#it would not be unlike the moon sitting not even a yard away from the sun

[3knecrotic]

Most of the time watching her grow and get healthier fills me with a lot of joy and relief because she deserves it after all she's been through

Rare times the slimy part of me gets slightly louder over being viscerally uncomfortable with being romantically tied to someone who is exponentially getting healthier and better and sweeter while I'm. Not even in a place mentally where I can subjectively even Want to recover?

And the contrast. Irrks me. Mh.

[princesssszzzz]

Sweet

Pairing: Jacaerys x Rhaena

Warning: Targcest

Word count: 3.7k

Jace and Rhaena grow close while living at Dragonstone ~ Wholesome fluff

Read on AO3

In the quiet chambers of Dragonstone, the gentle clinking of a needle against fabric filled the air. Rhaena sat by the large opening of her balcony, sunlight streaming in and casting a warm glow over her delicate features. Her nimble fingers moved with practiced precision, embroidering a majestic dragon with shimmering scales onto a piece of rich velvet. She decided to model this one after Balerion, having already completed Meraxes, Vhagar, Caraxes, and Meleys. Moondancer's much smaller embroidery into lace had been the first project of Rhaena's, and Baela gleamed at the gift when Rhaena gave it to her during her visit to Driftmark.

As she worked, her gaze often drifted towards the training yard below, where Jace was once again engaged in a fierce sword practice. She used to sit inside, choosing to spend these hours daydreaming in solace. Moons ago, Rhaena moved her seat from aside the fireplace to the balcony to watch Jace and entertain herself while she worked. She smiled softly as he rushed back to his feet after getting knocked down by the much larger trainer. His movements had grown fluid and more graceful, his growing display of strength and skill never failed to captivate her. At her feet, little Aegon toddled around with his toy, interrupting Rhaena's quiet by giggling with glee as he tried to mimic Jace's sword swings with his tiny arm.

Rhaena couldn't help but giggle at the sight of the boy. With Daemon and his busy mother, she found this child was near her a lot. She didn't mind, being that he was sweet and didn't cry too much. Everyone else came and went as they pleased with their dragons, while Rhaena was here spending so much time at Dragonstone. Atleast baby Aegon couldn't fly away and leave her, at least not yet. The birth of Aegon had brought Jace and Rhaena closer. They had already grieved Laena and Harwin together, ate dinner together, lived together. But this was different. They shared a sibling now, and Rhaena felt they were now closer than cousins simply living on the same island. She thought about how this is such a Valyrian way of thinking. If she were in House Stark or Martell, cousins would be close enough.

The growing bond was evident even in Rhaena and Jace's interactions. Aegon's birth left both Jace and Rhaena spending time together fussing over the baby. She was always nurturing, but missing the chance to coo at her own loss brother Baelon. A new found appreciation was gained for Jace. Unlike Rhaena, this wasn't his first time being an older sibling. She assumed this is how Baela was when Rhaena was born, cooing over her younger sister. Jace's protective nature towards their young brother warmed her heart, and she found herself admiring him not just for his prowess with a sword, but for the kindness and patience he showed towards others. Especially her.

Rhaena blushed, looking down to regain focus on her needling.

Lost in her thoughts, Rhaena continued to stitch the intricate patterns of the dragon, the needle glinting in the sunlight like a tiny silver dragon's claw. She loved the image of ancient traditions, it filled her with a sense of contentment that she cherished. She had no suspicions Jace felt the same way about her, but he was careful with his intentions. He thought Rhaena seemed to be naive and oblivious to the strained relationship he held with his mother's new husband.

Busy with her stitching, Rhaena suddenly heard a familiar voice calling her name. Looking up, she saw Jace motioning to her, letting her know he was on his way inside. She had brought Aegon down to the common quarters to sit with his wet nurse and she approached Jace raising her eyebrows. His princely figure was cutting a striking silhouette against the backdrop of the ancient castle walls. His dark eyes sparkled with a warmth that always made Rhaena's heart flutter.

"Rhaena?" Jace said, his voice gentle yet commanding, "I was wondering if you would accompany me on a ride with Vermax."

Surprised yet intrigued by his request, Rhaena smiled and nodded eagerly. She couldn't help the warmth that spread across her cheeks upon accepting his offer. This was the first time he'd asked her. Rhaena rushed outside after changing her outfit, seeing Jace had also changed into riding clothes. He was glad his mother and Daemon were off to the mound, so he didn't have anyone questioning his sudden invitation to Rhaena. In truth, he had no errand to run, no excuse to take her anywhere. His busy schedule to train for future kingship had rarely given him free time to do this.

As the sun began its descent, casting a golden glow over the ancient walls of their castle, Rhaena approached Vermax, the majestic dragon that Jace had invited her to ride. Jace, ever the gentleman, was standing waiting for her and held out his hand to help Rhaena onto the dragon's back. Her heart raced with excitement as she settled in behind Jace, wrapping her arms around his waist for support. With a gentle nudge, Vermax spread his growing wings and ascended to the sky, the wind whipped through their hair while they soared through the air. The

The landscape unfolded beneath them, a breathtaking tapestry of rugged cliffs and crashing waves. Jace's strong presence in front of her filled Rhaena with security and warmth, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her heart. As they watched the sun slowly dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, Jace couldn't shake the feeling that was blossoming in his chest. He wanted to turn around and steal a glance at Rhaena, but decided it's better to watch where he was going.

A shadow lingered in his thoughts, the knowledge that Rhaena's father, Daemon, might not approve of their growing closeness. Jace pushed the worry aside, determined to savor this precious moment with Rhaena pressed close to him, flying into the evening sky and their hearts soaring as one. As they flew through the sky, the wind whispering in their ears, Jace still couldn't shake the nagging thought of Daemon's potential disapproval. That the man's icy demeanor was like a looming shadow over their blossoming relationship, and Jace was sure to notice how Daemon treated the young Aegon much more fatherly. Despite the exhilaration of flying on Vermax's back with Rhaena's arms wrapped around him, a sense of foreboding lingered in his mind.

He felt Rhaena sigh, nestling closer against his chest and with her breath warm on his neck, Jace felt a rush of emotions. Her presence recently was growing intoxicating, and the closeness between them ignited a fire within him. The way her soft curves molded against his body, the hint of her floral fragrance mixing with the familiar scent of Vermax—it was all too much for Jace to handle.

As they rode through the darkening sky, the heat of the moment and the adrenaline of their flight stirred something deeper within Jace. His thoughts strayed to places he knew they shouldn't, his mind painting vivid images of what could be if they dared to explore the desires that simmered beneath the surface. Jace's heart raced with a heady mix of longing and guilt, his grip on Vermax's scales tightening involuntarily. The relaxation of the flight, their clandestine closeness, and the nature of their growing attraction created a potent cocktail of emotions that Jace struggled to contain.

Lost in the whirlwind of sensations, he found himself using one hand to cover Rhaena's hand. Clinging to her as if she were his lifeline, his every nerve on edge with desire and apprehension. They descended through the now starlit sky, with only the beating of dragon wings and the rush of wind as witness, Jace and Rhaena danced on the edge of something beautiful.

The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air. Inside the grand dining hall, the long table was adorned with flickering candles, gleaming silverware, and plates of steaming food. Rhaena sat at the table with a maroon dress, her eyes sparkling, Joffrey and Aegon on either side of her. Across from her, Jace, with his princely demeanor, sat looking regal, his eyes occasionally meeting Rhaena's with a slight smile. Lucerys and Joffrey were busy teasing each other, their laughter ringing through the hall.

Daemon, the stern and imposing figure of the family, sat at the head of the table, spoke to his wife and their usual dinner guest. It was usually a Lord or Lady from another house, and Jace was always the first to make their guest feel taken care of. As plates of roasted meats, savory stews, and freshly baked bread were passed around, the family engaged in lively conversation. Stories of the day's events and occasional jokes filled the air. Rhaena wished Baela and her grandmother could've been there. Amidst the clinking of silverware and the occasional outburst of laughter, she stole glances at Jace, her heart fluttering at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The tension that lingered between them from their recent flight on Vermax was palpable, adding an undercurrent of feeling to the evening.

As the meal came to a close, and the last crumbs were cleared away, Rhaena felt a sense of contentment finally wash over her. She would never complain to her father about this but she had felt so alone without her mother, and feeling torn apart when she realized Baela would not be living with her. Rhaena wasn't close to her father, aware he wasn't the type of parent to give the warmth and love she'd heard from her handmaidens stories of their own fathers. She had come to Dragonstone shocked at the difference from Pentos. Pentos was lively, a big city with plenty of kids running around that she could make friends with. Now she was living among all boys, seeing as Rhaenyra had no daughters and the only girls close to her age being the occasional ladies who came to visit and the few girls her age that lived here. She didn't realize until then just how isolated she was and her growing introversion. But with Jace's reassuring presence, she was feeling different now. In that moment, as the candles flickered and the warmth of the hearth enveloped them, Rhaena couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and connection that bound them together.

The soft sounds of Rhaena's laughter echoed under the tree they sat at as she patiently corrected Jace's pronunciation of a High Valyrian word. Warm light danced in her eyes, reflecting the joy she felt in these moments spent with him. Jace couldn't help but chuckle at his own mistakes, encouraged by Rhaena's gentle teasing. These unofficial lessons of his were the only time he didn't feel pressured, earlier he'd get frustrated feeling the need to overcompensate. Rhaena's softness had a way to calm him down and reassure the young Prince. He watched as she moved her long shining hair back and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he tried once more, determined to get it right this time. Wrong again. The bond between them grew stronger with every shared giggle and every mispronounced word.

Outside, the gardens of Dragonstone bloomed with the colors of spring, a perfect backdrop for these late meetings. Ever since their first flight together, Jace would often steal moments away from his princely duties to walk with Rhaena among the flowers, their voices hushed in conversation. In those stolen moments, he would slip small gifts into her hands, tokens of his affection. Whenever he got the chance, he would taker Rhaena into the skies with him. He knew she wanted a dragon, and was wanting her pale pink egg to hatch but he was secretly glad it didn't. He wanted her with him, and felt pride knowing he could give her that. Rhaena, in turn, would eagerly help Jace navigate the intricacies of High Valyrian, her lilac eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she explained the nuances of the ancient language. It was very difficult so she was grateful for the lessons Laena had given her, and for the first time, she was in a position of teaching and having more knowledge than him. A stark contrast to him explaining the many different commands he gave Vermax.

"Egros. This is an easy one." Jace repeated the word she pointed to on his book, pronouncing it correctly. Rhaena beamed with pride at his progress while her eyes traveled down to the weapon attached to his belt. Her expression quickly shifted when Jace asked her what the word meant. Without missing a beat, Rhaena quietly replied, "Knife."

