. “I have my ways, my sweet innocent Hufflepuff darling,” she said, reaching out and patting you on the head. “I wouldn’t dare want to corrupt your purity with treasonous talk.”

You punched her in the arm. “You are a jock in the land of intellectuals,” you said with a smirk, glancing at her red and gold tie.

She linked her arm through yours and dragged you away from the desk. “Alright alright, miss intellectual, now that you’ve stopped drooling, let’s go eat.”

***

The great hall was washed in the warm light of the candles that hung beautifully in the air above you. It was a sight that had never ceased to amaze you, no matter how many times you saw it. The flames flickered in a soft dance. You followed the path of candles over to the head table where all your professors sat.

Professor Odinson was there, with his chiseled youthful face that made all the ladies, Valkyrie in particular, swoon. He was a handsome man, though he did not occupy your thoughts as often as he did for others. Beside him was Professor Sif, laughing humorously at something Professor Odinson said. Then there was Professor Fandral nodding and smiling at Professor Hogun - whom you guessed was discussing the riveting growth cycles of the mandrake.

Headmistress Frigga was in the middle, in her silvery blue robes with sequins sewn into intricate patterns. Her aura was one of a Queen, with a gentle and kind face. On her one side there was an empty seat and on the other side was Heimdall, the divination professor, with whom she was in a deep discussion with. His sunset coloured eyes drifted around the room before settling on you. He always knew. You smiled back and waved at him. He nodded, though his expression was strained, perhaps even troubled.

For a moment you wondered if he knew what you had dreamed. Heimdall was one of the greatest seers of your time, and you happened to be his favourite student. He already knew of your repetitive dreams regarding the cavern, but you needed to tell him about the strange development - and the mysterious man you saw. Most of the time your dreams were fuzzy, but you remembered his face with an aggressive lucidity. Blue eyes that reflected the green magic in his hands before they disappeared into darkness remained on your mind. You took a deep breath and pushed it away.

“Did they already do the first years?” You said aloud to your table.

Mo, a fellow seventh year Hufflepuff, nodded. “Yep, and I guessed about 25/30, not bad, eh?”

You smiled at him and turned around to Valkyrie, who was right behind you, seated at the Gryffindor table. She winked at you when delicious food marvellously populated the table and you all tucked in. She filled her plate and then roughly rocked Mo to the side and sat down beside you.

“What were you saying about Rattowl?” You said, biting into a chicken hand pie. The rich flavour of creamy peas and carrots filled your mouth, and you reveled in it for a brief moment.

Valkyrie had half a mouthful of sausage and chewed loudly. “Well, it’s been what? A month since he croaked?”

A Hufflpuff girl across from you both, Nila, balked at Valkyrie. “How can you say that? He was...killed.” She could barely say the last word.

Valkyrie gave her a look. “What? It don’t make no difference, does it?”

Nila huffed indignantly. Mo interjected. “Well, it’s not every day a professor disappears for three weeks, only to be found ripped apart in the Forbidden Forest.”

You all wrinkled your noses in a few seconds of awkward silence. He was right. It was a bizarre and terrible thing to have happened. You had no love for Professor Rattowl. He was a cranky old man with awful manners, but he did not deserve such a fate.

Valkyrie said, “Well I heard that the Headmistress’s son is going to be the new potions teacher.”

You raised your brows. “Professor Odinson has a brother?”

Valkyrie’s eyes lit up at the mention of him. “If there are two Thor Odinson’s, then I will die this very moment.”

You, Mo, and Nila rolled your eyes at her when the doors crashed open in an echoing sound. All the chatter in the Great Hall was silenced when a lean and tall figure in a black cloak strolled into the room. His languid pace revealed a streak of arrogance - or confidence - as he walked down the hall, towards the head table. He walked between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and slowly removed his hood.

You audibly gasped when you saw the raven haired man with his high cheekbones and proud nose. His blue eyes snapped towards you, and you felt your face heat up in seconds. He kept his eyes on you briefly before looking back at the head table. You breathed again once he was well past you.

Valkyrie looked at you questioningly. She whispered, “what’s going on?”

You could not take your eyes off of him and whispered back, “later.”

Everybody at the table rose, and Headmistress Frigga spoke with her wand pointed at her neck. “We will never forget our dear Professor Hubert Rattowl and the legacy he leaves here. The tragedy of his passing will remain a bitter memory in the long colourful history of Hogwarts. It has been a terrible time trying to fill this role, and our surprise guest has been gracious enough to accept our invitation. Professor Loki Laufeyson’s entrance may give you a taste into his exciting curriculum as the new Potions Master.” She gave him a warm smile.

He walked over to his seat and placed his hands on the table to look out at the students. There was something both inviting and dangerous about him. You could not look away.

He smiled widely and raised his hands. “Your potions saviour is here!”

The students clapped and eventually broke into applause. The Slytherin table was particularly ecstatic. There was no mistaking what house he belonged to. He looked at every table with a wide grin, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. They rested on you and your heart stopped. They flickered away, and he moved on before sitting down as the Headmistress continued her announcements.

Your hands were still clasped together in mid clap as you looked at the same man that was in your dream. His screams echoed in your mind and you wondered if this was all a nightmare. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting semester.

[captcas]

Trucks, Tenders, and Tying the Knot

Claire plays wingwomen for Uncle Cas while watching the trucks. Prompt from this tweet. read on ao3

Castiel is already planning the next six days in bed from a god awful migraine as the loud whir of what might be a front loader clashes with the sound of a jack hammer.

But Claire loves trucks.

And Castiel has the hardest time saying no to his six-year old niece so obviously— despite it being 90 degrees in the shade and the obnoxious amount of noise— they’re sitting outside watching a construction site.

Cas wishes he could say it wasn’t his best (only) option for his Saturday night. But, when Meg begged him for a night off, he didn’t even hesitate. He owes his adopted sister more than he’d care to admit and Claire really is one of his favorite humans.

So, again, they’re watching the trucks.

Pointing curiously at all the different types of trucks, Claire asks Cas to name them off, but Cas truly couldn’t guess the different names for these things if his life depended on it. At first he tried Googling the answers, but Claire’s patience waned so he started just making them up instead.

It’ll only be a problem for him once his adoptive-sister is fielding phone calls from kindergarten when Claire calls an Excavator a “Whoozitkabob”.

It’ll be very hard for Cas not to laugh.

After a while of watching the free (loud) show, Cas realizes it really is 90 degrees and they should probably be keeping hydrated.

This is why Castiel isn’t a parent.

They walk out of the nearby Starbucks a few minutes later, Cas with an iced coffee and Claire with her Vanilla Bean Frappuccino which Cas had to convince her was just a milkshake with a fancy name . He glances down at his niece who is now enthusiastically guzzling the beverage down as though she wasn’t almost in tears about it minutes prior.

Kids, man.

As they reapproach the construction site and their front row seats, Claire stops walking and Cas almost trips trying to stop with the same abruptness.

“Phewwww, I don’t know what he’s fixing but mines broken.” Cas chokes on his coffee before following her gaze to the man in question.

Damn.

“Claire— where did— nevermind—“ Cas knows where Claire heard that, his sister never being subtle with her sexual innuendos despite the impressionable nature of her kid. The most impressive part is Claire is… not wrong.

Flustered by the comment and whether he should tell her objectifying men is not a good look but also by his extreme want to objectify the same man that made Claire stop in her tracks, Castiel just stands there.

And then he stares.

Because damn.

He thinks Leonardo Da Vinci may have been a time traveler because when he described the perfect man he must have been talking about this man. Strong arms, broad chest, bow legs, sandy hair, a smile to power the Chrysler Building, freckles for day, and the greenest eyes Castiel has ever seen even from this far away. He’s dressed a little nicer than most of the workers so Castiel reasons that he must be the contractor or project lead but holy shit can he wear a flannel and jeans.

Tight jeans.

Maybe they can watch the trucks for a bit longer.

Before Castiel can realize what’s happening, Claire is pulling him in the direction of said man. As much as he knows he shouldn’t let a six-year-old wander toward an active construction site he also knows he would never have the guts to approach the man otherwise. He does a quick sweep to make sure there aren’t any Thingamahoozies around and that there’s a fence and decides they’re probably fine walking closer.

As long as his heart doesn’t beat straight out of his chest.

“Hey, Mister. Whatcha fixing?” Claire is yelling as she runs toward the guy who at first looks a little taken aback by the precocious child hurtling towards him but then he notices Cas and breaks into a wide smile that practically knocks Castiel onto the ground.

He reminds himself that the contractor is just happy this kid is supervised and that he is entirely imagining the way the man’s jaw slacked at the sight of Castiel.

Now that he’s drawn to them, Castiel knows he’ll be picturing those lips every time he closes his eyes for the foreseeable future.

The man is laughing and shaking Claire’s hand through the chain-link fence and Castiel realizes he’s staring again. He approaches the two of them, and apparently they’re fast friends, because Claire introduces him, “Oh, there you are. This is Dean!”

Dean .

Cas smiles what he hopes is a normal smile because he feels like he’s lost all control of himself being in this man– Dean’s presence. Somehow his brain tells him to reach out his hand and before he knows it, their fingers are intertwined and he’s speaking, “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

Then he stares some more but maybe Dean doesn’t mind because he’s staring right back and it’s giving Castiel all the time in the world to study every fleck of gold etched into the summer green of this man’s eyes. In no time at all he moves onto the constellation of freckles that are patterning his cheeks which, if Castiel isn’t mistaken, are starting to red in a blush that may be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen– Claire aside.

Oh yeah, Claire.

Castiel reluctantly lets go of the man’s hand when Claire snaps them out of their trance, “We need you to fix whatever we’ve got broken.”

Oh, fantastic, now he’s mortified.

But Dean doesn’t bat an eye, in fact he throws his head back in laughter and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Castiel’s ears and he swears if he could he would spend a lifetime trying to hear that laugh everyday.

Dean glances at Castiel’s left hand– not subtle at all – and then looks towards Claire fondly, “Is that what your dad said?” Castiel doesn’t have time to focus on the fact Dean thinks Claire is his because if he thought his mind was reeling from Dean’s check of his marital status then it’s absolutely worthless when the man looks back towards him and winks.

Carve up his tombstone because Castiel is a goner.

Claire, apparently completely unaware of the absolute stupor she’s put her uncle in, continues chatting, “Oh, he’s not my dad, that’s my uncle, Cas.”

“Cas.” Dean looks like he’s mulling the nickname over like an award winning wine and then he smiles. “Well, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you and your uncle Cas.”

Claire beams before gasping loudly, “OH MY GOD, UNCLE CAS! IT’S A ZINGAMAHOOEY!”

Send that tombstone via express mail because Castiel just died of embarrassment.

Dean’s face screws into something too cute to be legal and he shoots a glance at Castiel, clearly looking for an explanation. Somehow Castiel finds words, “She kept asking what they were called and I’m clueless.”

Cas could swear Dean’s eyes twinkle before speaking again, “Well maybe I could teach you… uh… over dinner?”

“Oh yes please! I love chicken tenders!” Claire, apparently paying attention again, chimes in.

Cas is about to object but then Dean laughs again and says, “Of course! I know the best spot for chicken tenders.”

With Claire satisfied and looking again at the construction site, Dean looks back toward Cas with nervousness etched across his face, “Is— uh— I mean— if you want to..”

He can’t help but enthusiastically put the man out of his misery, “I’d love to.”

And they do.

A week later they’re munching on burgers and chicken tenders listening to Dean talk about all the different kinds of trucks and Claire try and tell him he’s wrong because Uncle Cas said.

And if Cas thought the night couldn’t have possibly gotten better, Dean drops off Claire first and walks him to the door and kisses him goodbye with the promise of another dinner— just them two.

Dean keeps his promise and a million promises... including the biggest promise of their lives with the tiniest Maid of Honor by their side.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

So many of those smut prompts sound like our favorite asshole, Nathan Bateman. So let’s do smut #12 with Nathan pleeeasee.

Oh, I love writing Nathan Bateman, I do not do it very often so let me know what you think. Thank you for the request lovely. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking! 

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + (Language, Oral F! Receiving (Explicit), Nathan Bateman) 

Word Count: 2K

My Masterlist

Prompt # 12 “The food looks great, but…there’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now.” - Nathan Bateman.

Seven days. It had been seven days since you’d see Nathan Bateman, and he fucking lived here. He was like a ghost, haunting the hallways while you slept, leaving dirty dishes in the sink and empty bottles of alcohol in the trash bin. Besides those small things, you wouldn’t know anyone was in the house besides yourself.

You had to get out of this house. You went to the closet and got out your brown hiking boots and changed into your fleece leggings and a sweater, tugging your rain jacket on over it. It was lightly misting outside, and you enjoyed taking deep breaths of the fresh air and the melodies of nature. The sweet coo of the birds and the snap of branches as animals scurried into their burrows.

Your backpack slung over your shoulder held a delicious picnic lunch for you to enjoy at the glacier towards the end of the trail. Fresh cut apples, with a dip made of Greek yogurt, peanut butter, and honey, a baguet piled high with prosciutto, mozzarella, and arugula, a large brownie filled with peanut M&M’s a personal favorite. It felt good to be making something just for yourself.

Cooking for Nathan usually meant green smoothies, chicken, and rice, things that would keep him trim. Although he did love your brownies. You frowned, thinking of your boss and what the past year was like living here in the wilderness, so far from civilization. After his ‘incident’ with one of his inventions nearly killing him, he’d hired you to become a housekeeper/assistant. Although he never required you to do any assistant work, unless it included dictation. But he spoke so fast he usually just turned on the text to speech anyways.

This had been the longest he’d gone without seeing you, and it concerned you greatly. If it weren’t for the empty dishes, you’d think he was dead in the lab. The thought turning your stomach sour of a world without Nathan Bateman. No, he was not ideal. He was an asshole most of the time, always needing to get the last word and prove his intelligence. You’d told him one night that it wasn’t a competition after he’d interrupted you again with some obscure fact. He’d just smirked and told you everything was.

You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him over the past week. Living so isolated and away from everyone made you depend on each other more for human interaction. Almost every night after dinner, he would sit at the counter nursing a drink and talk to you about his work. Most of it went over your head, but it was the time he took to speak to you that mattered. When you’d first arrived, he spent most of the time ignoring you unless he absolutely needed you.

You keep walking further and further down the trail smiling at the night that changed it all. You’d been on the couch in the living room, rain splattering against the windowpane, a fire warming the room—the TV showing your favorite romantic comedy, When Harry Met Sally. Nathan had come into the kitchen for another beer and was walking back to the lab when he heard moaning sounds coming from the living room. He’d quickly come to sit down next to you, pulling the blanket draped over you across his lap to share, eyes transfixed on the TV.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, looking at you, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, she told him that women fake orgasms sometimes, and men can’t tell. He said he could tell, so she is pretending to have an orgasm in the middle of the restaurant.”

He laughs, and it shocks you as you both turn back to the screen, watching Sally slam her hands down on the table and scream out her climax. He stayed for the entire movie, pulling the bowl of popcorn between the two of you and taking handfuls. When your hands touched both, reaching into the bowl, he froze and quickly withdrew his hand.

The touch had been eclectic, and you swore you could still feel the tingles today, the zings traveling up your arm. His commentary during the movie had you laughing harder than the movie. He watched you, eyes beaming as you snorted and were almost in tears, his smile stretched across his face. It was at that moment you’d realized you’d never seen someone more handsome in your life.

You shook your head and kept walking. It wasn’t right to have those feelings for your boss. But it was hard not to when things changed so much after that night. Movie nights became a weekly thing; he’d stayed after dinner to talk, you’d been on several hikes together, he became more. You fell in love with him, and it fucking sucked.

You reach the glacier and take a moment to appreciate the view. The sun hitting the side of the ice, making it almost appear blue to the eye. The water crashing over the bottom, the cool air brushing against your face. You sit down your pack, pull out the blanket you’d brought, the one from the couch you used to sit under with Nathan, and lay it out. Sitting in the middle and taking out your lunch containers and novel to enjoy for the few hours of fresh air you desperately needed.

“So this is where you ran off too,” Nathan’s voice surprises you from behind, and you toss the apple slice in your hand in the air with a yelp. “Jesus Nathan!” you shout, “Did you have to sneak up on me?”

“I can’t help it if your unobservant,” he chastises playfully, “What the hell are you doing out here? You never go on hikes without me.”

You look at him incredulously, “Did you forget that I haven’t seen you in seven days?!” You can’t help the way your voice cracks, and he locks his eyes on your quivering lip.

“I-I,” he never stumbles over his words, and you look at him in shock, “I’m sorry, alright?”

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly. He takes a seat beside you on the blanket and looks out over the landscape, nodding.

“Yeah, I just- I just needed to figure some things out. But,” he turns to you, “I know what I need to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

He ignores you and reaches for the container with the sandwich pulling it out, smooshing it between his hands, and pulling it in for a bite. The little bit of mayonnaise dribbles down his beard, and you reach forward without thinking to brush it off with your thumb. You keep his eyes as you move the finger to your lip and lick it off. He clears his throat and puts down the sandwich reaching for an apple slice and slipping it into the dip.

You watch his eyes close around the first heavenly bite, and you bite your lip at the look of pure ecstasy on his face. “What do you think?” you ask, grinning.

He opens his eyes and reaches for another slice and slathering it in the dip before popping the whole thing in his mouth and sucking the rest of his finger. “The food looks great, but...there’s something much more delicious I’d rather eat right now.” He turns his head to look at you, and the air is sucked from your lungs. There is a hunger growing in his russet eyes, and it’s not from your lunch.

“What- what d-do you m-mean?” now you are one stumbling over your words, and he smirks. He takes his time repacking the containers and clearing the blanket before he reaches for you. He scoots himself closer and puts both hands around the sides of your neck, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Do you want to know what I had to figure out this week?” he asks quietly, and you nod, clinging to his every word. “I needed to figure out a way to tell you I want to be with you.”

“Y-you mean more than my b-boss?” you stutter.

He chuckles darkly, “Well, you can still call me sir, but not because I pay you,” he teases, and you bite your lip, chewing on it. His eyes are drawn to it, and he uses his thumb and pulls it from your teeth and down. “I want to kiss you,”  he whispers deeply, “okay, Kitten?”

“Oh god, yes, please,” you groan, shutting your eyes and leaning forward.

He chuckles and pulls you close, “you called,” he teased and slotted his mouth over yours, his beard brushing against your face, softer than your expected. The smell of bergamot drifting over you, the beard oil you bought him for his birthday. He licks against your bottom lip, and you open, allowing your tongues to wrestle. His hands leaving your neck and pushing your shoulder down gently so he can straddle you. His forearms braced on either side of your head, his nose brushing against yours.

His lips travel down to your neck, and his hands move over your coat, sliding the zipper down and pulling it open. His mouth presses hot wet kisses against your collarbone, and you throw your head back and moan as he kneads your breast through the sweater. “Fuck,��� he whispers, moving lower and sliding past your breasts. He nips at you through the fabric, and your buck up into him. Your hands gliding over his shoulders so broad in his coat.

He hovers over you, looking into your eyes with lust blown pupils. His hand reaching towards your bottoms. You nod, and he begins shimmying them down your hips, along with your panties. He watches your pussy wet and dripping like it’s a Monet in an art museum, and he runs a thick finger between your folds.

When he hears your soft whimpers, his eyes travel up to you, and he keeps your eye contact as he dips his head forward and licks broad strokes through your cunt. His mouth latches onto your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, causing your hips to rise. “Nathan,” you moan, “please,” you beg, and he pulls off with a pop.

“I’m just trying to enjoy this delicious picnic you packed for me Kitten, don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” He smiles as you throw your head back as he teases a finger at your entrance before sliding it inside you and curving gently. His tongue goes back to teasing your clit, sucking it, and nipping lightly, never enough to be painful.

He slowly drags his finger in and out of you, drawing out the pleasure before he adds a second finger. Your fingers slip beneath your sweater and pull on your nipple with your left hand. The right coming down to keep his head down on your clit. When he adds a third finger and begins to circle your clit with his tongue, you feel the dam break. The pleasure coursing through you is almost drowned out by the crashing water below.

He lets you ride it out until you groan and push at his head and pull him up to your lips. He tangles his tongue with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulls away with a proud smile on his face, his beard glistening in your juices. “How was that?” he asks.

You let out a laugh and smile, “Fucking amazing,” you pant attempting to catch your breath, “Are you going to fuck me, Mr. Bateman?” He sighs before rolling off you and to your side, interlacing your fingers with his own and looking at the blue sky above you.

“Eventually,” he turns his head and looks at you, “I am going to fuck you on every single square inch of that house, and then when I’m done, I’m going to do it again.” He sits up and pulls your leggings back up, and buttons them shut, making sure you’re warm. “But right now,” he reaches for you and tucks you into his side, pressing his lips on your forehead, “I am going to enjoy a day out with you. I’ve fucking missed you this week.”

You smile and reach an arm across his chest and place your head on his chest, “Oh Nathan, I really missed you too.”

Taglist:  @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @lunarthoughts @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @jedi-mando @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @spacelatinoss @paintballkid711 @bisexual-space-slut @marvelprincess1994 @martellthemandalor @thirstworldproblemss @kesskirata @dreamer-101 @waatermelon-sugaar@santiagogarcia @mariesackler @spider-starry @demoncrypt1066 @blufanfictionthings @itspdameronthings 

[votederpycausemufins]

God i love the trope of people who have animal traits going feral. So writing Grian is fun. I just realized that one time Grian said ‘I am the embodiment of twitch chat’ could imply those voices. i meant, it’s a stretch, but eh, whatever.

@petrichormeraki

Tommy hated how soon they were already gathered, preparing for another war. Hermitcraft was safe, the only wars were simply fun between friends. But now it was just like back on the smp. “I’ve got my disc box ready.” Tommy put the shulker in his inventory, looking over at Mumbo. “What about you?”

“I’m not really the best at these fights, so I’m just geared up and hoping I don’t die helping people out of here.”

“Help people out? What, are some of the hermits chickening out?” Tommy joked to lighten the mood, but it didn’t help.

“No. No one is going to just run off during all this. Grian’s our friend, practically family. But plenty of the people from your old world have been visiting. And with how you’ve talked about them, I doubt all of them will leave even though they should. And… Xisuma isn’t here. I don’t know how its supposed to work, but if he’s not here, we might not respawn.”

Tommy felt his blood run cold. He hadn’t thought of that. He could actually die. It had been so long since he was worried, having only one canon life left. He remembered Xisuma telling him he had ten, and every time he asked if a death counted, the admin said it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t until election 2 that he thought it had to be canon when he finally realized that he was never going to run out of lives. No one was. But now he could. 

“Well, I know them best. I should probably help with that.”

“You’re a better fighter, if either of us is going after Grian, it should be you.”

“Look, how about we just both fly over there now and help get people out, and when the fighting starts, we fly back to give whoever was already fighting a break.” Tommy suggested, and Mumbo reluctantly agreed.

Grian was flying towards a new island, one he knew was going to have everyone that wasn’t supposed to be there. Maybe Tommy will be there too. No way, he’ll be after Grian. But some of those people were his friends, right? Don’t you remember, Tommy said they abandoned him, exiled him. He forgave Tubbo easily. That’s different. How? Oh shit what’s that. Did Grian build that? AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!

Grian stopped listening and actually focused on the portal that had appeared in front of him. He hadn’t made it, especially since he didn’t have anyone to put there. So he tried to fly around it. It disappeared thankfully, but another appeared. Tubbo did say that cat was Tommy’s friend too. That was a cat? We could go and bring her back out. She might know where Tommy is! Oh that’s true! Grian dived into the portal.

“Oh look who finally dragged themselves home. It’s Xelqua.” Grian looked for the voice, then glared at them.

“You know I haven’t used that name since I was in your world Lynn.” Grian ruffled his feathers before preening them.

“Duck meat.”

“Mystic bitch.”

“Seed breath.”

“Rabbit freak.”

“Feather fart.”

“Pa-” “Grian, Lynn. Calm yourselves.” Grian stopped his insult to look at who approached.

“Sorry Zloy.” Grian said, rolling his eyes and then sticking his tongue out at Lynn.

“I saw that.”

“I know you did! What don’t we see?” Grian crossed his arms. Can he really boss you around like that? That dude is big. Bet you could- Grian shook his head to get those pesky voices to shut up. “Why am I here?”

“Pin was really upset that you left so early. Noah’s the only one that didn’t mind, but obviously you should have stayed longer.” Zloy spoke in a disapproving tone.

“Hey, Tommy is my brother. If Gxrgeous didn’t let things get this bad-” Grian started to complain, but Zloy cut him off.

“She doesn’t want to interfere like the rest of us.”

“Oh but Noah, Goof and Pin can? I’m a watcher because they interfered. You get more watchers by interfering.”

“And what, did you want Tommy to be one too?”

Grian felt his feathers puff up with agitation. “No! Of course not. I’m just saying she could have stopped things before they got to children being put in wars!”

“And here you are making more.” Lynn taunted Grian, making him even angrier.

“They started it by showing up in the first place to take Tommy! I only broke my promise to save him!”

“And what about now?” Zloy asked, drawing Grian’s attention back to him. “Why continue it?”

“Contin- What are you talking about? What, is Gxrgeous upset I’m helping out where she failed?”

“Pixlriffs, did you open up a window yet?” There was an answer of affirmation and suddenly Grian was staring into a watcher portal.

“And den we went to space! And dere were impastas and I got ta be one wit my dad, and we killed everyone and Sprinklez was so happy!” Crumb explained to Xisuma. The admin nodded along, half paying attention as he tried once more to access his admin panels and get them out of there.

“X! Where are we?!” Xisuma looked up and then around until he saw Iskall getting closer, falling from above with one of their other guests, Hbomb.

“I have no clue. I’m not getting any readings and I can’t access any admin panels to get us out of here.”

“Hey! You guys are my dad’s friends!” Crumb recognized Iskall, though she had only briefly seen him, and the other guy looked familiar, so that must have been who Sparklez said they just found. “We’ve been falling forever and it, well it was getting a little lonely but now we can share more stories!”

“Well, based on what was going on, might be something to do with Watchers with how Grian was looking. Though he was going to kill me when we saw him.”

“I have absolutely no clue what’s going on.” Hbomb spoke up, hoping the other three would have some explanation for him. Okay maybe just the two hermits, he wasn’t completely sure how much he would get out of Crumb.

“What does he mean with how I was looking? I’m just trying to hang out with my family!” Grian argued, making Zloy look a little confused.

“Grian, you started using your watcher powers to attack people. You threw those four in a Watcher portal, but as there is no new world prepared yet, they’re stuck in a place where no world exists.”

“What? But, I mean while I have trouble controlling myself when I’m using my watcher powers, I can remember everything once I’m a little more lucid. I mean, you remember the explosion.”

“Of course, Pixlriffs ran to me as soon as he noticed it was happening. Do you really not remember this going on?” Grian shook his head. “That’s not good. And we can’t look into it much if you’re here, so we’ll have to send you back.”

“Zloy, if you have to interfere, don’t let people get hurt.” Grian suddenly felt small and nervous, scared for his friends' safety. “And please, try not to let me go too haywire.”

“We can try, but until we know what’s going on…”

“I get it. But you better get Gxrgeous’ help too since this involves them now.”

“We will.”

Another portal appeared and Grian recognized the world of Hermitcraft on the other side. He didn’t want to go through, but if he didn’t now, he might never get to return. So he stepped through. Do you really think they know what they’re doing? Yoooo it was Zloy. Are you new, we’ve seen him before. We still need to keep Tommy safe, right? Hey Philza logged in. The dadza! Dadzaaaaaa. Guys, now I want pizza. What if he takes Tommy? Oh yeah, he shouldn’t be here either. Infinity portal time guys.

Grian sped up his flying, more determined to reach the island now.

Tommy was surprised to see a familiar avian as he and Mumbo landed on the island. “Phil? What are you doing here?”

The hardcore player looked surprised to see Tommy so soon. “I’m actually here for you Tommy. What’s going on?”

“Grian’s gone crazy and is apparently attacking people. I’m here to help get people back to the smp with Mumbo.” He moved to push Philza back through the portal. “So now is like the worst time for a visit.”

“Feels like it’s more of a perfect time to bring you back.”

Tommy, who was more focused on helping everyone else, suddenly looked over at Philza. “What? No, I’m staying! I’m staying right here! You should understand that! I’m going to help Grian! Just because you didn’t have him for like 15 years or something, doesn’t mean he’s not family!”

Philza grabbed Tommy’s arm. “And that’s exactly why you should come back. I saw him start going on a rampage because of you. What if this is just some of the same?”

Tommy shook his head. “That could just mean me leaving could make it worse.”

“Guys! I know your argument must be very fascinating, but I’m pretty sure that’s Grian flying towards us!” Mumbo yelled to get their attention and Philza and Tommy looked up to where the redstoner was pointing, Grian indeed flying towards them. 