Her gaze stayed on the knife that Jace had tucked in, a blade that held a significant memory for both of them. It was the very same knife he had when they first met, during the intense confrontation with Aemond. The memory of that tumultuous event hung heavy in the air, the fear and tension of that moment still straining. Rhaena's eyes filled with sorrow as she recalled the adrenaline-fueled clash, the unnecessary danger they had faced together.

Jace noticed the shift in her mood and gently took her hand in his, offering a reassuring squeeze. "It's ok, Rhaena. We stood together then, and we always will," he murmured, his voice filled affection. As Jace's fingers grabbed at the knife, instinctively wanting to remove it from it's hilt and show her. However, Rhaena couldn't help but feel a pang of disapproval tugging at her heart as she watched him. This blade had once been a source of danger and caused so much chaos.

"Jace, I... I don't like seeing that knife out," Rhaena began, her gaze pleading with him to understand her unease. "I know it's important to you, but it reminds me of a time I wish we could forget."

Jace's brow furrowed, before returning it to it's place. He had to remind himself that she wasn't Baela, the older girl loved play fight with him and marvel at weapons when he flies to visit her and his grandparents.

Rhaena's eyes flickered as she shook her head, the gold in her locs clinking together. Her voice tinged with sadness and frustration. "I don't understand, Jace. I don't understand what's between you and Aemond, why we have to avoid King's Landing and can't patch things up with the rest of our family. She thought to her uncle who was so nice to her, he'd send books and even invited her to visit his grand library. She was unsuprised and sad when Daemon found the letter and threw it away, declaring that they wouldn't be taking her to King's Landing for a visit.

She continued. I don't know why there's so much resentment. Why Aemond was so mean to me."

Jace's features hardened as he remembered Aemond taking out his frustration on Rhaena, "I'm sorry, Rhaena. I didn't realize... I'll put the knife away," he vowed.

A wave of guilt washed over him. He realized the weight of the chaos that Rhaena and Baela were entangled in immediately upon their return to Westeros. With a heavy heart, he leaned in.

"I'm so sorry, Rhaena," Jace began apologizing again, his voice tinged with remorse. "I should've kept my emotions under control, made sure you and Baela were shielded from all this mess with my uncle." He sighed, thinking back to Harwin Strong and hearing about his brutal death.

"I promise to stand by you, especially in the troubling times to come. I'll always protect you, dear sister."

The heartfelt declaration was sealed with his gentle kiss, symbolizing their unbreakable bond and the unwavering support they promised each other in the face of any adversity. Feeling a surge of protectiveness and affection towards Rhaena, Jace had reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. In that moment of shared vulnerability and unspoken emotions, Jace leaned in, pressing tenderly into Rhaena's lips.

The world around them seemed to fade away. Jace pulled back, his expression reflecting the deep emotion that surged through him.

"You mean everything to me, sweet Rhaena."

He marveled at Rhaena while kissing her again. She was more fragile than him, but could hold such strength in her gentle presence. As Jace used his tongue to graze her's, he appreciated replacing the usual aggression he felt he had to muster when speaking to Daemon or engaging in training sessions with a tender and protective aura whenever he touched Rhaena.

In those moments, his hands, which were accustomed to wielding swords and fighting in the yard now moved with a gentle grace as they traced the contours of her delicate features. His touch, once fueled by intensity and determination, now exuded a soothing delicacy.

With each caress, Jace's actions spoke louder than words, conveying his unwavering support and love for the precious girl who had captured his heart.

Jace's words were accompanied by a tender caress of her cheek, the gentle gesture conveying his unending devotion and affection. Rhaena melted into his arms, cherishing the moment of comfort and intimacy with her beloved Jace. The shared vulnerability of their confessions and the intensity of their bond only fueled the growing attraction between them, igniting a powerful desire that burned brightly within both of them. Rhaena's eyes flickered with desire, the heat of her blush reflecting her inner turmoil.

As the night enveloped the garden, casting a soothing glow over the flowers and herbs, Rhaena and Jace refused to leave their tender embrace. A promise of love and the stars twinkled above them, offering a celestial witness to the moment of pure emotion that passed between them.

Moons had passed since their first kiss, and the bond between Rhaena and Jace had only intensified. Jace found himself seeking any excuse to steal moments alone with Rhaena, cherishing each stolen kiss and secret embrace. On a quiet evening, as the castle lay hushed in slumber, Jace found himself in Rhaena's chambers. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the windows, casting a silver sheen over everything it touched. Rhaena had just given him the embroidery she made portraying Vermax's mix of colors. Jace favored it. His heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he lay beside her on the bed, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray loc of hair from her face.

With only the sound of their hushed breaths filling the room, Jace leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a sweet and tender kiss. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them caught in a moment suspended in time. As their lips lingered a gentle rustle of fabric caused Jace to pull back slightly, his heart skipping a beat. He knew his mother and Daemon was off the island, having flown off somewhere, he didn't bother to care where but them leaving the castle afforded him rare moment of solitude with her. Jace wouldn't dare be here if Daemon was lurking about.

With a shared glance of silent understanding, Jace and Rhaena let their inhibitions fall away, allowing themselves to revel in the stolen intimacy of the night. In the quiet sanctuary of her chamber, their love bloomed like a delicate flower under the moon's watchful gaze, each stolen kiss a testament to the depth of their affection. Rhaena seemed to him more enchanting than usual, her eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of innocence and desire. The air between them crackled with an undeniable tension, a silent understanding passing between them.

Without a word, Jace's touch more urgent more primal than before. His hands and lips moved with a newfound intensity, tracing the curve of her jaw, the line of her neck, igniting a fire that burned hot and bright within them both. Rhaena's breath hitched at the sudden change in his demeanor, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.

Feeling his rougher touch, Rhaena let out a soft gasp, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. "Jace, I can't wait for you to be my King," she whispered in confession, the word King slipping from her lips like a forbidden promise, a term of endearment and acceptance that fueled the flames of the young Prince. Jace's eyes darkened with a hunger, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he slid on top of her and drank in the sight of her beneath him. The title he didn't yet possess but she bestowed upon him sent a jolt of electricity through his body.

She seemed to realize the effect her words had on him when she placed her hand on his chest, running her fingers through his curled hair.

"I want you, Jace," Rhaena whispered in his ear. His breath caught in his throat as her words filled him with a surge of confidence and purpose. The young prince had never felt more alive, more certain of his destiny and the future he would share with his precious Rhaena. The world around them seemed to fade away when he slipped his cock inside her, leaving only the two of them and the unbreakable bond that connected them. Their heavy kissing seeming to have already prepared her body for him, allowing him to move with fervor. He wished he could stay in her wetness forever as he grunted on top of her.

"Rhaena, my sweet Rhaena," Jace murmured, his voice a soft caress. "You light my days."

Rhaena looked up at him, her eyes shining with affection. She didn't say anything in response, but just smiled.

They remain intertwined with the sounds of their passion, creating a symphony of love that enveloped them in its embrace. In that moment, there was only them, two souls bound together in a love that knew no boundaries.

Rhaena was no fool, aware that her father had no intentions on marrying her to Jace. She decided she would would enjoy him for now. For now, she could only anticipate the next time she could spend with Jace.

[kayla-2]

I think Nyx and each family member will have a specific hang out spots or activists:

Feyre: Of course, her art studio. I feel like nyx probably has his own space there with all his tools. He wears a little apron and tries to copy feyre mannerisms when she’s teaching. Even when he’s older he will always makes time to go with her. I also think their spot would be in their home. I can see them having late night conversations on their couch or waiting for Rhys to come home in his office. Lounging around in the sitting room. Sitting outside in the yard. They are a homey family.

Rhys: I think Rhys and Nyx spot would be anywhere with a high view. Maybe a specific cliff or mountain that look over Velaris. A Simba and Mufasa moment. Somewhere they can fly above everything and be away from everyone and talk. I also feel like Nyx will find or ask about where Rhys buried his sister and mother and visit his grandmother and aunt with Rhys.

Morrigan: A nice, small cafe in velaris where they meet often as Nyx grows up. It becomes apart of their routine after shopping and he never misses their little days. Maybe even the house she has hidden from everyone that we learned about in frost and starlight and Nyx is the only one that goes. Or even knows where it is

Amren: Amren and Nyx don’t have a designated spot but specific activities. Whenever Amren is doing a puzzle, he can just sit next to her and start to help her without asking. Or he has an history question that turns into hours and hours of talking and learning. Amren and Nyx consistently talking has made him almost an expert in the history of Prythian

Cassian: Their spot would be Rhys Mother’s cabin. Cassian has alot of specific troubles in his childhood and the cabin holds plenty of good memories that he can share with Nyx. Nyx is always at the house of wind when cassian isn’t in the Illyrian mountains. Of course, they train and tussle together but they also do a lot of fun things and cassian gives nyx a lot of experiences. Like parties, drinks, relationship advice as he grow up.

Azriel: I think their spot would be water. Maybe a sea or a small river. Azriel likes calm and silence. I can picture them walking along some sea, talking silently and watching the moon. I feel like Azriel is very important to Nyx when he is angry and need solid, advice. Unlike the rest of his family who would just rush and try to fix everything for him. Azriel and him talk about fears and dedication as the oldest child of Feyre and Rhysand.

Elain: The Garden. Since I saw that fanart of Nyx carrying Elains gardening supplies. I can always picture him knowing so much about flowers. As he grows up he can just burst out random facts he learned from Elain. I also feel like when he’s in trouble, he goes to elain as she is a seer and she can calm him about the future and things that will happen. Nyx and Elain plan most of Feyres birthday cakes and food.

Bonus:

Varian will show Nyx little water animals when he’s visiting the night court.

Nyx favorite court to visit will be the Day Court and High Lord Helion is like a godfather.

Nyx loves Velaris and is known to be everywhere in the city, where he helps, speak, and entertain people.

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Stowaway ~ SCB [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 7.6K

PAIRING: Captain Changbin x Stowaway Reader

GENRE: smut, pirate au, first time, angst, speaks of drowning, oral F receiving, romantic smut.

A/N: Set between 1720 and 1750 

Panting heavily as you raced down the boat docks you did your best to try and avoid being seen by the men that were chasing you. All of this because you had stolen some small apple and a loaf of bread from a food stand. Which they were going to throw away anyway since it was the end of the night.

What were they really going to do with it? It was almost midnight and you were starving, you hadn't eaten in almost four days, you needed something.

“Where did she go!?” One of them yelled in a rough voice as they lost sight of you in the darkness. Pressing your back against one of the wooden boats you held your hand over your chest as if they would find you just from the sound of how hard it was beating. If they found you there was no question about it you would be dead on the spot. No one liked thieves let alone female thief who had no family and no means of paying them back. They'd find you, kill your or worse cut your fingers off and leave you to deal with the gangrene or dying through blood loss.