Tommy yanked his arm away and started to pull out his shulker box when purple energy formed around the watcher avian and suddenly he was gone. Tommy’s eyes scanned the sky until a yell came from right behind him. When the blond turned, he had to crane his neck up to see the form Grian had taken. He looked like something out of stories he heard from one of the hermits. Angels with multiple wings and eyes covering them. Tommy could tell it was Grian, but at the same time, he didn’t.

“Dear lord.” Tommy heard Mumbo mumble. Grian was holding Philza in talons as a portal slowly formed made mostly of bedrock. Though Tommy was upset at his dad, he still didn’t want anything to happen to him. Fortunately the hardcore player could handle himself and stabbed Grian. He dropped to the ground and lost his health, but not knowing where that portal would lead, it was a better option. 

Tommy ran to his dad, ready to defend him, but the Watcher’s attention was drawn by another smp member who was trying to get to the infinity portal. With a swipe of a wing, Grian pushed the smp member into his own portal. A moment later he was going after someone else.

“Tommy, He’s after people from the smp.” Philza realized. “He’s going to go after you.”

Tommy didn’t want to believe it, but he knew the communicators didn’t work between worlds. That’s why they couldn’t find Xisuma or Tubbo. “Then let him, Tubbo’s gone. He’s got to be in there too.”

“No Tommy. If he’s after us, he won’t stop until we’re all gone. If you want to help Grian, you have to come home!” Tommy was pulled to look his father in the eyes. He hadn’t seen Philza look this scared in ages. And he was probably right. 

“Okay fine. Let’s go back.” Tommy nodded, and then followed his dad towards the infinity portal. Right before they could reach it, Grian noticed and dropped the person he was holding to go after Tommy, but before he could reach them, they had gone through.

The moment they got to the other side, Tommy regretted his decision. “What’s Dream doing here? Why isn’t he in the vault.”

“Tommy, come on, don’t be so harsh.” Dream spoke, trying to seem like no threat, but Tommy knew better and drew his weapon. “You came back with your dad, so as promised I won’t be too harsh on you.”

Tommy inhaled sharply, turning to look at Phil. “You were working with him?! Grian’s back there and you thought that bringing me back to Dream was going to be better than me helping my brother?!”

“Tommy, he-”

“I don’t want to hear it! I’m sick of trusting you! You always say you’re going to be there for me, but then you turn around and work with someone who’s going to hurt me.”

“Tommy, I’m your friend, I won’t-”

“Shut up green bitch. I’m going back!”

“No, you’re not going back Tommy. Once everyone comes back from visiting that little vacation world of yours, we can close the portal.” Dream spoke, sounding much too confident on something that wouldn’t be happening.

“Then we’ll have to close it now. If they haven’t come in now, they’re not coming through.”

Dream chuckled. “Oh I’m sure they’ll come through. I’ve got someone over there to bring them to the portal.”

“Kinda hard if Grian already got to them.” Tommy crossed his arms. “He’s tossing them in some weird bedrock portal and they’re disappearing. Unless Tubbo came back here.”

Dream stopped. That wasn’t supposed to be happening. “No, they were supposed to be put back through the infinity portal.”

It took a bit for Tommy’s mind to comprehend what Dream meant before he jumped to attack the former admin. “What the fuck did you do to Grian?! This is your fault, isn’t it?! Tubbo’s gone because of you!”

“It’s fine.” Dream gritted out. “He… the watcher messed with you. Saving you when you were falling. Ranboo didn’t have enough of his signature on him, but you. You’ve got to be around him all the time. I can use that.” Tommy tried to run, but Dream anticipated it. “Philza, grab him.”

Raven wings trapped Tommy. He turned around to yell at his dad, but there was just a blank look on his face. “What the fuck are you doing to my family?!” Tommy yelled, trying to escape the wings on his own with little luck.

“I’m just going to make sure everyone comes home and then we can go back to how things were before you ran away. And what better way to do that then to use the power of a Watcher.” Tommy wanted to argue again, but the handle of an axe crashed against his head, and the world went dark.

[heretic-altias]

Still thinking about chocobos, I’ve always seen them as a fusion between horses and chickens as someone with experience with both animals, so have some fun headcanons. Below a cut bc my list is long. Feel free to add on, I’d imagine some stuff from larger birds like emus and ostriches would make nice additions but my family doesn’t own ostriches, we own chickens so that’s what I know about.

- Despite the ingame sleeping model for them laying down, they probably sleep standing up like horses most of the time and just lay down sometimes. Roosting would be a bit impractical for birds this big lol. That being said, they are built much better for laying down and getting back up than horses so they could potentially lay down more often than horses do. They'd certainly sit on a nest if they're brooding eggs, so honestly any amount of laying down you headcanon probably would make sense anyway. They probably mostly lay down to sunbathe, chickens do that irl.

- Chocobos dust bathe bathe like chickens do. It’s very cute.

- There are competitions other than racing for them, maybe similar to horse shows irl. Imagine a chocobo cross country jumping course or chocobo dressage, or for western riding reining or barrel racing (I suggest YouTubing/Googling any of these you don’t know to see what they are)

- Chocobo breeds can vary. Some are bred for riding or driving purposes more like irl horses while others are bred for egg laying or meat (I could never eat one, but in world people probably do unless it’s a cultural Nope) more like chickens are. Some are also bred for interesting color combinations. You should absolutely google different chicken breeds and imagine chocobos with those feathers, I especially like the ones with poofy head feathers. Since chocobos ingame have even more colors than I’ve seen in chickens though, I’ll dip into my knowledge of parrots too and suggest those as color ideas as well. My family has a blue and gold macaw, African gray, and my little black capped conure, all of which would look fantastic as chocobo colors in my opinion. Anything is possible really, not just the solid colors we get ingame or specific irl birds.

- Much like a lot of irl kids go through a ‘horse phase’, lots of eorzean kids go through a ‘chocobo phase’ where they’re absolutely obsessed. Those who discover it’s not just a phase like myself are the ones who will work with chocobos for life, be it as a hobby or career path.

- Chocobos aren’t as bad as chickens with their pecking order, but even horses might clash a little when first introduced. Turn out groups are planned pretty carefully. Between hens mostly though, see further down for why roosters are Problematic.

- There are trail ride places that offer chocobo rides for people with 0 experience. Much like irl, this causes people to insist it’s easy to ride them bc they ‘did it once on vacation’ or 'took a chocobo porter once'

- You cannot geld a bird. To my knowledge anyway, and honestly I don’t really want to know how if I’m wrong lol. This means male chocobos are like roosters. Rooster chocobos probably have the longer fancier looking tail feathers, and probably longer fancier feathers on their head too since the ingame model has a little crest there. They also have spurs. Roos are way meaner than hens usually, so most casual riding birds are probably hens. Some show circuits might not even allow roos to enter. It also means you can only keep one roo with a group of hens usually unless it’s a really big group. Roosters irl can be ok together if there are no hens, and the grand companies probably do this since roos would have the spurs to better attack with in battle. Probably a specific breed of chocobo, bred for well tempered roos to ride into battle. They’d still have to check who they’re turning out with who carefully to make sure they get along, but it is doable. So casual riding birds, mostly hens, war birds, mostly roos. People with very large pastures might keep a roo with their hens for protection though.

- Some breeds of hen might get broody fairly often. It means they’ll sit on eggs or in a nest if there are no eggs bc they really wanna hatch some. They’re probably brats and near impossible to ride unless you manage to drag them out of their nest so they’re on their feet. Some people dunk their chicken’s butt in cold water to try and break the broodiness irl, but with a chocobo you’d probably need to just take a hose and spray it bc they’re too big to dunk. I’d imagine the broody breeds aren’t really the riding breeds though, they’re probably used for hatching eggs laid by the desired breed. They probably breed for less broodiness in riding bird breeds.

- Roosters absolutely crow. I doubt it would sound exactly like an irl rooster, some loud drawn out variation of the kweh or the little whistle sound they make maybe? I’ll leave the exact sound of it up to your imagination. Good luck sleeping on the chocobo farm.

- Just like chickens I don't think theres really a way to tell a roo from a hen on hatch until they grow their feathers in and start to crow. Unless you get a specific breed that you can tell at birth, but most chickens it's a wait and see thing. We've got two chicks rn that my family is praying to the irl genetic rng gods to be girls since we can't keep them if they're roos. I'm sure similar situations have arisen hatching chocobos before, where someone can only keep the chick if it turns out to be a hen. Potential for a Tragic Backstory if your character raised and bonded with a chick that turned out to be a roo and had to give it up.

- They probably grow at a rate closer to horses than chickens. This could really be head cannoned either way, so feel free to say they grow as fast as chickens or ostriches or something if you wanna but as riding animals this just feels too fast in my opinion. That means you probably won't be saddling your chocobo till it's at least 3 or so. Egg incubation however is probably closer to birds since horses don't lay eggs. Chickens take 21 days to incubate and hatch, google says ostriches and emus take closer to the 40-50 day range and personally that longer time feels better to me since they're much larger than chickens. Looks like there was an ostrich fact in here after all huh.

- Lifespan is probably closer to horses, chickens don't actually live very long. Horses can live 25-30 years. I knew one that lived to be well over 30 though, so there are exceptions.

- If a baby chick is raised without a mother hen irl, they need to be raised in a pair or larger group or they'll get lonely as flock animals. With our chickens, the sibling they were raised with is usually their best buddy and they'll stick together when out free ranging fairly often. Chocobos are probably like this too. Horses are also herd animals and prefer to be kept in groups usually, so really it just makes sense for chocobos to be flock oriented.

- Paddocks and/or stalls probably need a big nest box type setup for the birds to lay their eggs in. But I doubt all chocobo breeds lay year round. Second ostrich fact, google says they only lay during breeding season. Chocos not bred for laying might work more like this, but I could see it varying based on breed. Most chickens actually stop producing eggs entirely when they're older, unless they're death layers. That's a specific type of chicken that'll lay for their entire life.

This is all I can think of for now, will add more if I think of anything else. I'm open to questions about horses or chickens if people want information for their own headcanons. I'm no expert, but my family keeps chickens and I own a horse so I at least have experience working around both that others out there might not have. Don't ask me about ostriches though. Find an ostrich farmer for that.

[myherowritings]

Fact or Fiction?

— “OKAY get this : pro hero bakugou & pro hero reader are shipped by literally everyone bc it’s painfully obvious that the boy likes her & people keep tagging him in n*fw stories abt reader & him & he reads one & literally cannot look at reader the same & she goes “you’re acting weird. oh no, did you read the fanfics?” because SHE HAS TOO. anyways they finally end up getting together & maybe n*fw???" by anonymous.

pairing: pro hero!bakugou x fem!reader word count: 3.0k genre: pro hero au, humor/crack, smut warnings: explicit language, masturbation (bakugou), imagined oral?, bakugou is just fucking horny y’all, 18+

a/n: tysm for the request! it’s not full on heavy fucking (i’m still warming up to writing that...so prob in my next smut fic hehe) and it’s more crack than smut lolol, but i hope you like it! [y/h/n = your hero name]

GROUND ZERO AND Y/H/N SPOTTED IN KANAGAWA PREFECTURE!

Bakugou rolled his eyes. That was the headline following a Pro Hero meeting at a neighboring ward just a few weeks ago. Of course you were spotted together. You were both Pro Heroes after all.

SECRET ROMANTIC GETAWAY?: GROUND ZERO AND Y/H/N CAUGHT HOLDING HANDS AT MOUNT MITAKE

He definitely was not holding your hand. You simply dropped your wallet--for someone so good on the field, you sure were rather clumsy--and he handed it back to you. Easy as that. It was only the angle of the photograph that made it look like your fingers were interlocked.

Y/H/N SPOTTED WITH A HICKEY AFTER HER DATE WITH GROUND ZERO

There were many issues with this headline.

For one, he did not take you out on a date. Deku invited you, Iida, and Bakugou out for dinner, but of course the paparazzi captured pictures of only the two of you, making it look like a one-on-one date.

And for two, there was no hickey anywhere in sight. You had simply banged your jaw on the table while reaching down for a spoon you dropped, causing a small bruise to form on the place your jawline met your neck.

(Besides, if Katsuki were to give you a hickey--which he wouldn’t even dream of--it sure as hell wouldn’t look as sloppy as that.)

GROUND ZERO PROPOSES TO Y/H/N?!

Now this one was just bullshit.

TOP 5 HOTTEST “GROUND Y/H/N” STORIES YOU NEED TO READ

Bakugou froze at the last headline, cautiously eyeing the link before scoffing in both curiosity and disgust and exiting the window.

He knew what the article meant by stories. He was tagged in them more times than he could count. Plus, he wasn’t stupid-- Katsuki knew that people shipped his hero persona with yours and that some fans went a little overboard with the art and writing. But honestly, he didn’t pay that much mind.

In fact, he gave little to no fucks about what people chose to do in their free time, but tagging you and him in them and commenting links for you to see? That was a different story. Doing so was obnoxious and revolting and if he ever found out someone made you uncomfortable by exposing you to a the obscenity, he would make sure they suffer the consequences.

He hoped you didn’t see any of that shit in your lifetime and he sure as hell didn’t want to either.

So, of course, the universe heard his plea and decided to give him the exact opposite.

“Can’t you people fucking keep these to yourselves?” growled Bakugou when the first thing he saw as he logged onto his social medias were notifications of tags and links to obscene creations on his page.

There were drawings of him and Deku, him and Uravity, and even him and the half-and-half bastard. But the overwhelming majority of the pictures were of him and Y/H/N. Some of the art was normal enough and most of them were incredibly well drawn and pure. But a handful of them were--to put it nicely--lewd as fuck.

And Katsuki couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty was his eyes wandered from the exposed swell of your breasts to the curves of your hip and lower to the smooth expanse of…

He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his phone onto his sofa with a disgusted snort. Even though it was only a drawing, he felt terrible for indulging in it like that.

“Dammit, Katsuki,” he scolded himself, running his fingers through his hair as he tried not to picture how you really looked underneath your hero costume.

Now was not the time to be wondering if your skin would feel as soft under the caress of his fingertips as he had imagined. (Yet, here he was.) Nor was it the time to pick up his phone and stare at the obscene drawing of Ground Zero and Y/H/N he was tagged it. (Yet, he found himself walking over to his sofa and doing just that.)

And it was definitely not the time to be tempted by the link to the “5 Hottest” fanfictions written about the two of you. (Yet, two seconds later, the curiosity--and horniness--won over and he there it was on his screen.)

“Don’t fucking do it,” threatened Bakugou, glaring at his reflection on the darkened cellphone.

But either he wasn’t as strong-willed as he thought or his logic was rendered completely useless whenever it came to you, because he found himself reading through a 20,000-word long story about a sex pollen quirk.

In the story, a villain with said quirk attacked you on the field and the only way to relieve yourself of the unbearable pain was-- Well…an orgasm. And for some godforsaken reason, Ground Zero was the only one able to provide you with that release.

It was ridiculous and would never happen in real life, and yet something about the writing made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away.

As Bakugou continued to read, a vivid image of you sprawled out underneath him flashed before his eyes and he stifled a groan. His throat felt dry as the Ground Zero in the story trailed kisses from the swell on your breast to your sensitive navel and lower still, hands firmly gripping your hips to keep you from squirming under the assault of his tongue as your fingers tugged at his hair.

“Y/N… Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his one hand clutched his cellphone as he continued reading on, while his other hand made its way down to his semi-erect member.

His touch started light and feathery, almost tentative in a way, as he ran his fingers up and down his length in repetitive strokes. As his cock hardened, Bakugou grew more impatient and increased the pressure around his shaft, thighs tensing at the sudden spark of pleasure.

In the story, he had just finished eating you out and, to return the favor, you dropped onto your knees in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and he mimicked the motions, pretending it was your mouth around his head and not his own fingers.

Oh, how he wished it was your tongue instead of his own fucking fingers…

His vision grew hazy as his phone slipped out of his grasp, forgetting the fanfiction and picturing what you would do to him instead. Your eyes would be wide open as you peered up at him through your lashes, lips wrapped around his shaft as you took him deeper into your mouth.

As his thursts grew more and more uncontrolled, a low moan slipped out of him when he gently squeezed his fingers around his member one last time.

The moment he reached his climax, Katsuki’s eyes fluttered shut as his chest rose and fell in shallow pants. He was sweaty and flushed and sprawled out on the sofa, praying you would be there between his legs when he opened his eyes.

But of course, that wasn’t the case. And all Bakugou could do was laid spent on his back, wondering how the fuck he was ever supposed face you after that happened.

“Well, fuck…”

- - - - -

It was a Saturday evening and Bakugou and some of your other Pro Hero friends were supposed to meet up at your house, but that wasn’t what ended up happening.

Instead, the moment Katsuki texted the group chat that he was almost there, every single one of your friends began making excuses as to why they could no longer show. Deku had to babysit, Yaoyorozu had a last minute dinner date, Shouto was visiting his family… And the list went on, each excuse more pathetic than the last.

And so, that was how you and Bakugou found yourselves eating Chinese take out on your sofa while a shitty reality TV show played in the background.

“So,” you said, plopping a piece of steamed broccoli in your mouth and chewing slowly. “How was your day?”

He avoided your gaze, glaring down at his container of chicken and rice. The whole evening so far was filled with one awkward encounter after another-- Entirely his fault, he could admit. But he couldn’t help it! How the fuck was Bakugou supposed to look you in the eye and pretend everything was normal when just last night he jerked off to a sex story about Ground Zero and Y/H/N?

There was simply no way.

“I’m fine,” he managed, voice gruff as he almost choked on his words.

You stared curiously at him and he tried his hardest not to look your way. He knew one look into your eyes and he would be stuck wondering how they looked rolling back into your head as he fucked you senseless.

“Why are you acting so weird?” you asked, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Are you mad at me?”

Katsuki shook his head, pressing himself against the arm rest. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he would disappear into it.

“Then what’s the matter?”

You set your food aside on the coffee table and turned your body towards him, tucking your feet underneath your legs as you leaned forward. When he jumped at your brief touch, you studied him with unwavering intensity.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” you said, sticking your tongue out.

He winced at the sight of your pink flesh. God-fucking-dammit.

You pouted when he didn’t respond, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Okay, fine. I’m only kidding-- Please, tell me!”

“Nothing’s the matter,” Bakugou lied through clenched teeth.

“Sure. You’re acting like I was after I read all those--” you cut yourself off, eyes widening in realization. “No way!”

“What?” he asked defensively.

There was no way you could have meant that you read those obscene stories… Right?

A teasing grin grew on your face as you scooted closer to him, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t tell me you did it.”

Bakugou jerked away, your close proximity and warm breath too tantalizing after the events of last night.

“What did I do?” he repeated.

“You know what.”

He had a feeling he did know, but he damn well hoped he was wrong. “No I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at his avoidance before nodding understandingly. Giving him a little more room, you leaned back against the sofa and folded on leg across the other. (Unfortunately for Bakugou, all that did was draw more attention to your exposed thighs-- Or, as the fanfiction called it, “a long expanse of smooth skin leading to a delectable center.”)

“Remember that one week around Deku’s birthday when I was ignoring you?” you asked suddenly.

He snorted at the memory. “Yeah. You didn’t reply to my messages for days and when we saw each other at his birthday dinner, you turned into a bumbling mess and tried to leave the room.”

To this day, Katsuki still wasn’t certain what exactly had happened that caused you to avoid him like that, but he has a sinking suspicion he was about to find out.

“Exactly!” you agreed. “I got flustered whenever you were around and could hardly think straight.” You turned your body towards him once more, crossing your arms across your chest and accidentally pushing your breasts up. (Not that he noticed.) “Me back then? That’s how you’re acting right now!”

His nose crinkled indignantly. “Bullshit! That doesn’t describe me at all.”

“Oh, really?”

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hmm,” you drawled, leaning forward and giving him a clear sight of your cleavage. Bakugou almost choked on air at the sudden assault. “If that’s true, then why have you been staring at my boobs the whole time we were talking? And why does your vein look like its about to pop out of your neck from your overwhelming self-control?”

“And why are you spewing all these lies?!”

You smiled knowingly and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to wipe the look off your face with an explosion or with a kiss.

“They’re not lies. Do you know how I know that?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. There was no reason to argue any longer. “Hmph.”

“Because I was once in your shoes, too, young grasshopper,” you said serenely. Before he could get mad at you for fucking around like that, you continued. “I know you read those stories.”

This time, there was no almost-- He really did choke in surprise. You stared at him in alarm, moving closer to gently pat his upper back as he coughed up the fucking air. As if today wasn’t embarrassing enough…

“What stories?” he wheezed, trying to save face.

The word was such a vague term. It could have referred to many things. Maybe you got tired of hearing stories about how great of a Pro Hero Ground Zero was… No. That didn’t make sense even to him.

“Oh, come on. You don’t have to play dumb with me, Bakugou. You know what I’m talking about. And I know you’ve read them-- It’s written all over your face!”

Bakugou made an indignant noise of protest, but what you said next shocked him into silence.

“I know that look on your face very well… Because I’ve read them, too.”

He could only blink in response.

“After I read one, I couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks!” you said, shaking your head with an embarrassed, yet amused, smile. “When I saw you at Deku’s birthday party, I couldn’t even glance your way without thinking about ‘the beads of sweat framing your flushed face’ or ‘the way your red eyes darkened at the captivating sight sprawled out underneath you’.”

An angry blush invaded his cheeks and made its way to his neck and ears as the image flooded his head. Bakugou felt an uncomfortable heat as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. But nothing in the world could prepare him for what you were about to say.

“And don’t even get me started on your ‘big tiddies’,” you huffed, pursing your lips disdainfully.

There was one beat of silence… Two…

“My big what?” he forced out.

You shrugged drumming your fingertips along the couch cushion. “You know-- It’s what your fans call your pectoral muscles.”

If it were possible to die from embarrassment, Katsuki was sure it was bound to happen to him within the next few seconds.

First, you admitted to reading those lewd stories about the two of you. Second, you recited direct quotes about what was most likely his orgasm-face verbatim. And third, you were talking about tits while yours were resting comfily atop your crossed arms.

You tilted your head to the side, deep in thought. “Now that I look at them… They are rather big. I bet they’re bigger than mine.”

Well, if yours were anything like the drawing he saw yesterday, he would have to say you were wrong. Utterly and completely wrong.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Bakugou muttered under his breath as he eyed your breasts, only loud enough for him to hear.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

Shrugging, you brushed off his comment with a pensive look on your face. “Your fans’ description of your chest is so spot on, I’m beginning to wonder if the other things they’ve said are facts too.”

“What other things have you heard?”

“That you have a nice ass. But just one look at your butt in those jeans is enough to prove them right.”

Bakugou’s embarrassment faded away at the compliment. He did have a nice ass. And he damn well worked hard for it too. He puffed up in his seat at your praise while you rolled your eyes in amusement.

“Yours is pretty nice, too.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sticking your tongue out at his teasing. God, if he saw that fucking tongue one more time tonight… He wasn’t sure what was bound to happen. “You know what else they said? That you’re packing.”

Your eyes flitted downwards to his jeans and he shifted in his seat to subconsciously give you a clearer view. You made a quiet nose of surprise but didn’t back away, instead meeting his gaze with a darkened look.

Only the sound of the static from the forgotten television played as neither of you wanted to move and break the fragile moment. When you swallowed slowly, taking your plush lower lip between your teeth, Bakugou decided he was done with letting you have the upper hand.

“You know,” Katsuki said slowly, his voice so gruff it startled even himself, “I guess there’s only one way to find out if that’s true or not.”

The air was thick as you crossed and uncrossed your legs. “W-What exactly are you saying?”

Bakugou smirked. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

You puffed your cheeks up in a pout that did nothing to help Katsuki’s thinning self-control.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, but a loud-mouthed asshole got on my nerves.”

He scoffed in laughter, taken aback by your blunt tone. Shrugging as you sulked, he warned, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baka.”

“Oh, I can finish just fine,” you remarked with a challenging look in your eyes. “Don’t you worry about me. And I bet when I’m finished, you’ll see it won’t be like the lewd stories you’ve read.”

Tilting his head to the side, he met your gaze without backing down. “It won’t?”

“Nope. It’ll be better. Because it’s the real thing.”

“Is that a fact?”

With a mischievous grin, you leaned closer to Bakugou and craned your neck up so your face was mere inches from his. Using his own words against him, you replied, “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

And it was safe to say that, yes, the real thing was leagues better than the stories could ever imagine it to be.

[cpd5021]

Secret Santa Fic!!

Happy Holiday’s! I am so excited I got to participate in this Secret Santa event with some of the coolest Upstead peeps I know! I was given the prompt:

“I just tripped and fell face first into your crotch. End my life now, please.”

For @ruzek-halstead!!!

Hopefully this fic works for what you wanted with that hilarious prompt. I had lots of fun writing it! A special thanks to my secret Santa helper for the proofread/editing...you know who you are 😉😁. 

      Hailey and Jay’s relationship had evolved ever since she returned from New York. Their usual friendly banter had turned somewhat flirty recently, not that either of them had drawn attention to that fact. It seemed as though they were both aware of what the other person was thinking and for now they had settled into this new normal. That didn’t stop Hailey from experiencing the occasional blush at something he said or his eyes from lingering longer than they normally would. But this new status quo was something they were both seemingly okay with. Hailey couldn’t help feeling like she was back in high school, experiencing the throes of a first crush. Noticing all the little details about him or the way he would stand just a little closer now, linger at her desk just a little longer. And certainly something that wasn’t going unnoticed by her was her own reaction to these little things. The way her heart rate would increase when he would smile at her, the way her palms would slick when he sat to close. It was overwhelming and amazing all at the same time.

     She did her best to keep her own distance though, resisting the urge to place her hand on his shoulder when she was looking at something on his computer, clenching a fist at her side when all she wanted to do was brush her hand against his as they stood in line for coffee every morning, wanting to pull him into a hug at the end of a long day while they did their thing that worked over drinks. Hailey feared if she crossed that line, if she let that wall down, she might explode. And there would be no going back from that moment. So instead, she settled into the new normal and allowed herself to enjoy it as much as possible. 

    Today was like any other, started out slow but quickly picked up pace when they caught a case. What had appeared to be a straightforward home invasion had turned into something much bigger and the team ended up uncovering a history of hidden abuse within the family. The details of the case were leaving Hailey frustrated as she dealt with her own emotions the scenario had brought up. Jay, of course, had picked up on her tension and was doing his best to support her from a distance. He knew enough of her history to realize this case would get to her but he also knew her well enough that it was better to not push too much. So he did what he could to help, but from a distance. 

   Little did he know, his lingering looks and warm smiles were filling Hailey with an entirely different type of tension and it was wreaking havoc on her internally. She did her best to focus on cracking the case and putting this dirtbag behind bars and away from his family. After staring at her computer for over an hour, Hailey let out a sigh and pushed away from her desk, leaning back in her chair and rubbing at her eyes. Jay sent her a smile when their eyes met and motioned for her to grab her coat. Having nothing better to do, Hailey obliged and followed him down the steps and out to his truck. 

“You need lunch.”

He stated, jumping into the drivers side and grinning as she climbed in next to him. She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head in mock annoyance. Jay grinned again as he started the truck and pulled them out of the lot.

“Okay, well I need to eat.”

Hailey let out a chuckle and they fell into an easy silence. Jay drove them to one of her favorite diners not too far from the precinct and she happily followed him inside. It was slow on a Tuesday afternoon, leaving Hailey and Jay as only the third occupied table in the place. The young waitress came to take their drink order and Jay surprised Hailey when he answered yes to an appetizer. She watched as he quickly flipped through the menu before ordering a basket of fried pickles. Hailey raised her eyebrow in question, scrunching her face up in disgust at the thought. 

“What? You can’t tell me you don’t like them?”

Hailey, still grimacing, shook her head slightly and then laughed when Jay scoffed at her answer. The waitress returned with their drinks and the basket of the offending food. Jay picked up the tiniest piece he could find and handed it to Hailey, who skeptically took it from him and popped it into her mouth. She was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually really good, not that she was going to admit that to Jay. She sipped at her drink, watching as he devoured the food in front of him and when he took a break to check his phone, she seized the opportunity to snag one from the basket, quickly popping it into her mouth. Jay’s peripheral vision was too trained for her own good though and he instantly whipped his head up, pretending to swat at her hand as she went for another. 

“Hey, hands off my pickles!”

He threatened, but his eyes glistened with amusement and his tone was teasing. She chuckled at him but rescinded her hand, holding his gaze for longer than she cared to admit. Hailey simply couldn’t look away from his eyes, the way they lit up when he laughed made her heart beat faster. Jay made no move to break the gaze either so both were surprised when the waitress cleared her throat beside them.

“Ahem, here’s the burger and then the chicken wrap.”

She set the food in front of them, looking like she wanted to roll her eyes but managed to keep the customer service smile plastered to her face. Hailey felt her cheeks flush slightly and quickly focused on the food in front of her. They settled into their meal and finished it in a hurry, needing to get back to work. As they pulled out of the diner’s parking lot, Jay took a turn she wasn’t expecting and she shot him a look. 