"She must have gone through one of the houses. This way!" The smaller male said as he stared around, they'd been on your tail for almost twenty minutes not once letting up. 

You let out a small breath staying completely still until you knew for sure that the men were gone and it was safe to come out from your hiding spot. 

It wasn't as if you enjoyed stealing but it was the only way you could stay alive. Not many places except the brothel were willing to hire someone that was homeless. Being on the run for almost 3 years had no benefits besides the one where you got away from your family. You would rather spend your life on the run than one more minute with them. 

The longer you stood on the docks the heavier your eyes began to get but you couldn't run into town now. The men would still be on the lookout for you and most of the pubs were overrunning with pirates. Pirates from all over the world had sailed all day and night before sleeping in a real bed before heading out the next day. As a kid, you used to dream of being a pirate, setting sail to see the whole entire world but of course, the dream would never come true. Females on ships were forbidden, it was a sign of bad luck and a sure sign that a ship would sink.

Staring up at the boat you had been leaning against you checked to see if there was any sign of someone on board. It would only be for one night, it wasn't as though you were going to be a stowaway and go on an adventure with them. One night of peaceful sleep was all you wanted.

It was highly unlikely anyone was on board the ship anyway, most of the men loved to drink at night and would stay in the hotels and brothels. There were no candles left burning that you could see and the whole place appeared to be empty so you threw your small bag through one of the portholes and waited. 

Waited to see if someone heard it and came running or if there was someone on the docks that would hear you but there was nothing. Finally somewhere comfy and somewhat safe that you could sleep for at least one night. 

Stepping onto the deck you looked around for any signs that someone could still potentially be there but it was clear. The whole ship was a mess, the deck was covered with a thick layer of filth, clothes were left everywhere it was a wonder the captain even let his crew live like this. Who were you to complain when it was a free bed for the night? Somewhere peaceful for you to eat your bread and apple and lay your head for one night. 

"Disgusting," You mumbled climbing down into the base of the ship to find it even more of a mess than the top. There were more clothes thrown over barrels, there was dust that covered everything down there that the clothes didn't touch. It was a wonder how anyone lived on the boat without going insane but you grabbed some of the blankets and began trying to make a make-shift bed on the floor. No use complaining about the filth when it was one of the warmest places you'd gotten to sleep in for a while.

As you laid there to yourself staring out of the window at the moon you couldn't remember the last time you had slept in a real bed...The last time you had gone to sleep without a weapon in your hand. It was going to be the first time in years you could sleep without someone yelling at you to get of their yard or that you couldn't sleep under a pub table. It was peaceful.

Taking in a large breath of the sea air Changbin smiled to himself, it almost the middle of the day and he and his crew had been sailing for a few hours now. 

"Jisung!" He cried out as he looked over the state of the ship. This was supposed to be one of the most terrifying ships known to all pirates and men and yet it looked like the most revolting. 

"I'm sick of this place looking so bad, we need to look after it." He told his right-hand man, Chan, as they stood at the wheel of the ship looking out at the vast amounts of nothing that surrounded them. There was nothing to be seen for miles on end, just waves, birds and the off piece of wood left from wreckages. 

"Yes, Captain?" Jisung asked as he rushed over to Changbin looking up at him as he waited for further instructions. 

"Go below deck and fetch the mop bucket, I want this place cleaned up before we reach Midscape," Jisung nodded before disappearing towards the hatch and Changbin continued to stare at everything in front of him. Midscape was going to be their big break, the kingdom of Quinnar was about to hold a large festival which meant there were going to be plenty of opportunities for them. Plenty of ships to steal from, the seaside towns would be too busy focusing on the partying to notice food and drinks going missing.

"The usual job? Go in, steal and get out?" Chan questioned as he noticed how hard Changbin seemed to be concentrating. 

"Yeah, we'll need one of the boys on pickpocketing, we could get some jewels while we're there." Chan nodding along about to say something when Jisung came speeding over to the wheel, out of breath and as white as a sheet. 

"Girl...Below...Deck." He panted out as he looked up at Changbin anxiously,

"What?"

"There's a girl, asleep below deck." The whole ship came to a standstill as they stared at Jisung, all that could be heard were the waves crashing against the side of the boat. 

"What do you mean a girl? A little girl? A teenager? A woman?" Changbin pressured to answer him but he was taking far too long, 

"Move." He grunted locking the wheel into place before heading towards the hatch of the boat. 

Laying there was a girl Changbin had noticed the night before running through one of the pubs. You'd been clutching a loaf of bread and an apple the last time he saw you.

"What shall we do? Females are bad luck on ships." Seungmin muttered as he watched you sleeping, clutching a blanket around your body as your shivered. 

"Throw her overboard, we don't need bad luck," Jisung grumbled watching as you laid your head on one of his shirts. 

"Don't be stupid," Changbin hissed never taking his eyes off you. He'd seen people like this before, forced to sleep in rough places because they had nowhere else to go. Just from the state of your clothes, he knew you'd not had a real home for a while, 

"She's a stowaway-"

"She clearly had nowhere else to go. I doubt she meant to sail along with us," Chan cut Hyunjin off as he looked at his captain. Changbin had still yet to say anything on the matter as he continued to watch you sleep. 

"Let her sleep. When she wakes you tell her to come and see me in my cabin." With that he left, leaving the boys stunned as he walked away as if nothing had happened. 

Waking up to seven sets of eyes staring down at you wasn't your idea of a wake-up call. You flinched clutching the sheets around your body as you stared at each of them. All of them looked as though they were angry at you, all except for one who was just sitting and holding some food. 

"I bought some food in case you were hungry," The blonde with freckles said as he pushed a small wooden tray towards you but you didn't move. 

"Our Captain wants to see you." Another one with dark hair and a mole under his right air said to you as you nodded. Completely in shock that you had woken up to them standing there, 

"I didn't mean to sleep so much...I-I just needed to crash for-"

"Don't explain it to us. Explain to Captain Changbin." Fear radiated through your entire body as the curly-haired boy spoke of his name. The most feared pirate in most of the kingdoms. 

"Changbin?" You stuttered out as you looked at each of the men. You hadn't even bothered looking for a ship name last night, you were too tired to care.

"Welcome aboard the Fae Rouge." The curly-haired man announced as he watched you stand up a little shakily. 

"Felix. Show her to Changbin's cabin." He ordered as he began cleaning up the clothes you had been using as a bed for the night. Staring at you as you and Felix began to leave, heading up the stairs, Felix allowing you to go first while he looked away. You were dressed in wenches dress covered in holes and dirt from all of the times you had slept in the streets. 

"We're on the water?!" You panicked looking around you as you saw nothing but sea, you were only meant to sleep until daylight. 

"Judging by the panic I guess you didn't mean to become a stowaway?" Felix questioned softly as he began to lead you over the main deck floor towards the Captains cabin below the quarter deck.

"I just needed somewhere safe to sleep." You admitted as you waited outside the door of the cabin. A huge wooden door with a dragon knocker on the front of it.

"Come in." A voice grunted from inside, your stomach began to do flips as you were ushered inside by Felix only to have him leave when you were standing in front of a desk. There was a chair behind it face out of the windows staring at the ocean. The chair turned and sitting there was someone you had grown to know through stories and wanted posters. His face was no different to the drawings you had seen, he was handsome and charming. There was a purple bandana wrapped around his head and a scar on his eyebrow that stopped hairs from growing. 

There were stories that he'd gotten the scar from fighting with palace guards in Atlantia when he was last there but other stories claimed it was nothing more than a birthmark.

"I'm sorry Captain Changbin! I didn't mean to, I just needed someone safe to lay my head for the night! I never would have climbed on board if I had known it was your ship," You spoke so quickly you'd barely had time to register what it was that you were saying to him. Doing your best to not be killed or thrown overboard to die.

"But you would have climbed on board if it was someone else's?" He questioned as he stared at you, impressed that you were so out-spoken with him.

"No...Yes but-" He cut you off before you could continue,

"Did you or did you not climb onto my ship without permission?"

"Yes-"

"Did you or did you not set sail with us?" He stood up and rested his hands on the desk in front of him glancing at the map and then up to you.

"Yes, but I didn't mean to..." As you were about to explain your plan for waking up he cut you off once again.

"You're a stowaway, whether you meant it or not."

"I had nowhere else to go! I couldn't sleep in the streets for one more night," You finally cried out, raising your voice just a little as you stared at him. Changbin was taken back by it, not once had anyone ever spoken back to him but it impressed him.

"You have no home? No family?" It wasn't a way of being mean it was a way of finding out the truth. If you truly had nowhere to go he was going to take pity on you but never show it.

"No one, sir...I have no one." The room fell into silence and he sighed sitting back down in his chair. 

"Felix!" He bellowed out watching the door as Felix came through it, looking directly at his captain. 

"She's the new cleaner. Show her the ropes, for god sake get her some clean clothes." He grumbled before turning to look back out of the windows. 

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" You yelled out as Felix pulled you from the room, shutting the door and looking at you. 

"I'll find something in the cabins you can wear until we reach Quinnar. Then we'll have to buy you something suitable." You ignored the looks you were gaining from the six other men that were now on the deck. 

"I won't lie, they wanted to throw you overboard,"

"I don't blame them...Females on pirate ships always mean bad luck." You grumbled following him into another cabin to find seven beds lining one wall of the room, chests on the other. 

"Here." Felix began rooting through one of his chests to pull out some black breeches with eight buttons on the front. 

"Then I'm sure Chan won't mind if you wear one of his linen shirts," He pulled out a white long-sleeved shirt with the front dipped down, laces to keep from exposing the chest. 

"I'll let you change and then I'll introduce you to them all. You're going to be here for a while you might as well learn our names." He chuckled softly leaving you to change out of your dirty rags and into the new clothes. 

"Changbin asked her to clean, he wants her on the ship." You hear Felix telling the boys as you came out onto the main deck. The shirt had to be tucked in with how long it was but it was comfortable and felt nice to be in fresh clothing. 

"We never learnt your name," Chan said as he watched you walking towards Felix, you stood beside the freckled boy. 

"I never learnt yours." You countered back making Felix smirk from beside you. He'd heard you inside the Captains cabin talking back to Changbin whenever you got. 

"I'm Bang Chan," The curly-haired man said as he looked at you, 

"Hwang Hyunjin," The boy with the mole under his eye said as he smiled at you, all of them going in a line until it got to Jisung who just stared at you. 

"She's not going to bite you." Felix hissed but he said nothing, 

"I'm Y/n." The boys stared at you, 

"No last name?" Felix frowned as he heard you only say a first name. It was uncommon for a female to go by just a first name unless they had been disowned or family killed off.

"No. Not anymore." You looked over at Jisung hoping that he would now say something to you. 