“I just need to swing by the bank real quick for a deposit, if that’s cool?”

She nodded when he glanced over and found herself thankful for the momentary break from his presence as he jogged into the building. Hailey tried to pull herself together, still reeling from the long look they had shared. Just as she managed to calm herself down, Jay returned to the truck and she was right back where she started. When they were almost to the precinct, Jay’s phone rang and it was Adam letting them know they had a lead. The two raced back up into the bullpen and gathered around to take in the update. Once Adam had clued everyone in, Hailey got to work at her desk and was thankful for the task to distract her from Jay. Kevin walked over to Jay’s desk, showing him something in a file he was holding. 

“How was lunch?”

Kevin asked nonchalantly while Jay jotted down the information. 

“Good. Except Hailey couldn’t keep her hands off my pickles.”

Hailey, who had chosen the absolute worst time to take a drink, choked on her water at his words. Her face instantly burned bright red as she patted herself and her desk dry. Kevin laughed at Jay’s joke and headed back to his desk. Jay stood from his chair, giving a quick stretch, but before he could go anywhere Kim walked in, instantly scrunching her face up. 

“God what is that smell?”

She glanced around the room, eyeballing everyone to find the offending odor. 

“Jay and Hailey had a pickle for lunch. Well, Hailey had Jay’s pickle. Or something like that.”

Adam rambled off, paying no attention to the room around him or the response his words received. 

“Fried pickles. I had fried pickles.”

Jay tried to clarify, moving out from his desk to stand in the open. Hailey’s face still burned and she wanted to be anywhere but this room. 

“Oh, I liked my version better.”

Adam teased, waggling his eyebrows slightly before returning his focus to his computer. Hailey couldn’t take it anymore and stood up from her desk, bolting around it and heading towards the break room. Except in her rush, she didn’t notice the loose cord sticking out from her desk which promptly tripped her and sent her flying towards Jay. He attempted to reach out and catch her but he was too slow and instead his step forward caused her to crash into the front of his jeans. Jay’s strong hands gripped her upper arms, hauling her back up into a standing position and she was pretty sure her face couldn’t burn any hotter. She darted around him and into the breakroom, collapsing into a chair and laying her forehead against the table. She heard him follow her in but couldn’t bring herself to look up.

“You okay?”

He asked, his tone sounding a little more timid than normal. 

“I just tripped and fell face first into your crotch. End my life now, please.”

She never looked up but heard him pull out the chair next to her and she could feel him sitting close. 

“Come on, face first into my crotch isn’t the worst thing in the world…”

He trailed off and she groaned into the wood of the table. She definitely couldn’t look up now. 

“Okay, that came out wrong. I just meant…”

He stuttered out as she groaned again. 

“Jay, stop talking.”

Her voice was muffled by her arm but he heard her loud and clear. 

“Will do.” 

He nodded, even though she wouldn’t see it. What she also didn’t see was the blush spreading across his own face. Hailey kept herself firmly planted against the table, pushing away all the thoughts of their new normal and what could happen if she pushed it just a little farther. If she met his eyes, she would have been surprised to see the same line of thinking behind his look as well. Maybe someday...

[foulserpent]

ned has the most fleshed out history of any of my OCs. i typed it out over the past couple of days, theres some stufff missing but its over 2000 words as is.

here is neds life story prior to the oblviion crisis

ned was born in a village near falinesti’s summer rooting site. his father died before ned was born, and ned was raised by his mother and various farmhands in the community.

his mother was a farmer (though she had a shady past he was always peripherally aware of but never privy to), and they raised hogs and chickens for milk/meat/eggs and would be part of falenesti’s supply chain every year. niviiran also lived nearby, and the two were close friends throughout their childhood and adolescence.

“nasty ned” was in fact his birth name and a name he continued to use, though going by the latter part. he was never able to find out why his mother named him that. the name came in handy, given that ned is transgender and already had a fairly “masculine” name. he was recognized as a boy since he was around 10, but his mother was unable to afford the hormone replacement potions until his later teens.

when ned was 16, he started taking jobs at falenesti, mostly as a bouncer at its taverns. he had been a bit of a nervous child before that and to this day isnt sure why he chose that line of work, but it toughened him up considerably.

when he was about 20, his friend niviiran was being heavily pressured into marrying off to secure her family’s inherited silk business. niviiran saw this as the only chance to escape her emotionally abusive parents, and proposed the notion of entering into a (false) marriage with ned until she could get away. he agreed, both desiring to help his friend and hoping to benefit from niviiran’s far wealthier parents.

during this time, he had his first Actual intimate relationship, but it only lasted about a week. he had picked up a girlfriend at his job, but being emotionally immature and a bit of a dick, he thought that he did not need to inform her that he was TECHNICALLY married, since the marriage was fake and him and niv both did not mind. she left when he found out.

this marriage fell apart within a year, largely as a result of ned panicking and letting it slip while drunk at a gathering with niv’s family. this caused a huge commotion mostly directed at him (and was worsened by his continued panicking), and culminated in niviiran’s brother beating him and attempting to run him over with a horse as he fled. his leg was badly crushed and was saved by his mother.

though their marriage was fake, niviiran and ned had a real falling out as a result of this. both obviously felt bad for the harm to the other, but niv was very angry at ned for having let it slip and putting her in the position of having to run away from her controlling parents rather than leave freely. ned at the time was surprised and hurt that she was so mad, having taken her friendship for granted, and responded in kind. they separated angrily and did not see each other again after that point, and the way he treated niv is one of his first and biggest regrets.

after his leg was mostly healed, he decided he wanted to leave valenwood, at least for a while. he had developed some skill as a bodyguard, and managed to get himself hired to guard a merchant caravan that looped through valenwood, elsweyr, and cyrodiil. this was the time where he really came into his own in mercenary type fields, learning to use swords/shields/armor and how to hold his own against much larger foes. he also learned how to cook at this time, and had his first boyfriend. this relationship was not serious and did not last past ned’s contract with the caravan, but was significant and fondly remembered.

he chose not to continue as a caravan guard, and became interested in mercenary work instead. he joined up with cyrodiil’s fighters guild, and spent the next decade or so working for them. late in this period, he was subcontracted out to mainland morrowind on a longterm job as a hired guard. during this time, he met and began a relationship with yaksha gra-dralas, a morag tong agent. their relationship lasted about three years until ned’s contract ended. it was somewhat serious, but neither felt it was working out well enough to continue (and neds ass was too small). they went their separate ways, and ned returned to cyrodiil.

ned continued working for the fighters guild for an indeterminite amount of years, culminating in the events of oblivions fighters guild questline occurring. when ned was demoted for the death of the guildmaster’s son that he had nothing to do with, he decided that the guild was going to shit and that he was leaving. he resigned, and spent a few years hiring himself out independently as a mercenary or whatever else was paying.

eternally bad at settling, he became unsatisfied and decided to move again. he moved to vvardenfell, where he would live for the next 30 years or so. during this time, he joined their chapter of the fighters guild, took many odd jobs, and became more radicalized against the empire than he had already been (which was a lot).

notably, in the latter half of his time there, he met the disowned son of a hlaalu nobleman named ondryn. he and ondryn were assigned together on a longterm fighters guild job out in the wilderness, and began a relationship that would last a decade. it was ned’s longest relationship, and also the first one that he seriously considered the possibility of being permanent and settling with. he had loved all his partners before this, but ondryn was very special to him and brought out something much more serious in him.

it was this relationship that would also lead to ned’s involvement with daedric cults. ondryn was dissident against the tribunal and a follower of azura, boethiah, and mephala. this was just casual everyday worship, but the two joined an active sect of boethiah worshippers (at least partially trying to impress each other). ned had never been religiously motivated and believed that gods were not owed worship any more than anyone else, but was drawn to the “good daedra” for their seemingly mutually beneficial relationship with mortals.

ned was never the most devoted of boethiah’s sect, but through skill and luck he continuously proved himself worthy, and eventually was challenged to and won a tournament of 10 bloods. he was granted a title as champion of boethiah, and bestowed with the artifact goldbrand.

for a while, he proved himself worthy by continuing to maintain his position and defeat any challenger who came his way. but at one point, he was successfully kidnapped along with a fellow boethiah worshipper to be sacrificed to molag bal. he managed to free himself of his binds and escape, and came back with reinforcements to slaughter the rest of molag bal’s faithful, but it was too late for his friend.

this was the first decidedly traumatic incident of his life, and marked the beginning of a slow downturn of his life and his mental health. he was wracked with guilt at having left his friend to die, and was beginning to realize he wasnt really cut out for the whole champion of boethiah thing, rightfully fearing that he had lost favor for this weakness. in a stupid move (that would turn out smart in the long run in bargaining for his soul back), he kept goldbrand but fled with ondryn from the cult, ghosting boethiah and just hoping it wouldnt come back to bite him.

the blight was also worsening in vvardenfell at this point, with things beginning to get pretty scary. ned had repeatedly expressed desire for him and ondryn to flee vvardenfell, but the latter saw all this as just another crisis that would pass with time, and ned accepted this. around the time of the beginning of morrowind’s events, ondryn fell sick after an encounter with one of the ash creatures from red mountain. when it became obvious and undeniable that it was corprus, ondryn resigned himself to dying and asked of ned to help him be properly cremated and interred in his family tomb. all of ondryn’s living relatives had disowned him, but he still desired to be buried in his rightful place.

agreeing to this was the hardest thing ned had ever done. ondryn said goodbye and took poison, and ned was left alone to burn and lay his body to rest. he almost couldnt bring himself to do it, but eventually succeeded. after it was done, ned remained in the tomb for a few days, catatonic and just waiting to see if he would show symptoms himself. when it became clear that he had not contracted corprus, he considered suicide but became disgusted with himself and decided against it.

he remained in vvardenfell for a short while after this, but when his beloved guar (“jelly”) passed away of old age (mercifully peacefully), he decided enough was enough, and returned to cyrodiil. he had a couple of brief encounters with a person who he would later learn was the nerevarine, and left only weeks before the defeat of dagoth ur.

upon returning to cyrodiil, he was in a rut. he had become near-broke, had newly acquired mental health issues, had a constant fear of boethiah sending prospective champions after him, and had nothing to do with himself. he settled into the imperial city waterfront as a squatter, and attempted to join the thieves guild, but failed the initiation. desperate, he began thieving on his own, sometimes doing jobs for others and sometimes just to have money to get by.

he took a very large risk in agreeing to steal and imperial watch captain’s heirloom sword, and was captured in the act. he resisted arrest and injured the captain, and the captain personally intervened to get him a much steeper sentence than he otherwise would have. he was put into the imperial city prison for a few weeks, before being transferred to the arena and being put to work as a gladiator.

this was essentially a death sentence, with no determined ending besides dying in the arena. he met shap-mota here, a bard who had been blamed for a string of brutal assaults in spite of being pretty unquestionably Not the culprit. the two of them had an intimate relationship throughout this time, and struck up a friendship, but they were under a painful and unusual situation and it could not really be called a romantic relationship.

for a time, ned was managing well. he managed to get some serious dirt on one of the guard captains and effectively blackmail him. he wasnt able to secure his freedom, but was able to force his hand into giving him his sword (goldbrand) back and giving him and shap a bit more leeway as prisoners. having goldbrand is likely the only reason he survived and won all his death matches, but his uncooperativeness and humiliation of a few of the guards gave them a massive grudge.

after about 5 months, shap narrowly won a match, but had been gravely injured in the process and collapsed. ned last saw him being dragged out from the arena, and never saw anything that would indicate shap being alive, and had to assume he died. things got really bad after that, with ned having no buffer against the ire of the guards and other prisoners. he lost his blackmailing opportunity (though was allowed to keep goldbrand, due to the crowd loving his signature flaming sword) and was given absolutely terrible treatment from his captors.

he became incredibly disgusted with being forced to kill other prisoners and enraged at challengers who fought willingly. as he rose in the ranks, he was kept going by not knowing what else to do and by a grim satisfaction at murdering people who willingly chose to be combatants. this was very traumatizing.

ned achieved champion rank, though he almost lost his final match. his opponent disarmed him and instead of killing him, gloated and slashed at him with goldbrand, ripping his abdomen open and giving him his biggest scars. ned managed to take him by surprise and kill his opponent before passing out from shock and blood loss.

he woke up a day later to find he had been released. evidently, no one expected him to live that long and it was decided he might as well be let go. ned already had trauma to deal with, but was suddenly experiencing very unusual and new symptoms (which was ptsd and an anxiety disorder) that he had no idea what to do with. he was also convinced that his challenger was there on boethiah’s behalf, though he cant be sure of that, and the fear of being killed and left to the daedra who probably owned his soul took hold of him again.

he had been given some prize money, and he collected himself and left. he moved into kvatch, and rented an attic from some dunmer in exchange for proofreading his stupid “opus” about him killing all the cliff racers or whatever.

ned spent a few years in a haze, kind of just drifting through life, getting into shit here and there. there was an “incident” involving the towns blacksmith at the general store, and he was not arrested but was considered to owe a favor to the town’s watch captain due to the chaotic results that few dare to speak of.

this favor was finally cashed in when kvatch was burnt down by mehrune’s dagons invasion force and they needed someone to try and close the gate, and lo and behold here comes ned “owes a favor” nasty and some argonian from out of town who just kind of wandered in.

[hopelikethemoon]

Cherry Red (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Cherry Red Rating: Explicit  Length: 4700 Warnings: Smut (Bathroom sex ‘nuff said)  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set later summer 1998. Reader’s outfit can be found here. Check out the NSFW ABCs.  Summary: Javier and Reader enjoy a night out with Connie and Steve. 

“Babe,” You started, using your tongue to catch the straw, taking a sip before you sat it down on the table. “What’s your favorite color?”

Javier’s brows drew together as he leaned over to give Sofía a handful of broken up animal crackers. He pursed his lips, “It depends.”

“Helpful.” You rolled your eyes, brushing your fingers through your hair as you rested your elbows on the table. “Maybe I want to buy something special…”

“Oh?” He smirked across the table at you. “Red.”

“That’s your favorite color?”

He shrugged, “You’ve got that one flannel shirt you wear.” Javier adjusted the straw in Sofía’s apple juice box, glancing back at you. “It’s red and it looks good on you.”

“I didn’t know you liked that.” You grinned a little, chewing on your bottom lip. “I don’t know if they have lumberjack chic, but I’ll check. Just for you.” You nudge his foot under the table. “You good to watch the girls for a couple minutes?”

He nodded, “Yeah, baby.” 