"Han Jisung." He grumbled as he looked at Felix before storming off towards the wheel. 

"Don't mind him, he's new to the crew and you're replacing him as the new guy." You nodded along and followed the boys as they began telling you what you could and couldn't clean around the ship.

It was a few days into your time with them all and you'd grown to know each of them on a personal level. Except for Changbin who spent most of his time in his cabin or manning the wheel. The boys had arranged for you to continue sleeping below deck, making you a bed out of old blankets and a spare pillow. Although it wasn't one of the best situations it was better than anything you'd had in the many years leading up to this moment. You were being fed two meals a day, given a warm place to sleep and all for cleaning the ship which was no hassle for you.

The only problem there was on the ship was Changbin, he seemed to have a problem with you but you put that down to being a stowaway on his ship. Whenever you would do a simple thing wrong he would yell at you for it, causing a scene or just being rude in general. Changbin would give you all of the harder tasks if you had finished your cleaning for the day but the boys would try to help if and when they could.

"Jisung! Put it down! Y/n is perfectly capable!" Changbin squawked from the Helm of the ship. Even if Jisung had a disliking to you at first he let up in the end, doing his best to help with some of your chores. 

"Go and join the boys," You whispered as you continued washing the main deck. It involved using a single scrub brush to scrub each and every small wooden panel of the boat with soapy water.

"If you could not do this job you should never have climbed aboard." Changbin bellowed as you ignored him, scrubbing as hard as you could at the floor. This was one job that took everything out of you that you had to do every other day, spending almost your entire day going over the entire boat. 

"When you're done the windows in my cabin need washing." Changbin was now standing over you, watching as you scrubbed harder and harder. Changbin admired how hard you were willing to work for him but he wasn't going to say it out loud and risk being seen as soft.

"Yes, Captain." You spoke as you looked up at him, he moved away from you before disappearing back into his cabin leaving Chan in charge of the wheel.

The floors were clean and there were still a few more hours of daylight left, Felix had called you out onto the main deck. 

"We'll be arriving in Quinnar in two days. You better sharpen your skills." He threw a sword in your direction making you laugh as you caught it by the handle. 

"Am I allowed on shore with you?" You questioned as he began to come towards you, holding the sword up as though he was ready to attack. 

"I can't see why not, I'll find you some clothes and then I'll show you around." You remembered Felix had said he had lived in Quinnar almost all of his life until he ran away to join Changbin. 

Watching you and Felix pretending to fight on the deck was beginning to irritate Changbin so he barged out of his room. 

"Since you don't know how to follow simple directions," He grunted as he took the swords away from you both, throwing them to Jeongin who scrambled to put them away. 

"I asked you to clean my windows since you want to learn to be a pirate instead...Show me what you've got." Frowning as you turned to look at Changbin you waited for him to explain what it was that he meant. 

"I saw you stealing the night you left, show me what you've got...We'll see if we can put you to good use." Standing up straight you looked at him wondering how this was going to work when he had set you up to the task. 

"You'll know because you're watching," He hummed at you,

"So it continues for the rest of the night...You'll steal from us and we'll see what you come back with at dinner." Nodding along with him you glanced over at Seungmin who was smirking. 

"Bet we catch you," Smirking back over at him you shook your head. 

"Bet you don't." 

The end of the night came faster than you had been expecting it to and now all nine of you were crowded around a large table below deck.

"Well...You failed, I'm not missing anything." Changbin said smugly as he poured himself a glass of ale, you hummed standing up from the table. 

"I think you'll find, you're wrong, Captain." Taking out a large sack from under the table you poured the contents onto the table. Revealing everything that was inside from jewels, food, clothes, money and even the compass that Changbin kept on him at all times. 

"Impressive work." He complimented a small smile playing on his lips as he took the compass from the pile and turned it around in his fingers. 

"How did you manage to swipe this?" He questioned, truly curious to know when it never left his inside pocket. 

"You asked me to clean your windows. While I was cleaning them this afternoon I asked you to move from your desk and bumped into you." Thinking back on it Changbin smirked as he thought about the way your hand ever so slight brushed against his chest. 

"Even if you don't want to swipe on Quinnar she could perform for other sailors...Distract them." Minho chuckled as he remembered catching you singing one day while you were cleaning.

"She can sing, dance and maybe she can read to them." He finished as he stuffed food into his mouth. You had been helping the boys learn to read and write while you were spending your time on the ship at night. 

"You read?" Changbin questioned as you sat back down at the table, nodding your head. 

"My mother taught me as a little girl. I can also write and read a map." The more he learnt about you the more interested he began to grow. 

There would have been a time when Changbin never would have allowed you onto his ship but hearing that you had no one back home made him want to take a chance on you. No one deserved to be alone in the world and that was something he lived by. Taking in sailors that had no wives, family or means of living. It was how he had met most of the boys besides Jeongin who simply joined because he wanted to.

"You're just full of surprises," He hummed pouring you a glass of ale before going back to his food. 

Although he had been hard on you through most of your time with him you couldn't hold it against him. He'd taken you in and cared for you even though he could have just as easily thrown you overboard and fed you to the sharks.

"We should get an early night. We'll be sailing all day tomorrow with little rest at night." Changbin digressed as he rose from his chair, your eyes on him the entire time as he retreated to his cabin for the rest of the night.

Quinnar was bright and loud as soon as you reached the docks, people were partying everywhere you turned to look. 

"I'll take her to go and get some clothes, then we'll start on the west side of town," Felix explained to the boys as you waited for him. Practically bouncing up and down with excitement as you looked around, it was your first time being anywhere this far from home and it was starting to set in that you had sailed there. 

"Follow me." Felix chuckled as he began to walk with you off the ship and down the wooden docks. Your eyes immediately went to the water it was crystal clear with white sand at the edges. 

"Can we go to the water after?" You questioned as you began to walk through crowded streets. People were dressed in top hats, suits and some women were out in the street topless. 

"They get excited about the festivals," Felix whispered as he noticed your gaze lingering on some of the groups that were getting louder and louder. 

"You should see them when they've been drinking," He laughed softly pulling you towards a small clothing stand and looking over everything before settling on something. 

"We'll take the black Bustier dress." He paid for the dress in full and an elderly woman took you by the hand. Eyeing you up when she noticed you in men's breeches and a shirt. 

"Ran away to play pirates did you?" She questioned as she led you into a small bathroom, you smiled weakly as she began measuring you.

Coming out from the changing room you smiled as you reached Felix, doing a small turn to show off the black Bustier and lace dress that you'd put a white shirt underneath.

"Looks great, now you really are a pirate." He whispered in your ear pushing you back through the crowds to begin your work. Everyone was already standing on top of one another, they would rarely notice something going missing from their pockets.

Later in the night as Changbin was heading back to the ship he saw you just sitting in the sand on the beach. Your feet were sitting by the edge of the water and you looked peaceful, a small smile on your lips.

"Do I pay you to sit around all day?" He snapped when he reached you, brushing off your hands you looked up at him. 

"It's almost midnight, the boys are all drinking I thought we had time off-"

"You thought wrong." You nodded before getting yourself up from the sand, dusting off your dress to follow him back to the ship but Changbin was taken by the bag of loot by your side. 

"Busy day?" You nodded handing him the bag as you began to walk back to the docks.

"Felix and I hit the west and then we got bored so we joined Jisung and Seungmin in the south." You smirked remembering everything you had done that day and now you were truly exhausted from everything. 

"There's one more thing I want you to do for me tonight," Changbin told you as he walked by your side. The two of you out alone as you headed towards the ship. As much as Changbin wanted to tell you how good a job you were doing for him he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Sure."

"Go and get the boys, we need to sail now before anyone realises we're the ones that stole their goods." Nodding at him you headed off back in the direction of the town. 

All of the boys had gone to the black pearl for a drink so it was going to be easy to find them but not so easy getting them back to the boat.

"Captain wants you back, he wants to sail home." You mumbled as Minho threw an arm around your shoulder, dropping almost his whole body weight onto you as you attempted to drag him out of the bar. 

"But we want to drink! CELEBRATE!" He screamed out as Jisung joined your side, helping you carry him a little while the rest of the boys - who were moderately sober - began to leave. 

"We can celebrate on board," You told Minho who began singing loudly in the street, 

"Soon may the Wellerman come To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go!" When he realised no one was joining in with him he began to get louder and louder, jabbing your side telling you to sing along. You had sung on the boat for him a couple of times but never in front of anyone else. 

"She'd not been two weeks from shire when down on her a right a whale bore. The captain called all hands and swore he'd take that whale in tow!" He screamed as you sat on the main deck, Changbin had begun sailing out of the docks the moment you arrived back with everyone. The rest of the boys had gone to sleep in their beds while you looked after Minho, 

"SING!" He screamed at you making you laugh softly as he threw up down the side of the boat. Rubbing his back softly you began to sing sweetly to him, not wanting to be as aggressive as his singing had been.

"Soon may the Wellerman come To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go..." You rubbed his back and he got back up, patting your back roughly as he left you there to got bed.

"SHIT!" You screamed out as he hit you a little too hard, sending you into the freezing water. Head flooding with thoughts as you forgot how to swim, waves sending you down to the water as soon as you got some form of air.

The water sent your body into shock as you tried to come up for air, flailing your arms around as though you were trying to climb rocks. Waves were crashing into your body knocking your back down whenever you got close to getting a piece of the precious air. 

"For fucks sake," Changbin cried out when he realised no one else was going to come after you. 

Dropping the anchors he began storming over to the side you'd gone overboard on, stripping from his shirt. Staring over to see if he could see any sign of you but it was pitch black. Climbing onto the railing he dove in after you swimming under the water when he saw you limply trying to reach for the water. 

"Don't you dare die on me!" Changbin roared as he laid you down on the main deck, pushing down on your chest repeatedly before breathing air into your mouth. 

"You're not allowed to leave," He hissed as he continued pushing against your chest. Your eyes were half open as you looked around you, 

"Leave me alone...You hate me," You coughed up the saltwater spitting it down beside him on the floor. 

"Do you think I want you dead?" He scoffed as he sat you up carefully, handing you a cup of freshwater. 

"Would be an easy way to get rid of a woman on your ship,"

"And lose one of the best pirates I've come to meet?" He blushed looked down at you as you continued to sip on the freshwater, shivering as you sat on the deck soaked in water on a cold night. 

"Let's go and get you warmed up." He mumbled helping you up onto your feet, wrapping his shirt around you as he walked you towards his cabin. 

"You can sit in front of the fire." Sitting you down in a chair he added some more wood to the small fireplace in his cabin and went to grab you some dry clothes to change into. Settling on some of his baggy breeches and a large white shirt.

"Why are you being nice? It's freaking me out." You mumbled as he gave you a blanket to change underneath, still turning his back on you so you would feel comfortable. 

"I've always been nice, I let you stay didn't I?" He countered as he looked at the windows in front of him, smirking a little as you spoke back to him with a little attitude. 

"Begrudgingly I bet," You grumbled folding your arms over your chest as you finished changing into the clothes he had given to you.

"I was the one that opted to stop them throwing you overboard," He raised his eyebrow at you truly not understanding why you thought he hated you or wanted you dead.

"I gave you a job, I gave you shelter. If I really wanted to I could have put you out," You cleared your throat when it was clear for him to turn back and he wrapped you in a blanket to keep you from getting colder.

"I could have let you drown," He scoffed as he looked at you knowing that he would never actually let you drown.

"But you didn't...what was it you said...Best pirate?" You smirked up at him remembering what he had said out on the deck.

"Shut up, you were hallucinating," You hummed as you stared at the fireplace, enjoying the warmth as it spread through your entire body enjoying it as you sat there.

"Thank you though...For taking me in...letting me work for you." Your eyes were beginning to get heavy as you sat there,

"Like I said. The best pirate just don't tell the boys," He chuckled looking at you as he saw you beginning to nod off in the chair. It was rather adorable how you got so tired just from sitting in front of a fireplace.

"You should get some rest, sea air and water can take it out of you sometimes." You hummed as you got up, ready to leave his chambers when his hand came to rest on your shoulder. Pulling you to come back into the room, there was no way he was going to make you stay below deck when he knew it was colder down there than anywhere else on the ship. Any other night would have been fine but not when you'd just taken a swan dive into the ocean and almost drowned.

"Take my bed, it's comfier than the sheets you're on." You remembered seeing the bed when you were cleaning once. It was a large double bed covered in pillows and blankets that looked to be hand-sewn, fit enough for some kind of king to lay on.

Shivering and teeth chattering as you laid in bed you couldn't warm up despite the mound of blankets covering you. All of the warmth from the fire gone now that you were curled up on a bed,

"Relax. You need to relax your body," It was easy for Changbin to say as he laid on the floor in front of the fire taking most of the heat from you,

"Come up here," You stuttered out through gritted teeth, not caring if you were going to share a bed with someone. All you cared about was getting warm.

"Why?"

"Warm me up," You hissed looking at him with a serious look to prove you meant it and he got up, bringing one of the extra blankets with him and crawling in behind you. 

"Sweet mother of pearl, you are freezing," He hissed when he felt your feet grace over his leg, he threw the blanket he had been using over your both.

"Hold...Hold me." You looked over your shoulder at him and he nodded, inching closer to you as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Tell me why you took pity on me...Why keep me? You didn't know I was a good pirate then," You stuttered out body still shivering uncontrollably as he continued to hold you in his arms. 

"I saw you stealing the night before so I knew you were hungry and most likely tired...Then when you told me that you had no one-"

"You felt sorry for me?" You cut him off as you listened to him speaking to you,

"No. I knew what you were going through. I ran away from my family home as a teenager and I knew what kind of place you were in. No job. No home. You needed somewhere." Your body began to relax as you listened to him speaking to you so calmly and openly about himself. It was the first time you'd heard him speak of any kind of life before he was a pirate, none of the boys spoke about him before you only knew their stories.

"You ran away?" Concern leaked from your tone and he smiled weakly, it was the first time he told anyone this story. Even the boys thought he had been born into the pirate world.

"From Atlantia when I was 18." He chuckled weakly at the distant memory of his time there, everything was a first for him to speak about.

"I was a naughty kid, got into trouble too much, stole from people and was just a troubled kid. My family decided it was time to send me to work in a factory...I knew for a fact I didn't want to do I ran." Frowning as you listened to him you couldn't help but think about how much you had in common with one another, both running away from a life neither of you wanted. 

"I took nothing, I just headed for the sailors and asked for a ride to the next Kingdom. Then from there, I worked on different ships until I found Fae Rouge. Abandoned and left to rot in some random harbour. I stole her." Rolling over to look up at him you stared at him in the candlelight, just listening to him speak was enough to relax you in his arms.

"I was hard on you when you first got here because I needed to know if you had a thick skin. Pirates need a thick skin if they're going to make it." He looked down at you not realising how close you were to one another until he could feel your breath on his lips. 

"How did you get the scar?" You whispered running your hand up to his face, cupping it in your hand as you ran one finger along the scar on his eyebrow. 

"When I was a kid, it's not a good idea to go up to a horse from behind." He smirked as he remembered getting thrown back against the wall but he knew the rumours about the scar and why you must have asked. You went to brush your hands through his hair when he took your wrist into his hand.

"Sorry." You whispered going to move away when his grip around your waist tightened and he held you in place. 

"I never said I didn't like it," He whispered as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours until you pushed them together. Gasping a little as you felt a jolt rush through your body, something you had only heard in stories from old people. 

Soon the kiss became heated and he moved his lips to your neck, kissing up and down your exposed skin as your hands worked their way into his hair tugging softly. 

The shock still hadn't worn off as Changbin stripped you down bare, himself included as he looked at you. Admiring your body as he ran his hand over your breasts playing with your hardened nipples, 

"Changbin," You breathed as he continued to massage them, leaning down to take your left nipple into his mouth. Sucking softly while his hand pinches the right nipple,

"You like that?" He questioned a little cockily as he looked up at you, you hummed back at him. You'd never experienced anything like this it was all new to you.

Changbin continued as he kissed down your body looking up at you as you whimpered. You could feel how wet you were beginning to grow between your thighs just from the small kisses and touches he was giving to you. 

When his head delved between your legs and tongue graced your clit making you whimper. 

"Sweet little noises, has no one made you feel good before?" You shook your head and he pressed a kiss against your swollen bud, licking and sucking softly as he watched you. Enjoying the way your face scrunched up and moans left your mouth. Changbin went slow with you, running his tongue up and down your folds occasionally dipping inside of you to see what you enjoyed. Each of your moans grew louder each time which only encouraged him as he slicked up a finger in your juices. 

"You might feel a pinch," He whispered slowly easing his finger into you feeling you clench around him tightly. 

"O-Oh fuck you're tight," He moaned despite it being his finger inside of you, there was no way he would last with you that tight. 

"C-Changbin." You whined when you felt a small pain, 

"I know..." He pressed kissing on your clit, 

"I know but it'll pass." He whispered as he continued to lap up your clit. 

The pain began to subside as he began to move one finger in and out of you. Your head spinning a little at the new sensations you were experiencing, each thrust of his fingers making you whimper and moan.

"Changbin....S-Something-" Changbin smirked as he could feel you clenching faster around his finger with each thrust,

"It;'s okay, just let it go," He breathed out as he continued to thrust his fingers, watching as your head rolls back against the sheets and you let out a sinful cry of his name. Something had tightened inside of you and finally snapped free as waves of pleasure rushes through your body making you see white.

"What...What was that?" You whimpered as he kissed back up to your lips, looking at you with loving eyes. 

"An orgasm," He chuckled watching you as you bit down on your lip, 

"I-I want more." He nodded kissing your lips softly going to kiss down your body when you pulled him back up. Running your hand down to his crotch, 

"I-I want you." You pleaded with him, looking down into his eyes. He nodded as he looked at you, kissing you sweetly as he towered above you. 

Your legs were spread as the tip of Changbin's cock brushed through your folds, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you but he knew it was going to sting even for a little while. 

"Please," You begged him as he lined the tip up with your entrance, sliding into you with a loud groan. His hand digging into your hips to still himself from moving too fast too soon but it felt good. You were so tight around him it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. 

"S-Shit," You hissed at the sudden sensation of fullness, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. 

"Are you okay?!" He asked, his voice filled with panic as he looked down at you. Nodding at him you run your fingers down his chest, 

"You can move," You told him as you reached to grab his shoulder, wrapping your legs around his waist not wanting to lose the sensation of him inside of you. All that clouded your thoughts was how badly you wanted him moving in and out of you just as his finger had been. 

Changbin sank all the way into you and your eyes widened moaning out his name loudly as you clenched around him with each thrust. 

"F-Fuck you have no idea how good that feels Y/n." He purred in your ear as he continued to pushing and out of you at a steady pace, the head of his cock hitting that one sensitive spot that made your head spin.

"C-Changbin, don't stop." Your head rolled back as he moved a little faster inside of you, reaching one hand down between you both to rub your clit. 

"So good!" You cried out as your back arched away from the mattress the tightening sensation beginning to build up once again.

"T-That feeling is back," You warned him as your eyes shot open to stare up at him, he nodded rubbing your clit faster. 

"That's okay, you can let go...L-Lord knows I will." He grunted as he timed his thrusts in time with his hand on your clit.  

The warm sensation from before turned into molten lava as you felt yourself cumming around him, dragging your nails into his skin as you cried out his name. Changbin's fingers dug into your hips as he grunted, letting go inside of you as you whimpered feeling something seep out of you. 

Holding onto you for the rest of the night Changbin promised to wash you off in the tub in the morning, if he did it now you would only get cold again. All you wanted to do was sleep beside him with him holding onto you but the door burst open revealing Minho who had finally come to realise what he had done. 

"Minho! Knock!" Changbin roared out as he covered you with the sheets so that Minho couldn't see your naked body. 

"I thought-"

"You knocked her overboard? You did. I got her...Go back to bed." Minho nodded backing out of the room without another word about it with bright red cheeks. 

"This will be fun to explain in the morning," Changbin chuckled as he laid back down beside you, looking at you as you took his face into your hand. 

"Even more fun in the future...Taking the seas together." You whispered as you leaned up to kiss him once again, wincing as you felt a pain rush through your body at the sudden movement. 

"Get some sleep," He whispered as he wrapped an arm around you, letting you get comfortable before he attempted to.

King and Queen of the seas were what you were named in every town, drawings of the two of you strewn across every posted you came into contact with for the rest of your lives. It only made the adventures you had with him and the boys all the more fun.

Tagline: @minholuvs @taestannie @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​

[lucauali]

Every Summertime | Eren Jaeger x Reader SMAU

Summary: You anticipated your parents deciding to move houses once you came back home from college. However, you didn’t anticipate having a hot next door neighbor.

Chapter 2: Moonlight

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Even though you already met Eren, you still wanted to make a good first impression with the rest of his family. You decided to dress up a tad bit, nothing too fancy. Just a short, green linen dress to keep the remaining evening heat waves at bay. Your mom mentioned that it was an outdoor dinner in their backyard. Thankfully, the sunset would take away some of the sweaty discomfort.

Heading downstairs to find your parents, you found a note on the table:

went over to the Jaeger's to help set up, come over when you're ready - dad

You quickly grabbed your phone and left through the front door, locking it behind you. As you walked over to the house next door, you could smell the grilled burger patties and other barbecue items. While trying to figure out if it would be impolite or not to just go around back, a familiar voice called out to you.