Josie was dipping her chicken nuggets in her Szechuan Sauce, occupied with the cassette tape she was listening to. You could take her almost anywhere, so long as she had something to listen to. 

Javier was already working on you about the Gameboy Color that was supposedly coming out around his birthday. He’d passed his Gameboy down to Josie — but she wasn't nearly as enthralled with it as he’d hoped. She liked her cassette tapes. 

You finished your drink, rising to your feet and moving around the table to drape your arms over Javier’s shoulders, resting against his back. “Try not to pick up any women.” 

Javier snorted, turning his head to kiss your cheek. “I’m only looking to pick you up, baby.”

You grinned at him as you brushed your fingers through his hair, “You know what the hot dad look does.”

“To you.” 

“Nice save.” You laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before you pulled away. 

“Will I be getting a show tonight?” He questioned, turning around as you took a few steps backwards. 

“Maybe.” With a wink, you turned away from him and headed through the mall towards the lingerie store where you’d already bought a decent collection of intimates. 

You were looking forward to tonight. With the busyness of summer, vacations, work, and balancing everything neither of you had had much of a chance to have an evening out with the Murphys. 

Connie had been dying for a night out for the past couple weeks and everything finally aligned. Monica and Nadia had agreed to watch all four girls. 

“Welcome! Can I help you find anything in particular?” The shopgirl questioned as you strolled into the store. “We have a sale on our V-String Panties.” 

You snapped your fingers and laughed, “You know… I’m not into feeling like my underwear is riding up my ass all day. But I appreciate the aesthetic.” 

She laughed brightly, “Well what are you looking for? Are you shopping for yourself or a special someone?”

“Well, I’m looking for my own personal comfort… But yes, I am shopping for something to entertain him.” You folded your arms across your chest, glancing around the store. “We’ve had success with everything else I’ve bought here.”

“Always happy to have a returning customer,” She offered with a smile. “If thongs aren’t your style, we have a very nice collection of lacey intimates in different cuts. Boyshort, hipster, and so forth.” 

“Oh!” You hummed thoughtfully, “I suppose a boyshort cut would be nice. I’m planning on wearing this black dress of mine. It has a cute cherry print, spaghetti straps, and it lands about here.” You explained, gesturing to your mid-thigh. 

“I have mad respect for you.” She told you as she guided you further into the store, towards a display of lacey underwear. “What about these?” She pointed to a pair of blue pair of lace underwear on the mannequin. 

“Does it come in red?” 

She bent down, pulling out the drawer beneath the display, “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” You ruffled through the drawer until you found a pair in your size. You could definitely see Javier enjoying these. Though, truth-be-told, he was easy to please. 

“Now, if you’re wearing spaghetti straps, you’re going to need something strapless.” She tapped her finger against her chin, looking around the store thoughtfully. “Oh! I know. Come with me.” 

You followed after the shopgirl, moving further towards the back of the store where there was a collection of bustiers on display. You made a mental note to return to purchase a few of the others on display — particularly a black lace up bustier that wouldn’t cover much. It had ribbons that were neatly placed directly over the breasts and not much else. 

“I think this should go with the panties.” The girl said, holding up a cherry-red strapless bustier. “What do you think?”

“I’m in love.” You smiled, taking the bustier from her and holding it up in front of you. It was tasteful, entirely covered cups that would actually offer a little support, and the lace descended about mid-rib. “I’ll take both.” 

“Great! I’ll ring you up.” She smiled. 

You had a feeling that Javier was going to really enjoy the purchase. 

——

 “What is your secret?” Connie questioned, holding the little straw in her drink in place as she took a sip of her fruity cocktail. 

You cocked your head to the side, “Which one?”

“How do you pull off this look?” She questioned, sweeping her hand over the length of your body. “Whenever I’ve attempted the mini dress look, I end up looking like a woman in her thirties who still thinks she’s a teen.”

“I just don’t give a fuck.” You admitted with a shrug. “You know how I dress at home. Sweatpants or shorts, paired with whatever tank top is clean. At work I’m rocking a power suit.” You picked up your rum runner, taking a drink. “So when we get out — I like showing a little skin.”

Your eyes wandered towards the back of the bar, where Javier and Steve were playing pool. They needed a little guy time. 

“Javier likes it, doesn’t he?” Connie questioned, curling a lock of blond hair as she leaned her elbow against the table. 

“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “But he also likes me in sweatpants.” You smoothed your hand over the skirt of your dress. “You should wear whatever you want to wear, Connie.”

“I do!” She assured you, gesturing to her own outfit. Connie rocked the mom jeans. “It’s just… Steve and I hit another dry spell and it’s driving me crazy.”

You frowned, “Shit. What happened?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted, taking another drink, before sitting it down. “And it’s not everything… we just haven’t had sex. At all. All summer.”

“Okay, but if it’s not everything…”

“It’s all the build up.” Connie explained. “That’s fine, that’s good. He’ll go down on me, but then seem like he’s not interested in actually having sex.”

You frowned, “Have you talked to him?”

“You know how he is. He’s as bad as Javier.” Connie chewed on her bottom lip. “Steve assured me that nothing’s wrong, he’s just not really in the mood.”

“Well, if he told you he isn’t in the mood that’s probably the case.” You told her, circling your thumb around the rim of your glass. 

“My mother got me paranoid that there’s someone else.”

“Well, your mother should shut the fuck up.” You said bluntly. “If there’s one thing I know about Murphy, it’s that he’d bend heaven and hell to keep you in his life.”

“I just thought… maybe if I dressed more like you do.” She gestured to your outfit again. “Javier can’t keep his eyes or hands off of you.”

“We both have very different relationships.” You sat up a little straighter. Well, now you knew why Connie had been dying for a night out. She was always more comfortable having these discussions after a couple drinks. 

“I know. But I want what you have. I want that passion.” Connie sighed heavily. “I just don’t understand it. Everything is so good and then he just shuts down.”

“Okay.” You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek. “What happens after things die down? He gets you off and then what?”

“He usually says something about not really being in the mood. He’ll kiss me for a little while longer and then we’ll go to bed or get up for the day.” She frowned, “I wish I hadn’t told my mom. She’s had me stressing about this since June.”

“Have you tried making an evening of it?” You questioned, your brows drawn together. “He might be genuinely stressed with everything that’s been changing in your lives. He quit the DEA after like fifteen years.”

“We’ve been so busy this summer.” 

“Then that is your problem.” You took another sip of your drink. “You’ve both been busy. I mean, at least he’s been trying to meet your needs.” You pointed out. “Props to Murph.”

Connie dragged her fingers through her hair, laughing nervously. “And what if that’s not the problem?”

“Then you talk to him.” You told her, “And maybe go see Nancy. She helped Javier and I get over our own dry spell.”

“Go buy some sexy lingerie.” You told her, glancing around to make sure no one was watching the two of you. You flipped up the skirt of your dress, showing off your red lace covered hip. 

“Oh my God!” Connie covered her mouth and laughed. “That’s gorgeous!”

You smirked at her, “I bet you Steve would lose his shit if you undressed and had on some sexy lingerie.”

“I definitely don’t have anything like that in my dresser.”

“But really, you should also talk to him.” You insisted, glancing back at where the guys were. They appeared to be having a similarly serious conversation. “I’m sure he’s got his own concerns.”

“I would love to prove my mother wrong.” Connie laughed quietly, shaking her head. “She’s never really liked Steve.”

“Didn’t she stay with you guys this summer? I wouldn’t be in the mood if my in-laws didn’t like me.” 

Connie grimaced, “God, I’m glad I have you to talk me off the ledge.”

“You can always call me, Connie. Or meet up for coffee. You don’t have to drink to talk sex with me.” You shrugged a shoulder, taking another sip of your drink. “Why don’t we go check on the guys?”

“Okay.” Connie finished off her drink, pausing for a second, before she slid out of the booth and followed you towards the back of the bar. 

“Having fun?” You questioned, taking a drink of your rum runner before sitting it on the ledge of the pool table, putting a little sway in your step as you approached Javier. 

Javier slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, “Steve’s still shit at pool.”

“Of course he is.” You snorted, shaking your head as you set your eyes on Steve. You watched him and Connie carefully, analyzing the way they interacted with each other. Same as they always had. You leaned up to whisper in Javi’s ear, “Please tell me Steve was asking you for advice too.”

His shoulders sagged with relief, “Yes. Connie too?” 

You nodded, “I figured tonight was a motivated evening.” 

Javier chuckled, “They’ll be fine.” He ran his hand over the small of your back, before his hand moved lower and he slipped it under the hem of your skirt, giving your ass a squeeze. 

“Javi.” You laughed, pressing your face against his chest, snaking your arm around his waist. “Behave.”

“It’s been driving me crazy wondering what you have on under this.”

You smirked, “I think you’ll enjoy it.” You pulled away from him then, gesturing to the pool table. “Let’s get another round of drinks and play a game.”

Connie made a face, “I’m bad at this game sober.”

“That’s why it’s fun.” 

“I’ll get the drinks.” Javier said, pressing a kiss to the back of your head before he headed for the bar. 

You grabbed two cue sticks from the stand, passing one to Connie. “Good news.” You told her, “I think things are going to be just fine.”

“Really?” She smiled brightly.

“What are you ladies talking about?” Steve questioned, wrapping his arm around Connie as he swung the rack in his other hand. 

“How badly team Peña is going to kick your ass.” You grinned triumphantly, taking the rack from him and moving back to the table to set up the balls. 

“Team Peña? Did ya’ll get married and forget to tell us?” Steve teased. 

“And we had a secret son and named him Stephen Murphy. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” You deadpanned. 

Javier returned with the drinks, “What did I just walk in on?” He questioned, passing you your drink. 

“I was telling Steve about our secret son.”

“Oh, right.” Javier took a sip of his whiskey. “Stephen Murphy.”

Steve looked between the two of you, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Javier questioned. 

“Just know what the other was doing?”

You shrugged, tilting your head to look at Javier. “I chalk it up to eleven years of healthy banter. We’re on the same wavelength.” You bumped your hip against his, before you took a sip.

“Let me guess,” Javier scratched at the back of his neck. “Some shit about our secret marriage?”

Connie laughed, “Oh. My. God.”

You grinned, “Yep!”

“Figured.” He sat his glass down on the pool table, moving to grab his discarded cue stick. “We playing?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Steve answered, exchanging a look with Connie. 

You and Javier absolutely killed the Murphy’s at pool. Three rounds in and you were still the victors. Nailing pocket after pocket with ease. 

“I’m starting to think you’re cheating.” Steve remarked, looking between the two of you.

“You can’t cheat at pool, bud.” You quipped, blowing off the extra blue chalk on the tip of Javier’s cue stick. “At least not easily.”

Javier’s hand found its way under the hem of your dress again, giving your ass a playful squeeze. He was making it increasingly difficult to focus on the game. Not that you weren’t intentionally bending over to show off the hint of lace that laid beneath your skirt. 

You shot him a look, only to be met with a suggestive raise of his brows. 

“Why don’t you buy us another round of drinks.” You suggested, “You know… losers buy drinks.” 

Steve narrowed his eyes, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Javier grinned, curling his arm around your waist. “Come on, Murphy. Don’t act surprised.” 

“I’m not. That’s the sad part.” He turned towards Connie, “You want another drink, sweetheart?”

“I’d like that.” She smiled hopefully, “And… maybe we could dance.”

Steve nodded slowly, “That sounds nice.”

“Come on,” You said, taking Javier’s hand into yours. “They need some alone time, anyway.”

“Yeah, they’ve got some shit to work out.” Javier agreed, following after you through the crowd, back to the hallway that led to the bathroom.

One of the bathrooms was occupied, but upon trying the second door knob you found it unlocked and empty. 

“I had this whole plan of showing off the lingerie when we got home.” You told him, watching as he locked the door behind him. “I guess I should’ve known we wouldn’t be able to control ourselves.” 

Javier arched a brow at you, “What did you think was gonna happen, baby? You wear this dress and spend all night bending over…” He crowded close to you, his hands sliding up your outer thighs, until he curled his hands around your hips. “Your ass looks divine.” 

“You think my ass looks divine in sweatpants.” You poked him in the chest, before you slid your hand up to curl around the back of his neck. 

“Maybe I just like your ass,” Javier’s hand slid around, giving your asscheek a squeeze before he swiftly smacked it. You were just this side of tipsy and entirely unable to control the yelp that escaped you. 

“It’s a pretty good ass.” You laughed, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Hmm?”

You lowered your voice, leaning in close to him. “I like your ass too.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Oh, fuck off.’ 

You laughed, sliding both of your arms over his shoulders as you pressed close to him. “It’s the truth.” You grinned, leaning up to kiss him. 

Javier’s tongue invaded your mouth, sliding over your tongue, before sweeping over the roof of your mouth. You chased after his lips as he drew back, his gaze dark with desire as he met yours. “Turn around, baby.” 

You didn’t even hesitate, turning around to face your reflection in the mirror. You glanced over your shoulder, watching as Javier worked the zipped down your spine, revealing bare skin and the cherry-red bustier that stood out against your skin. 

“Look at you.” Javier drawled out, peeling the thin fabric of your dress down your torso. He held your gaze in the mirror as you leaned back against his chest. “Fuck.” 

“I thought you’d like it.” You remarked, tilting your head back to kiss his jaw. Javier was transfixed on your reflection and you watched the way his hand trailed over your ribs, tracing the lacey lines of the fabric that was wrapped around you. 

“I fucking love it.” He told you, his hands sliding downwards, pushing your dress down your hips to reveal the red lace covering your there. “You were gonna make me wait until we got back home to show me this, baby?” 

You nodded, reaching behind you to curl your fingers around the back of his head, playing with his hair. “Had to make you work for it.” You pointedly ground your ass back against him, smirking as you felt his stiffened cock. “Baby, did you bring your cue stick in here?”

Javier chuckled, the sound turning into a soft growl as he pressed his mouth into the crook of your neck. “So fucking mouthy. I should put that mouth to use.” He drawled out, cupping your jaw as he held your gaze in the mirror. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, watching as your tongue darted out to tease it. 

“You could…” You arched a brow at him. “But I think you want more than that.” You rocked back against him, “Don’t you, Javi?” 

Javier’s lips found your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed you there, before dragging his mouth back down your neck. “You’re right, baby. You can’t wear this shit and not expect me to want to fuck you.” 

You inhaled sharply as he roughly grabbed at your hips, holding you steady as he took a step backwards. You watched him in the mirror as his eyes raked over you. “Like something you see?” You teased, swaying your hips from side-to-side. 

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of the lace, dragging them down your hips. “I like everything I see.” Javier told you, crowding close to you again. He worked his hand in between you and the bathroom sink, his fingers slipping between your thighs.