"Y/N! Come through here real quick!" You saw Eren waving you over to the front porch.

Walking up to the brunette, you shot him a smile, "I was trying to figure out which way to go, so thanks for saving me."

Eren gave you another one of his boyish smiles, "yeah, no problem. My mom didn't want you getting lost. Anyways, I hope you're okay with burgers."

The two of you made a beeline though his house to the backyard. Once there, you see the patio setup with various foods, all waiting to be served. Before either of you can even say anything, you hear a woman's voice call out.

"Oh, you must be Y/N! I'm this troublemaker's mom, Carla!" the woman came up to you in greeting. Her welcoming aura warmed your heart.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Jaeger. Thank you for inviting us over, it really means a lot." She was about to wave you off and dismiss the use of her formal title, but Eren cut her off with a whine.

"Mom, I'm not that bad. I didn't even do anything." Eren huffed as you and his mom shared a look, giggling together. He was about to start pouting again, but his father interrupted him.

"You three, come over here! We should get seated so that we can dig in soon."

Once seated, you were about to start cutting into the burger, but your mom stopped you, "don't start yet, their other son is on his way." You weren't informed of this "other son," but he was ruining your food itinerary.

As if on cue, the back door of the house creaked open, revealing a tall, blonde man with a matching beard. His blue eyes widened a bit when he saw three strangers sitting in his backyard. You couldn't blame him, though.

Grisha stood up to introduce him to you and your parents, "This is Zeke, my eldest son. Zeke, these are the new neighbors I told you about." Zeke introduced himself and went back inside to change out of work clothes.

Eren, who was still pouting over his mom's teasing, started to munch on his food. He noticed your hesitance, and jerked his chin towards your food.

"Dig in, Zeke's made his appearance. No need to wait anymore."

- <3 -

After everyone, including Zeke, finished eating, the parents went inside to socialize.

You stayed in the yard with Eren and Zeke, deciding that the now cool breeze and moon winking down at you were more appealing than the AC and TV inside.

"So, Y/N, you moved here today with your parents?" Zeke asked, walking towards where you were seated with three glasses of lemonade.

Eren snorted from his chair across from you, "obviously, Dad told you that." In response, Zeke glared at him.

"I'm trying to start a conversation moron. I didn't get to introduce myself as soon as she got here. Unlike you, I have a job." With that, the brothers started to playfully go back and forth with their banter, making it seem like they forgot about your presence.

"Yeah, I did, to answer your question. My parents wanted to move houses since I'm usually away for college." The sound of your voice garnered their attention, once again.

Zeke pondered for a bit, then asked, "why here, though? Your mom told me you guys are from Marley. Not too far, but definitely not a daily commute."

You looked back up at the moon, as it twinkled higher in the sky than the last time you checked.

"I don't know, actually. I didn't have enough time to ask when they told me, since they decided to keep it under the rug for awhile."

While you were looking up, the boys shared a look, deciding to change the subject when they noticed how you looked at the moon.

It was Eren this time, "so where do you go to college?" You perked up when he mentioned college.

"Oh, I go to Paradis University!" It was Eren and Zeke's turn to lighten up.

"No way! I go there too! And Zeke attends their law school." Zeke nods along, mentioning that he's graduating soon.

As the conversation flows, you learn that Eren's debating on changing his major after you told him your own. It was surprisingly easy to talk to the brothers, even though they're ways of conversing seem to differ. Eren's more outgoing and bold with his words, while Zeke tends to observe, then put in his two cents.

"Wow, I didn't even notice how late it was. I'm sure the parents haven't either." You glanced down at your phone, and it was nearing midnight.

You frown slightly, stretching your body as you get up from the wicker chair, "I should get going then, we still have a lot to unpack." The boys got up from their chairs, ready to lead you back into the house to regroup. Before you can go inside, Eren stops you.

"Hey, tell you what, give us your number and we'll introduce you to our friends here! Most of them go to Paradis, too, so you might know of them already. Maybe not Zeke's group though, they're archaic."

Zeke clicks his tongue in annoyance, about to start another round of teasing. You laugh and oblige, putting your contact into both of their phones.

"That should do it, I look forward to seeing you guys again, good night!" The Jaeger's wave as your family heads back home.

As soon as you get back to your room, you hear your phone chime.

Author's Note: I hope the texts are making this feel like a SMAU now! Btw, if anyone knows how to make fake iMessage group chats, pls lmk!! This is the kind of dress I was envisioning btw!

[inlemoons]

the last great american dynasty

a/n: ch. 3 of lore, aka inuyasha oneshots inspired by the track titles and vibes of folklore. i’m not going to americanize anyone, but the vibe of ‘women ruining things’ is fun so let’s go ch. 1 the 1 ch.2 cardigan ch.3 the last great american dynasty pairing: inuparents/inukimi-touga-izayoi universe: inuyasha read on Ao3

The clouds tonight are soft and pearly, and Inukimi flies within them, the chilly mist distracting her from thoughts of him, and the girl. She knew Touga would inevitably take concubines—it was his right—but no one expected a human. Or maybe they just hate the changing times, how wars rage on and dynasties fall and lovely princesses fling themselves at great daiyoukai’s feet. And Inukimi knows that mortality has its limits, that in fifty years she will remain a great beauty and that girl’s face would cave like fruit rotting beneath the plum tree.

This truth brings little comfort.

Inukimi drops beneath the cloudline and the midnight ocean stretches beneath her gaze, glassy and clear as crystal, the scent of salt drifting up into her nose. Four hundred years back, after a battle so fierce she could smell the blood from her throne, Touga met her at the entrance to her sky-palace, his fine silks stained green from grass and grime. He’d raked his claws through her hair and pressed his mouth to hers like it was the last thing he’d ever taste. She’d giggled and commanded him to strip before granting entry, palace guards and servants turning in embarrassment as the sounds of armor dropping rang throughout the clouds.

He has a habit of loving things he shouldn’t, and trusting too much in the things he should. Inukimi doesn’t like the earth that much, too much bitter stench, but even she can admit that the shoreline is beautiful when washed in moonlight. And it’s here beneath the stars she picks up the scent of someone trailing her like a veil. She’d love nothing more than to ignore it. So she only flies, skimming the fragrant treeline, never looking back at the presence on her tails.

The princess’ estate is grand by human standards. Inukimi curses the feel of soil beneath her feet as her pursuer lands a yard away.

“It’s unlike you to be jealous.” The Inu no Taisho, bright beneath the moon, finally speaks. He steps in front of Inukimi, not angry, he’d never hurt her, but she’d have to swallow the sourness building in her throat if she wanted to continue.

“I’d only like to see.”

“Mere curiosity, then?”

Touga is amused. Inukimi is annoyed. She brushes past her husband. He follows in silence until they reach the estate’s interior. There beneath a sand-pear tree sits the prettiest pink teardrop of a human, black eyes screwed up in confusion at the two approaching silver daiyoukai, lover and lavender stranger, realization lighting her features only when Inukimi speaks.

“So it’s you, is it?”

[mandoalorian]

Din djarin is a insecure man so what do you think about din being insecure and following reader when she is in the streets and she already knows it and try to play with his jealous and Fluff at the end. I love you and thanks 🥰

Are You An Angel? [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

Rating: 13+

Word count: 1.7k

Masterlist

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluff @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

Din Djarin taglist: @alecdamndario0

When Din was younger, he'd lay in the lap of his mother and at night, and she'd sing sweet songs to lull him to sleep. His father always made an effort to spend time with Din during the later hours of the evening, sitting on the edge of Din's small bed and holding his son's hand. He couldn't sing like his wife could, and Din didn't really have the privilege of owning any books— but there was one bedtime story that only Din's father could tell, and Din had in fact become particularly fond of it.

"When I met your mother, I believed she was an angel from the moon of Iego. The angels were reputed for their beauty, and she was certainly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen." Din's father would tell, smiling as he reminisced.

Din became enamoured with the story and the concept of angels. But after the death of his parents the idea of love and beauty and peace became so foreign. When he was sworn to the Creed, his priority became to fight and defend, but the story his father told all those years ago still lived deep within Din's heart. It was something he always held onto.

Finding a long term lover was just never in the cards for Din, no matter how much he dreamed of it. It just wasn't plausible, considering his creed and career, and that gave him some kind of insecurity. He'd never had a serious relationship. He understood and came to accept that no one would really want a man who was part of a culture that forbade the removal of his helmet, or even a bounty hunter who was always constantly travelling and couldn't settle down.

But things had been changing. Din had a child now, and he hadn't claimed a bounty from the Guild in months. Din had never stayed in one place for too long— he couldn't without running the risk of getting into trouble with thugs or crime syndicates. But when he returned to Nevarro one sunny afternoon, he walked through the market and saw you.

You were hidden by a cloak, intriguing the attention from Din almost immediately. You picked up an apple and handed it to one of the children with a generous smile. The child snatched it from you promptly and ran off. You were unlike anyone or anything Din had seen before… you beamed and glowed and your beauty was incomparable. When he first saw you, he was reminded of his father's story about the angels on Iego.

Once upon a time, Din would've said that 'love at first sight' was nonsense. Ridiculous. But he hadn't met you. He learned that you attended the farmers market on Nevarro everyday at approximately the same time— and every day, without fail, you'd purchase an item of fruit; be it sourberries or sweetplums, and you'd give it to a child in need. Din would watch you from the hull of the Razor Crest, staring intently, baffled by your continued selfless acts of kindness and generosity.

He wanted to approach you. He wanted to say hello, maybe ask you for a drink— although that would be absurd considering he couldn't remove the beskar that contained his face. He just wished he'd have enough confidence to say something; anything to you. But whenever he got close to saying something, his mouth would get dry and his throat would close up.

He couldn't believe it, he'd never experienced anything like this before. Din was always able to talk himself out of tricky situations but this… was something else. It was your aura that stunned him. It was everything his father had described to him when he was younger, but now Din could finally understand what exactly he meant.

He was going to say something. Just a simple 'hello'. He had to. He spent some time in the fresher before, he planned out how exactly he was going to approach you. He'd talk it through with Grogu. "Listen kid," he told the green bean. "She seems to like to give kids fruit from the market stall so… maybe ask for some sourberries or something, yeah? And then I'll come up to you and uh…" Din trailed off, trying to make his elaborate plan clear to his son who almost definitely had no idea what Din was talking about.

Din was sure you hadn't seen him, but he was wrong. Only once in a blue moon would the Nevarro locals see a Mandalorian dressed head to toe in silver Beskar. Din was pretty memorable. You noticed him the first day he saw you. You were aware you were being watched, and quite frankly, you didn't care.

If it was any other man… any other dirty scoundrel watching you from his ship quarters, you'd feel violated and disgusted. But Din Djarin wasn't just any man. Having a Mandalorian warrior watch over you, knowing that he had an armoury full of weapons and the impeccable skillset of a true fighter made you feel protected. You hadn't spoken a word to him— what were you to say to a Mandalorian? But you wanted to. His presence initiated a primal urge within you. You needed him.

When the time came, he couldn't do it. He froze up, seeing a man caress your arm and lean into you. The man was strange. Din had been watching you for weeks now and he had never seen this man at all. Could it be a friend from another planet? A boyfriend? No… not a boyfriend. The pit of Din's stomach filled with envy. Had he waited too long to make his move? He cursed himself under his breath for letting himself get so attached to a woman he had never even met before.

Din watched closer, his eyes narrowing when he saw the strange man press his chest into yours, pushing you into the fruit & veg stall you stood beside everyday. You looked uncomfortable but your good heart stopped you from pushing him away. Din's fingers graced the blaster in his holster as he watched the man press a finger into your chest, drunkenly slurring his speech. Your fingers curled around the market stall table, defensively creating fists that were so tight your knuckles turned white.

Noticing the man had a dagger in his pocket, Din decided he had to act fast. It wasn't the way he intended meeting you, but no one else was watching over you. He couldn't bear to see you get hurt.

Din whipped out his vibroblade and held it to the man's neck, your eyes widening in horror as he approached the stranger from behind. "Step away from the lady," Din hissed, his voice laced with venom and the knife only inches away from the man's throat. "Make one wrong move and you're dead, you understand?" Din asked.

The man removed his hands from you, placing them above his head and surrendering. He slowly took a few steps away before quickly running off without saying a word. With a flick of a switch, Din shut down his vibroblade and slid it back into his holster.

"Th-thank you," you bit your lip nervously, looking up at the Mandalorian. "You're my hero."

"It's uh, it's nothing," Din replied, feeling the awkwardness consume him. "Are you new around here?"

"Fairly," you answered quickly with a nod.

"Because there's a lot of men like him, here on Nevarro. Bad men. So uh, you should really be careful." Din explained and you didn't reply, instead shyly looking down at the ground. Din felt like he had royally messed up. Grogu padded over towards the both of you, blinking his big black eyes innocently. You couldn't help but grin when you saw him.

"Is this your child?" you quizzed, eventually breaking the silence.

"Something like that." Din muttered as his gaze flicked between you and Grogu.

"Oh, I've never seen a child like him before. He's wonderful." you beamed merrily, pulling out a bunch of sourberries and handing them to Grogu.

"He's certainly special," Din grumbled through a genuine smile. "So, what brings you to Nevarro?"

"It's… complicated," you huffed out a sigh. "Actually, I may not be able to stay here much longer."

"On the run?" Din asked with a chuckle, but it was only a half joke. His heart shattered when he saw you nod sadly.

"Yeah. Like I said, complicated." You shrugged, folding your arms over your chest.

"I know how it feels," Din revealed and you looked up at him with curiousity. "My uh… my ship. It has room for you, if you wanted to come with me." He suggested, pointing aimlessly to the Razor Crest which was stationed a few yards back. Grogu gargled quizzically.

"Where are you going?" you asked the Mandalorian.

"I- anywhere? Nowhere? Everywhere? There's really no place off limits." Din responded.

"You'd really let me accompany you?" you asked again. For some reason, you weren't completely opposed to the idea. In fact, you trusted this man who you didn't even know the name of.

"Yeah," Din shrugged casually. "But I do have one question," you nodded, urging him to continue. "Are you an angel?" he asked, immediately hating the way the words left his lips.

"A what?" you scrunched up your nose in bewilderment, unsure if you had heard him right.

"An angel," he repeated. "From the moons of Iego."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his sentiment. "I could be asking you the same thing," you giggled, pursing your lips together into a thin line. "You've been watching me for weeks. Like my guardian angel." Din felt embarrassed that you had noticed him, but his feeling immediately softened when you placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "I would like to come with you." you said quietly, subconsciously fluttering your eyelashes.

"Where would you like to go?" Din questioned, his voice low through the modulator.

"Take me to the moons of Iego," you smiled, before interlocking your fingers with his and letting him direct you back to the ship. "I want to see these angels."

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Can you talk about autistic Hawk/Eil

Sure, I’d love to!!!

Credit where credit is due, of course--I got a lot of my Autistic Eli headcanons from @jackonthelongwalk, who’s got a little more authority to speak on the subject since he’s actually autistic and whatnot. I mainly just saw his takes and was like “THOSE ARE GOOD TAKES” and adopted all of them XD Although I DID come up with a few of my own headcanons!!! I’ll just compile everything here.

~Eli tends to be pretty particular about physical touch, and a lot of the time he doesn’t really like it. Over the years, Demetri’s found that one type of touch that Eli’s okay with is shoulder-squeezing, and it kinda becomes their thing. Typically Demetri giving Eli a quick shoulder squeeze helps comfort him and makes him feel safe by basically reassuring him “I’m here for you, I’ve got your back.” You can see Demetri give Eli a shoulder squeeze in 2x09 when he’s comforting him about Moon, and he does the EXACT same one in the school fight in 2x10 just before kicking him into the trophy case. I think it was his way of saying “even though we’re fighting right now, I still care about you” and that kinda helped snap Hawk out of his near-psychopathic rage. In Season 3, he’s still shitty to Demetri, obviously, but it’s more controlled, not as unhinged or feral--even when Hawk breaks his arm, he hesitates a LOT before and regrets it IMMEDIATELY after in a way I’m not sure his UNCHECKED RAEEEGE self would have during the school fight.

~Over the years Demetri develops kind of a sixth sense of when Eli is about to have a meltdown. He’s able to pick up on super minute changes in body language, changes in the way Eli speaks, small alterations in Eli’s general temperament--basically anything that indicates he’s getting overwhelmed. That’s actually how he discovers the shoulder squeeze tactic--Demetri realizes he needs a quick way to comfort and reassure Eli when he can’t go in for a full hug (like they’re in the middle of class or something) so he can calm Eli down a bit and stop him from having a meltdown. Mainly because Demetri knows the bullies will have a field day if Eli cries in front of the other kids, so the shoulder squeeze develops as sort of a way to protect Eli from this.

~At some point after Demetri first started using the shoulder touch/squeeze on Eli, Eli started also using it on Demetri to quickly communicate affection/appreciation. Demetri isn’t nearly as touch-averse or picky with physical touch as Eli, and would’ve been okay with a number of physical touches, but he’s honestly super touched that Eli saw him doing a thing and was like “Oh hey!!! Demetri does this thing to me and it makes me feel safe and loved, so I’m sure it’ll do the same if I do it to him!!!” It kinda becomes their special touch, and becomes somewhat of a silent “I love you” (although obviously these two clueless idiots are led to believe it’s ONLY platonic love for many, many years XD). You can see Eli give a little shoulder pat/squeeze to Demetri at the beach party in 1x09!!

~Eli really does not like being touched around or under the chin, mainly because this is how bullies like Kyler touch him and it’s triggering for him. Demetri basically never touches him here. Even after they get together and start getting intimate, Demetri tends to touch/stroke Eli’s cheeks or the side of his head if he wants to touch his face, but he avoids touching Eli’s chin like the plague because he knows how much Eli dislikes it. This is something Eli really deeply appreciates--even Moon wasn’t able to catch on to the fact that he didn’t like having his chin touched, and he was too obsessed with coming across as “tough” to her to admit that it bothered him. Moon didn’t mean any harm at all, of course, she just wasn’t able to pick up on his more subtle indications that he wasn’t a huge fan of chin touches. Demetri has come to pick these indications up by second nature.

~The whole thing Demetri does at the beginning of the show where he kinda talks “for” Eli (the thing that, ironically, people loooooove to blast him about for being a “terrible friend”) I think is largely done because Eli is autistic. Eli seems to have a lot of social anxiety right from the get-go--he doesn’t even verbally greet Miguel when he first sits with him and Demetri and Demetri introduces Eli. Eli just kinda awkwardly smiles and nods at him. He’s obviously not great with social cues either, which we see later on--he’s so PAINFULLY oblivious to the fact that Piper is super not at all into it when he tries to hit on her in Season 2. I imagine after a number of social blunders in their youth, and seeing just how uncomfortable and anxious social situations made Eli, Demetri took the reigns and did a lot of communicating FOR Eli to take some of the pressure off of him to talk. I’d argue that once Demetri is taken out of the picture, we can see in full force JUST how socially anxious and uncomfortable Eli really is--he seems damn near terrified trying to stand up for himself against Johnny when Demetri’s not there. He’s lowkey stuttering and tripping over his words, his voice is shaking. He nearly leaves the room in tears. He’s used to letting Demetri be his voice, and this seems to be what makes him feel safest and most secure. When this is taken away, he has to find a new way to protect himself--hence, possibly, the entire Hawk persona.

~Eli has a lot of issues with emotional regulation and often feels emotions really, really strongly and gets overwhelmed by them--as an ADHDer, this is a struggle I understand SO MUCH. When Eli gets really overwhelmed with strong emotion, he tends to have meltdowns. These can be either sadness-based meltdowns (like we see in the flashback) or angry meltdowns (like we see when he beats Brucks up). Due to his emotional regulation issues, Eli has a really hard time hiding his emotions or stopping a meltdown once it kinda onsets--this is why he tends to “bawl” at movies. Once he starts crying, he can’t really stop, or reign it in--it just keeps coming. He also can’t really hold it back--his emotions tend to force their way out, whether he wants them to or not. This is also why he goes so HARD when he’s angry--wailing on Brucks, throwing punch after punch at Demetri at the school fight, getting carried away and attacking Robby’s injured shoulder at the tournament. His anger (and other emotions) tends to just kinda explode out, and he has a really hard time reigning them back in and keeping them in check. Demetri, ever the voice of ration and reason, can help with this--and probably has a lot, historically. With Demetri less and less in the picture and their relationship on the rocks, Eli’s emotions just seem to get even more wild and uncontrolled, particularly his anger. Part of the reason I think Demetri and Eli work so well together--Eli tends to get very caught up in his emotions (no shame in that--I’ll admit I do too!), and needs someone to help him keep his feet on the ground and be the pragmatist who helps him keep things in perspective.

~Karate is most definitely a special interest for him. It lowkey takes over his life and he makes it damn near his entire identity--big special interest energy. And Demetri (at first, at least) is lowkey so supportive!!! Like he goes to the all-valley tournament to support and cheer Eli on, despite not having any personal interest in fighting and seeming to think the whole thing is the kind of dumb macho shit that goes against everything his nerd identity stands for XD But he goes to the tournament anyways to clap for his boyfriend best friend’s badassery!!! The real MVP!!! Also special interests in general (not unlike ADHD hyperfixations) tend to be very random, hence why seemingly out of nowhere Eli gets absolutely OBSESSED with karate.