You bit down on your bottom lip, rocking back against his covered cock as his fingers cupped your cunt. “Feel that?”

“Fuck. Baby, you’re soaking wet.” He said as he dragged his finger between your slick folds. “Goddamn it.” 

“Well someone kept eyefucking me during pool. I’m sorry.” You shot back with a wicked smirk as you met his gaze in the mirror. “What’s a girl to do?”

Javier abandoned his teasing, his hands moving to unzip his jeans, shoving them and his boxers down his hips. “Indeed.” 

You let him maneuver you into position, arching your back as you widened your stance, knuckles going white as you clenched at the edge of the sink for support. There was very little foreplay in these scenarios. And you loved it. 

The haste, the need, the desperation.

You cried out — thankful that the bar was noisy and crowded and no one would care if someone was getting fucked in the bathroom. His cock filled you completely, buried within you from root to tip. 

“Watch yourself, baby.” He told you, rocking his hips forward roughly, urging you to open your eyes and watch as he fucked you. “Wish you could see just how good you look on my cock.” He told you, fingers winding into your hair as he held fast to you and fucked you. 

You moaned, grabbing onto the faucet as you lurched forward. “Javier.” You hissed out through clenched teeth as he kept repeatedly driving into that sweet spot within you. His cock hitting the deepest spots that had you seeing stars. 

Javier’s fingers curled loosely around your throat, pulling you back against his chest so you only had his arm to cling to for support as he rocked into you, burying the full length of his cock into you with every thrust. You were lost to the pleasure of it all. 

Even the way your nipples pebbled beneath the lace, the way his arm kept rubbing over them as he kept his hand securely wrapped around your throat. It was all overwhelming. 

“Want you to come for me.” Javier urged, his lips close to your ear as he spoke. “I want you to come for me, baby. Come on my cock.” 

Your body clenched in response to his words, your cunt tightening like a vice around his cock as he kept slamming into you. You were right on the cusp, teetering right on the edge. You could feel it throbbing deep within you, your release ready to wash through you.

“That’s it, baby.” Javier rasped out, “Want you to come for me so I can fill that pretty little pussy of yours.” He reached downwards, his fingers seeking out that little bundle of nerves just above where his cock was driving into you. “Love knowing I’m dripping out of you.” 

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. You cried out, the sound muffled by his hand as he wrapped it around your mouth. Your body clenched around him, but still he didn’t stop thrusting into you until he found his own release. Your cunt milked it from him, inner walls pulsing around his cock as he spilled into you. 

And only then did he slow down his pace, hips rolling languidly as he guided you both through the afterglow of your releases. Your legs shook from exhaustion as Javier pulled out of you, quick to pull the lacey red underwear back up your thighs. Putting them back into place. 

“Holy shit.” You panted out, hand to your chest as you felt your thundering heartbeat beneath your palm. “Why is bathroom sex… so good?” 

“Wish I knew.” He chuckled lowly as he tucked his cock back into his boxers and zipping his jeans closed once more. It was unfair how easily he could look composed and you felt like you looked thoroughly fucked. Mostly because you had been. Your inner walls were still fluttering in response to just how thoroughly he’d fucked you.

Javier arched a brow at your reflection, “You good, baby?”

You nodded your head slowly, “A little out of breath.” You admitted, pulling your dress back up your body. “Do you mind?”

He stepped towards you, pulling your zipper up your back as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “I like the lingerie.” He remarked, resting his hands at your hips as he propped his chin up on your shoulder — meeting your gaze in the mirror. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, laughing softly as you sank back against him with a sigh. “I’m glad.” You reached behind you, stroking his cheek lovingly. “I love you.” 

He grinned at you as he curled an arm around your waist, keeping you pressed close to him. “I love you too.” Javier pressed his lips to your cheek. “We should get back out there.” 

“Like they don’t know where we went.” You snorted, turning around in his embrace so you could lean up to kiss him. “Is everything okay with Steve?”

Javier rolled his eyes, “I love our pillow talk.” He deadpanned, giving your hip a squeeze. “Yeah, he’s good. He’s just working through some shit.”

“Well, Connie’s mother thinks he’s cheating on her.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “Connie’s mother is part of the problem.” 

“I told her to talk to him.”

“Good.” Javier shrugged his shoulders. “I told him the same shit. I reamed him out for letting it go on as long as he has.” 

“They’ll be okay though, right?”

“If they talk. Yeah.” He nodded. “Never thought we’d be the ones giving relationship advice.” 

“Oh how the tables have turned.” You laughed, checking your reflection in the mirror before you moved towards the bathroom door. “Personally, I think Connie’s jealous that they don’t have this—” You gestured in between the two of them. “But they’re both very…”

“Vanilla?”

“Yeah.” 

“You’ll be proud.” Javier told you, slipping his hand into yours. “I told him they should experiment.” Your brows shot upwards. “Don’t get too excited. I just told him they should mix it up.” 

You grinned at him, “Well that’s something. I told Connie to buy some sexy clothes.” 

“Hopefully they work things out,” He squeezed your hand tightly as you headed back out into the main area of the bar. 

You scanned the crowd, spotting Connie and Steve slow dancing to some sappy song with the rest of the couples on the dance floor. They seemed to be having a good time. And as much fun as it was to hangout with them — they needed alone time. 

“I’m gonna go close out the tab,” You told Javier as you turned towards him. 

“Yeah.” Javier nodded, releasing his hold on your hand and running his fingers down your spine. “Works for me, baby. I’ll be at the table.” 

You headed over to the bar, flagging down the bartender to close out your tab.

“Here you go.” The bartender said as he sat a drink down in front of you.

“I’m actually closing out my tab.” You explained.

“I know,” He shrugged, passing you your receipt. 

“Okay.” Your brows furrowed, following the bartender’s line of sight as a younger man approached you, settling at the bar beside you. 

Of course. 

“Hey there pretty thing,” The man leered, his eyes raking over your body, before meeting your eyes with a toothy grin. “Saw you playing pool over there,” He leaned a little too close to you on the bar, but you didn’t flinch. 

You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of unnerving you. “Yeah?” You raised your brows with an unamused expression. 

“Can’t help but thinking you could do better.” He continued, “Didn’t seem like he appreciated the way you blew on his cue stick.”

You snorted, “Wow.”

“Just speaking the truth,” The younger man remarked, eyes flickering over you again. “I bet I could give you what you really need.”

“See,” You tossed your hair over your shoulder, “Everything you just said was wrong.” You popped the cherry from the drink into your mouth. “Cause I doubt your pencil dick could fuck me like my partner just did in the bathroom.” 

He looked flummoxed by that.

You patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks for the drink. Make sure you get home before your curfew. Would hate for your mommy to worry.” And with that you headed towards Javier, sliding into the booth beside him.

“Free drink?”

You grinned at him, “It really pained me to turn down the offer of sexual favors that came with it.”

Javier curled his hand around your leg, “Really?”

“Didn’t seem right given what we just did.” You dragged your teeth over your bottom lip, keeping your eyes on his face. 

Your breath caught in the back of your throat as you felt Javier’s hand curl around your inner thigh beneath your skirt. He slid his hand up higher, until his thumb dragged over your sensitive folds through the damp lace that was soaked with his come.

“We should go home.” You whispered, closing the distance so you could kiss him. “So I can give you the full show.” You added as you pulled back, meeting his gaze. 

“I love the way you think, baby.” Javier grinned, brushing his nose against yours. “C’mon.” 

[bbugyu]

a dragon's kingdom

he never wanted to stop learning about you, and you never knew how much you needed him by your side.

part one | part two

wc.5009 | smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, royal au, princess!reader and knight!cheol, penelope is the best character, sex constantly, it's called the honeymoon stage, unprotected sex, lots of it, lk impreg kink?, confessions mid-coitus, oops she pukes (not during sex oh my god), food consumption, mentions of death & mental instability, lots of crying

why do i care so much about lore and names and backstory and motivation. anyways i've created an entire world if you wanna know about literally any person that is offhandedly mentioned in this fic i can give u their origin story, including he horses. this part is really story heavy but also pretty sex heavy so have fun!!! also im in love with seungcheol but what's new.

*

"this feels strange."

you hummed, pulling out a pair of pants from a drawer and holding it up to seungcheol. "what do you mean? wearing someone else's clothes?"

he shook his head no, looking around the bedroom you had brought him to with the promise of clean pants. you had gone through all the rooms, you told him, as you led him through the castle wearing a light tunic tucked into a pair of trousers. you'd collected the clothes you liked, that fit you, and brought them to the tower, but there was plenty that didn't fit your criteria, and you were pretty sure he would fit into the clothes in the third bedroom to the left of the kitchen, past the main dining hall, a room you had discovered to be a counselmen's quarters. "you've been gone for so long, but i was at the kingdom only yesterday."

you looked to him, folding the pants over your arm. "what's it like now?"

a wash of realization caught seungcheol off guard. "my god, you've missed so much."

he changed, insisting you looked the opposite direction despite the fact that you had already seen all of him only hours earlier, and you fiddled your fingers and joked about peeking, but only stole a glance when you heard him buckling a belt that had also been found in the room. you exited the couselmen's room and he helped you onto his horse, leading her down the hall in the direction you told him. you patted down calliope's black mane as she walked alongside seungcheol, listening to him describe the castle ground and all the changes that had been made in the last decade.

"the statue, in the fountain?" you nodded when he looked at you. "it's all three of you now. they added you and the queen probably six months after your disappearance."

"that doesn't sound like father."

seungcheol paused, looking up at you. "i didn't know the king personally until only a few years ago, but he's not the ruthless leader you knew him as any more. your loss changed him."

you should have been more interested in your own father, but you couldn't help the way your mind wandered to fond memories of the flowers and gardens. "are there still lilies?"

"yes, of course," he said. "one of the back gardens was planted in your honor, right by the gates. i've never seen so many colors of lilies in my life."

you were quiet for almost too long, and seungcheol looked to you, immediately noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. "does mother go there often?"

"hey, hey hey," he instantly mounted his horse behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder gently. "yes. every day."

you inhaled sharply, blinking your eyes rapidly to quell the tears. "she used to love roses," you started.

"she still does," he confirmed, and you didn't even realize that you had mourned for her as though she were dead.

"there's a garden here," you continued, wiping at your eyes and rubbing the moisture away on the pants you wore, seungcheol's hands resting on your stomach as he listened to you. "it was almost dead when i found it, but i take care of the roses there. i'll show it to you later."

seungcheol nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek, making you smile vaguely. 

"there's a stable, also," you said, sniffing your nose. "you might recognize the horses. i suppose we should bring them back with us, as well."

he faltered. "from past missions?"

"only three," you clarified, gently nudging his steed around a corner towards the kitchens. "most of them ran to the fields, but three have stayed. i've named them. one had letters carved into its armor plate, but it was damaged - i could only read valerie."

"valkyrie," seungcheol said immediately. "tan colored horse, correct? with a white diamond on her head."

you turned in his grip. "yes, exactly!"

his stomach felt heavy suddenly. "she was captain varian's steed. he trained me for years, his mission was last fall."

"i'm sorry," you said, lacing your fingers with his on your lap as you recognized his loss. you thought of a year ago, when you had found the horse. you did your best to remember who had come at that time. "though it may not be consolation, i believe he was the one penelope ran from the grounds."

seungcheol's fingers tensed between yours. "she-"

"didn't kill him," you finished. "he was a good man."

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in relief, his forehead landing on your shoulder. "he was."

"i wasn't sure the horse was his, though i kept it in case he returned. the forests around here are deadly, but there's a village nearby, so i had hope..." you pursed your lips, thinking of how blasé you had always been about the men that failed to save you, not thinking at the time of the people they knew before they came. "i should have done more."

"you did what you could have," seungcheol reassured, his lips on your shoulder as he curled his arms tighter around you. "thank you for telling me."

you relished in the feeling of his arms around you, sighing as you let your head fall back against his shoulder. "i didn't realize how much i missed human contact."

you felt his breath on your neck when he let out a short chuckle. "i've never had it like this."

"neither have i," you said, adjusting to look him in the eye. he was only a breath away, his lips, his jaw, his neck. he had only arrived that morning, but your attachment to him could never get greater than it was now. you wondered if you glowed like he did in this moment - radiating gold in the streams of light from the afternoon sun. "i like it a lot."

a dimple showed itself on his cheek, and you smiled back at it. he kissed you gently, and your shoulders raised at the goosebumps it gave you. "i do, too," he said, running his lips across your cheek and down your neck.

"seungcheol," you sighed. "we just took a bath."

"and you smell divine," he said, smiling against your skin. you laughed at him, mostly because of his near flat out refusal to bathe with you earlier. 

"i've drawn a bath," you had said, wearing only a satin robe as you returned to the main room. "i'd be happy if you joined me."

seungcheol was laid out on your bed, blanket covering as little as it had to, an arm laid over his face as he did his best to recover his soul after you had pulled it straight out of him twice. "go ahead," he replied, fearful of what seeing your form again would do to him. "i'll make sure no one bothers you."

you laughed, crawling onto your thick mattress to bother him a bit more. "my knight in shining armor, making sure none of the inhabitants of this abandoned castle bother me while i bathe."

"anything for my princess," he said, rolling his head towards where you laid, prodding at his chest.

"anything?"

he saw the mischief in your eyes, and god, he hated how easily he fell under your intoxicating spell. but he only hated it for a moment, before you led him into your candle-lit washroom, the flames glinting off the glistening tiles of your tub and a view of the surrounding forest through sheer curtains. all he could do was sigh in resignation as you held his hand, letting the robe fall off your shoulders.

during that bath, your name sounded like a song coming from his lips, and it fell upon your blushed ears in the most delightful way. you had never even imagined what the first time hearing your name in someone else's voice in eight years would be like, but you couldn't stop replaying that moment in your mind.

"there should be apples in a basket right inside the door of the pantry," you said, pointing to a door as you lit the candles in the kitchen. seungcheol went to the door you gestured to and grabbed a few of the red fruit, biting into one. you walked over to the window and drew the curtains, letting the sun in. you usually left them open, but the rain in the evening before made you even sadder than you had already been this week. now, opening them back up, it felt like a fresh beginning. 

"i have eggs," you said, tapping your cheek, realizing you truly didn't know how to entertain guests. "lots of fruit and vegetables. there's a whole field of potatoes."

seungcheol smiled as he approached you. "whatever you want, i'm not picky. i am going to give calli some apples, though."

you nodded and smiled when he planted a kiss on your cheek, then took another bite of the apple. you watched him trot up the steps to the hall where his horse waited, and you looked around briefly before deciding to wash rice and stoke a fire.

you didn't know how to cook before you came here. you still didn't, really, just the bits of things you remembered watching the cooks in the kitchen when you and your best friend were hiding from your fathers, but it had been enough for you to learn, alone, with only a young dragon as a mentor. meat scared you still - you tried to slaughter a chicken as a seventeen year old and you were so scared of undercooking it that you had roasted it dry - but you had learned how to work with everything that popped up in the plotted fields behind the castle. with the addition of horses, you had been able to take spare jewelry you found to the village and trade for some things you needed - hay and oats, mostly, to care for them - and some things you missed, like rice and cheese. you grunted lightly as you set the heavy cast iron bowl of rice and water over a stovetop, settling the wood lid on it as seungcheol returned.

"how can i help?"

you stared at him for a moment. "you want to help?"

his eyebrows raised. "yes?"

"sorry," you said suddenly, shaking your head as you squeezed your eyes shut. "this is still weird."

he laughed, leaning against the stone wall. "take your time, princess."

"how are your knife skills?"

he pouted and shrugged. "i manage."

you laughed, walking to the pantry to retrieve some vegetables. "do you like squash? they grew like crazy this year."

you checked the rice periodically as it boiled, and you stir fried the vegetables that seungcheol chopped for you. you found another rice bowl - you had never needed more than one - and filled both with rice before frying two eggs.

"i can't believe you've been alone all this time," he said later, pulling a spoon from his mouth. "how did you learn to do all this?"

you told him about your afternoons spent in the kitchen as a child, being more of a nuisance than anything. he laughed when you told him that you had tipped over a pot of stew into the fire below, extinguishing it and creating a thick paste as the stew mixed with ash. you had gotten banished from the kitchen for a year only a few months before you were taken, but you supposed you had picked up some translatable skills during your other visits. 

he asked you about your captor, the mad king that had instilled fear in your kingdom's people with your kidnapping. you told him that king edgar was driven to madness by a cruel curse, and you met his true self only after you had arrived to his kingdom - the kingdom whose people abandoned it in fear of the dragon - where he broke down and clutched you. you reminded him of his own daughter, he had said, a beautiful princess by the name of penelope. he said he never knew what came of her, but you knew she was the one that had been cursed.

"the dragon," seungcheol started, his breath catching. no wonder you shared such a close connection with her.

you nodded. "he thought he was crazy for hearing her voice in his head. she was trying to tell him the whole time."

you were quiet when you told him that the late king's madness is what killed him, only a year after you had arrived.

it was his idea to send calliope back to the kingdom with a letter. he was positive she would make it on her own - she had made the trip several times, despite the king forbidding seungcheol from attempting to save you until now. "scouting missions," he explained when you raised an eyebrow at him, his tone unconvincing. he understood why you wished to stay, and he really could not deny the allure of living in a private castle with you for a little while, but he worried that his delayed return would make everyone assume the worst.

"i could write a letter," he said, to tell them what had happened and that you needed time to wrap some things up here, gather the things that should come back with you. "or you could, my princess, if you're hoping for a more dramatic return."

you were laying in the grass, watching the sun reflect orange against the clouds as it began to set over the horizon, using seungcheol as a pillow. you hummed, rolling to lay on your stomach and plucking a blade of grass to inspect. he watched you, and tucked your hair behind your ear as you thought. "you should write it, i think. they might come to collect us if i do. should we send her off in the morning?"

he nodded at you, his hand still on your cheek. you leaned your head into it, craving the way he held you suddenly.

there were countless days where you had lain similar to where you were now, in the grass clearing surrounded by red rose bushes, the earliest times spent sobbing until your throat was sore and your eyes swollen while you came to terms with being truly alone here. now, though, you laid with your savior and lover, and his presence alone changed the atmosphere. suddenly, these roses that were a source of painful memory for you had an air of romance to them.

"should i tell them?" you wondered aloud. "that i chose to stay all these years?"

seungcheol's thumb glided across your cheek bone. "do you think they would understand?"

your eyebrows crinkled. "you know them better than me, now," you said, ripping the grass in your fingers to pieces. "i know mother would, but i'm not sure about father."

"i think he would," he said quietly. your eyes met his. "heartbreak breeds empathy. i'm sure he would even forgive king edgar if you told him his story."

you considered that for a moment. "maybe i should write the letter, then."

with calliope in the stables, penelope flew the two of you back to the tower for the evening so that you could figure out what all to write, but it was back in that garden the next evening, laying in that same spot, where seungcheol's fingers dug into your waist as you rode him, the sky painted pink and purple behind you. your hips rolled on his, your blouse unbuttoned too low and your pants discarded somewhere they shouldn't be, and you watched his neck stretch against the green grass, a bruise from your biting the previous day showing itself directly over a bulging vein. he filled you in a way that felt new every time, and you sighed, your hands against his bare chest pushing yourself up off him, only to sink down again repeatedly.

his hands tensed on you as he groaned, trying his best to hold out for your second release, but you were making it incredibly difficult for him. you leaned back, palms on his thighs as you lifted yourself off him, and you would never forget the erotic noise that fell from his lips as you seated yourself deeply.

"princess," he groaned, his hands hungrily running down your thighs. "i won't last much longer like this."

the title read more as a pet name, and you couldn't help but clench at the need in his voice, making him choke. "god, me neither."

"please," he gasped out, eyes pleading. "please, can i-"

you nodded desperately, and it took him only seconds to sit up, crossing his legs behind you, cradling you in his arms as he rolled his hips up into you. your jaw dropped in a silent moan, and it took a moment for your vocal chords to catch up, but it wasn't long before you were making all sorts of embarrassing noises for him.

"baby," he panted, his lips pausing their work against your throat. "oh, god, i'm gonna cum."

"yes," you begged. "please. please, seungcheol."

he groaned into your neck, and you whined as you felt him shoot into you, spurring your own orgasm. your throbbing walls milked him dry, and the two of you were panting as you came down, clutching each other in a garden.

you were grateful that he didn't comment on the way you practically waddled the rest of the evening, but you never noticed the proud look on his face whenever he watched you. he did that to you, he thought. and you wanted him to do it to you again and again and again.

each morning, when seungcheol woke with your bare form draped over his side, he felt like the luckiest man on the planet, and you couldn't help but smile when you woke to his quiet and gentle ministrations against your neck, his hands warm against your skin as he pulled you closer to him.

"my darling," he muttered against your throat, adoring the way you felt in his arms, and his honey coated voice made you drunk with desire despite the sleep in your eyes. "when will i ever get enough of you?"

you giggled as you reached for him, making him moan when your hand made contact with his member. "perhaps we'll slow down in a year."

seungcheol thought that sounded okay, but when you wrapped your warm mouth around him, it suddenly sounded too soon.

there was clothing you would miss too much, you told him. the tunics you wore as comfort for years, the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, and god, the trousers. you had never been allowed to wear them before, but the convenience of fewer, less cumbersome layers proved itself again and again, especially now that you had a reason to undress more often.

"i think you look beautiful," he announced matter of factly, seated in the floor only two feet away from you, when you said offhandedly that the dresses probably suited you more. "now and always."

you smiled at him as you folded the clothing into saddlebags. "you're not so bad to look at either," you said, letting him lean over the pile of clothing to kiss you.

the more seungcheol told you about the kingdom, the more you itched to return. you missed the trees and parks surrounding the castle grounds, the cobblestone streets that you would secretly wander down, and you especially missed the way people would smile at you and ask if you were away from the castle alone.

"of course," you would reply, exchanging coin for a snack of bread despite the baker's insistence that you take it for free. "do you think the guards would have let me if they knew?"

the people were your main reason to return. you thought of the citizens that you hadn't seen in so long. you wondered how the children you remembered coming into the world had grown up. you wondered how the shops managed. you asked seungcheol about some, the ones you could remember, and he happily told you the bakery a few blocks away from the back garden gates of the castle was doing well.

you missed your family. with the promise of seeing them soon, your heart ached, even if you had felt spiteful towards them in your youth. you would never agree with everything they did - thus was the nature of an ever evolving world - but you couldn't help but remember the times they had laughed with you. while they had expectations for you, they still cared for you. they still raised you. they still loved you unconditionally.

you missed everyone you saw every day, all the other inhabitants of the castle. your cousin, whose parents died in war when he was only a child, but always had a devil may care attitude anyways. the cooks and help you bothered, but always laughed at your antics. your handmaiden, who had always kept a close eye on you, even if she never told the king about your secret excursions. you thought of your father's right hand man and closest friend, advisor kim. you thought of his son, whom you had been raised with in the castle. he had always been your best friend, your beacon of common sense, and your slightly reluctant partner in crime. you spent much of your long years away daydreaming about his laugh and hugs.

"mingyu," you said, trailing off slightly. you were sitting in the shade of a tree, watching seungcheol throw knives at a target. "is he well?"

"advisor kim?" he adjusted his posture, grunting slightly as he put a telling amount of force behind his throw. "as well as he can be, i suppose. we don't speak much."

"not advisor kim," you said, brows furrowed. "his son. he's around our age."

seungcheol looked to you, his eyes softening. "oh, princess, i'm so sorry." he paused as he kneeled before you, putting a hand to your cheek. "mingyu's father passed six years ago. he's been the king's advisor ever since."

he held you as you sobbed against him, mourning the man you had referred to as your uncle for most of your childhood, and your heart shattered as you thought of all the loss mingyu had endured.

he was smart, and it made sense to you that the king asked him to succeed his father, though you thought it a little cruel. mingyu had always been the most well read person you knew, and was the reason you had decided to make a mission of reading every book in your stone prison. he always had excitedly told you about the latest novel he'd read, or what he had learned in the political journal he'd snuck from his father's office, eyes shining and baring the wolf-like grin you adored. you never understood it back then, but now, having reread most of the books you had access to, you couldn't wait to get your hands on anything he would recommend to you when you could ask him in only a few short days.

you asked that you spend an afternoon with penelope, and seungcheol respected your time with her, despite the boredom that itched at his legs while he sat in your tower alone. he counted your paintings for the umpteenth, wondering how had you done this for so long. he decided he would go check on the horses.

you asked penelope if she truly wished to stay. "we could find someone to help you," you said. "i'm sure father has someone that can reverse the spell."

sweet princess, her warm voice rang in your ears despite her never opening her mouth. i've no family, no subjects, and no sense of humanity. 

you chewed on your cheek, knowing your wet eyes gave you away. "you have me."

she chirped, nuzzling her nose against your arm. and for your companionship all these years, i am grateful. but punishing the wicked is my duty, i have accepted my fate and so should you.

"i accept it," you said, wiping at your face with the sleeves of your dress. "but i'll remain unhappy with it."

penelope's sweet giggle was your favorite thing to hear in your mind, for you could almost imagine the woman that it once belonged to. do visit sometime. though i'd prefer if you left the knight at home.

you laughed despite the tears streaming down your face, and your hand ran over her snout. "you would like mingyu more, anyways."

there were three horses to bring back with you, but only two riders. due to this fact alone, seungcheol told you it would likely take a full day to return to the kingdom.

"maybe longer," he thought aloud, his wandering eyes finding yours as you leaned against a post in the stable. "we might have to camp a night."

"leave in the morning, arrive the next?" he nodded at your question. "that's not awful. it's hard to believe that i've been this close to you this whole time."

seungcheol agreed with you, wishing that he had gone against the king's orders and found you sooner, especially when your fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "if only i had known how close i was to bliss, i would have been by your side for years."

you sighed, content, and wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek landing on his firm chest as he leaned into you.

the first time the phrase i love you came from him, he was curled over you in your bed. your hands were digging into his hair, his lips were slotted over yours, and you were trying your best to ignore the stinging in your eyes as he pushed into you again, the words hushed against your mouth.

you looked up at him, shellshocked, but he never took your silence as judgement. "i love you," he repeated. "more than i've ever loved another person."

a moan was forced from you with a combination of his words and his movements, and it jump-started your confession. "i love you, too, my knight."

his forehead rest against yours, slick with sweat, as he slowly drove himself into you. your thighs ached, partly from the repeated trips up and down the stairs as you packed, but mostly from the way he gripped the backs of them, pushing them until your knees were nearly at your shoulders. the angle let him too far into you, you thought. if anyone were to die from feeling too much pleasure, it would be you, in that moment, as seungcheol bit at your lower lip and muttered sweet nothings into your mouth.

after nearly a decade of ruling a lonely kingdom, you were so close to returning to the castle in which you were raised. you had set the chickens free from their coop, your horses were prepared for the journey, and your stomach ached at the thought. your nerves got the better of you as you emptied your stomach of its contents behind a tree.

"it's okay, my love," seungcheol said, his hands pulling your hair behind your shoulders and rubbing your back. "i'm right here."

"damn shame," you choked out, catching your breath. "i really enjoyed that breakfast."

he did his best to not laugh despite your joking tone. he stayed by your side as your head swam, and asked if the ride back should be delayed.

"no," you shook your head, accepting the water he handed you. "if we stay a day, i'll make excuses to stay forever. i'll be okay."

he recognized the defeat in your words. despite the weakened state you had woken up in, you were right. this place felt like paradise, and you never wanted it to end, but you had a kingdom waiting for you.

penelope watched over you both, laid out in the grass as you made your final preparations, and you wrapped your arms around her neck as you held back tears.

"i'll visit. i promise."

seungcheol wrung his fingers behind his back as he watched you speak with her quietly. he could never quite shake his fear of the majestic being (he had squeezed his eyes shut and clung to you whenever she had flown you two to the tower), and he had a feeling that she disliked him due to their first impression, but he knew you loved her like a sister. then, the dragon's deep firey eyes moved to meet his, her voice creeping into his mind for the first time, causing a chill to run up his spine.

protect her in my stead.

he put a hand over his heart and nodded, and when the dragon broke eye contact, he felt as though he finally understood her.

seungcheol kept a close eye on you as you rode river, a horse he couldn't remember the original name of, but that you named after the location at which you found him. he vaguely remembered the man that rode him before, but he was one that seungcheol had never liked much. every time you swayed slightly, he insisted on taking a break so you could lay down, but you waved him off, not wanting to delay your return any more than you already had.

"oh, dear seungcheol," you said, a smile on your lips. "you will be such an empathetic king one day. good thing i'll be there to make the hard decisions."

he couldn't argue - he never could. you were wise beyond your years and more observant than the people he debated against at home, most of which with whom his arguments ended in him threatening to fight. but with you, he always understood the deep thought and logic behind your words. you had a way of speaking that calmed conflict instead of fostering it, and for that reason alone, he thought you were destined to rule, and he would happy to be by your side as you did.