~Just a random little headcanon I have (I think I mentioned it on one of my general headcanon posts), but I like to think after Eli adopts the whole “Hawk” persona, he gets a special interest in birds of prey in general for a little while. Like back before he’s too “tough” for anything even remotely related to “nerd shit,” he watches nature documentaries on raptors and the whole 9 yards and constantly rambles excitedly to Demetri about how badass he thinks they are, and how cool it is that they can “literally hunt mice from the sky and shit” (probably an exact quote from him). Demetri finds this sudden new obsession both amusing and kind of endearing--but as always, he shows an interest in it and accommodates it as best he can. I imagine he’s seen Eli go through a number of special interests over the years, and is a pro by now on how to handle them (my own childhood best friend is a fellow ADHDer, and he was CONSTANTLY getting new hyperfixations--I imagine it was something like that XD).

~The whole “Hawk” persona in general seems pretty autistic, speaking of that--like it’s almost entirely based in mimicry and masking. Like Hawk pretty frequently mimics Johnny’s expressions, body language, and speech patterns, and (at least at first) Miguel’s fighting style. He also starts to mimic a lot of Kreese’s problematic views and general “never accept defeat” attitude in late Season 2 and Season 3, setting his good old Bastardization Arc in full swing. The whole Hawk thing could easily be masking, especially given how exaggerated and overdramatic Eli’s facial expressions, voice, and actions tend to be when he’s trying to be Hawk. When he slips back into “Eli” (or how he was before he adopted the mask), it’s usually around Demetri (i.e. the Doctor Who conversation)--which makes sense, since Demetri “gets” Eli better than most people and Eli doesn’t have to mask or overexaggerate his expressions or statements to communicate effectively with Demetri. They’ve known each other so long and Demetri is so familiar with his body language and mannerisms that Demetri is able to pick up fairly easily on what Eli’s trying to communicate/express without Eli having to work too hard at getting his point across. It’s why Eli’s expressions and body language aren’t nearly as exaggerated around Demetri, even when he’s trying to intimidate him--he knows he doesn’t have to overstate what he’s doing to communicate with Demetri.

~Relating back to the social troubles and social anxiety thing, I think Eli has always had trouble communicating verbally, hence why he’s so quiet at first. And even when he does get more talkative, a lot of it is mimicking other people’s speech patterns and ideas (namely Johnny’s at first)--it doesn’t really feel like him talking. Even alone with Demetri, he tends to prefer to let Demetri do the talking, hence Demetri saying Eli’s a “man of few words.” He often prefers to communicate nonverbally through body language, and when he DOES communicate verbally, he does it somewhat sparingly and chooses his words carefully, not usually bothering to say things he doesn’t mean (if he isn’t masking, anyways). THIS is why Demetri was so ready to accept such a short, concise “I’m sorry for all of it” from Eli instead of a long, drawn-out apology for each individual thing he did wrong. Eli knows he doesn’t have to bother masking to communicate with Demetri, so he’s not going to bother saying something that isn’t genuine. Eli has never been the greatest at articulating his thoughts verbally either, so TRYING to apologize for each individual thing he did to Demetri would be extremely hard for him, and Demetri knows this. This is why he accepts Eli’s apology without question and doesn’t expect him to elaborate on it. He knows Eli’s communicating a lot more than he’s actually saying aloud, if that makes any sense, and he cares more about the entirety of what Eli’s trying to say rather than just the spoken part. And Eli definitely communicates he’s genuinely remorseful through his actions as well--saving Demetri from the Cobras, teaming up with Demetri afterwards to help Deme’s side win the fight, straight up openly  BETRAYING Kreese and Cobra Kai AT GREAT PERSONAL RISK TO HIMSELF (especially if Tory’s threat is anything to go by!!!) in order to go back to Demetri. Honestly, given everything he knows about Eli and how he operates, expresses himself, and communicates, I highly doubt Demetri expects at all for Eli to go on a long, detailed rant about how sorry he is and is honestly just grateful to have Eli back in his life.

~I think at the beginning of the show, Demetri puts a lot of work into helping Eli feel as safe and secure as possible--possibly in part because Eli’s autism makes him feel kinda isolated as a “freak” or “outcast” or what have you. Demetri makes an effort to crack jokes and make Eli laugh when no one else will, possibly to help Eli feel more relaxed and at ease. And Demetri’s reluctance to try out karate could be a kind of misguided overprotectiveness on his part--he’s spent a lot of time building up their own little world for them where he can keep Eli relatively comfortable, and he’s worried anything that interferes with that or shakes up the status quo is going to stress out or overwhelm Eli too much. Demetri wants to keep things as they are, because even if it’s not perfect, and they still get bullied on the regular, at least he KNOWS how best to help Eli and help him feel better (or at least he thinks he does) in their current situation (i.e. “I think we’d rather spend our afternoons playing Crucible Control than getting hit in the face”). If they were put into a drastically different new situation, he WOULDN’T know how he should best assist and support Eli with it, and that scares him a lot--because he’s ALWAYS kind of intuitively known how to help Eli, and the thought of anything changing that makes him terrified that without him, Eli is going to get really hurt somehow.

I think that just about covers everything--might add more stuff if I think of it! Definitely go check out @jackonthelongwalk’s blog for more quality, in-depth autistic Eli content!!!

[crispyjenkins]

Secretly married obiwan x quinlan

(thank you all so much for your patience on this one! still figuring out my routine around my family and who i am as a person, but prompts are back to sunday and monday uploads!

i guess i just like the idea of quinlan and obi-wan gettin’ hitched really young? it certainly sounds like smth quinlan would do. HOWEVER can you just imagine them not getting into a relationship until the clone wars? (ノ*´◡`) maybe they’ve been dancing around it since they were padawans and finally decide to just say fuck it like anidala. 

that is not this story.)

  The greatest injustice of it all is that Quinlan and Master Tholme had just left the Temple when the council had sent him and Qui-Gon to Melida/Daan, just as Quinlan had not been there when Obi-Wan had been sent to the Agricorp. Quinlan had almost strangled him for that, when he’d shown back up from Bandomeer trailing behind his new master, and, honestly, Obi-Wan hadn’t blamed him.

  When the contingent of Jedi and their padawans arrive in the capital city of Zehava to help negotiate with Neild and the Young, Quinlan hugs him instead. 

  And Obi-Wan hasn’t eaten properly in weeks, he’s been sleeping in the sewers, and Cerasi’s blood is still caked under his fingernails, and Quinlan nearly knocks him over with the force of their collision. He wraps Obi-Wan up so tight it almost feels like they’d never even left the créche — he’s always felt more like home than the Temple, anyways.

  “Let’s not do that again,” Quinlan says, surprisingly in control of his voice for how wrecked he’d sounded after Bandomeer.

  With shaking hands, Obi-Wan hugs him back, twisting his fingers into the back of Quinlan’s robes until he can’t feel them anymore. “I’ll say goodbye properly, next time,” he promises hoarsely, feeling Master Qui-Gon prod at his mind in concern before Master Tholme leads him away. 

  Quinlan makes a distressed noise and hugs him tighter. “Or you could stop kriffing almost getting killed every mission, yeah? I swear by the Maker that if Master Yoda has to sit me down one more time to ‘break the news’ to me that you've gone awol, I’m going to throw you into a sarlacc.”

  Obi-Wan does suppose it’s a little unfair to do this to his friends nearly every time he leaves the Temple, but with a galaxy so big and so full of need, he knows he can’t promise that. 

  So he presses his forehead into Quinlan’s collarbone, releasing his hands just long enough to tuck himself into Quinlan’s robes instead, and nods against him anyways. “You’d have to find a sarlacc first, Quin,” he says, like making a joke of it will excuse that he’d almost gone and left Quinlan alone again. 

  “Don’t worry, I’ll just stick you on a desert planet, and with your luck, the sarlacc will find you.”

-

  The greatest injustice of it all is that Obi-Wan knows before Qui-Gon even opens his mouth what he’s going to say. No one ever looks at someone like that with good news.

  They excuse him from his last lesson so he can find a private meditation room to process, but Obi-Wan goes to Master Tholme’s apartment instead. He leaves the bedroom doors closed, the quartermaster will send someone to sort through their belongings later, and he settles on Quinlan’s meditation stool in the main room. He knows Quinlan has more belongings than is typically appropriate of a Jedi, but Tholme keeps the living spaces clean and bare, neutral colours blurring together until the white walls stare back at Obi-Wan in accusation.

  He should have known he wouldn’t be able to meditate, anyways.

  After Qui-Gon goes to bed, leaving Obi-Wan with murmured words of assurance and a ruffle of his hair, Obi-Wan slips out of their quarters in his darkest robes. He meets Luminara and Bant in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and they know it’s impossible that their little escapade has gone completely unnoticed, but no one stops them from winding through the different fountains until they reach the one modeled to resemble a spring on Kiffu. None of them had ever been to Quinlan’s home planet, but Obi-Wan had come here often with him even in their créche days, and dropping to sit in the yellow dirt doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

  Luminara sets a simple clay incense burner on the edge of the fountain wall, lighting it as Bant lays out a small offering plate with Quinlan’s favourite sweetcake; they don’t make Obi-Wan help as they go about fixing an altar with little bits from all their cultures, the water-filled quiet between them heavier so heavy it reminds him of those nights on Melida/Daan.

  “Did—” Obi-Wan swallows even though his mouth is dry. “Did you all do this for me, before?”

  His friends exchange a look before nodding. “Both times,” Bant says softly, lighting the last candle before joining him on the ground and for once not worrying about laying out a blanket first. 

  “Quinlan almost didn’t come to the second one,” Luminara admits, standing over the altar with her eyes closed as she breathes in the incense. 

  Obi-Wan simply nods, because that does sound like Quinlan, and he feels horrid all over again for making Quinlan go through this, twice. Inhaling a sigh, Obi-Wan finds the holodisk hidden away in his robes and sets it next to the incense. 

  None of them can bear to turn it on.

-

  The greatest injustice of it all is that, for some reason, Master Tholme did not contact the Temple before hitching a ride back from the moon where the unhappy locals had bombed their ship. And Obi-Wan knows Master Tholme didn’t tell the council they were in fact alive, because then the council would have told Obi-Wan.

  He feels it the moment their ship docks, Quinlan’s presence flooding his mind until his fingers tingle with it, and he shoots to his feet.

  The class of senior padawans stare at him in surprise, and Master Prweex stops mid-lecture, chirping in concer. “Is everything alright, Padawan Kenobi?”

  Breath caught somewhere in his throat, Obi-Wan doesn’t answer, and instead scrambles from the classroom, opening the door with the Force before he can slam into it. 

  Despite popular superstition, Jedi cannot teleport, but Obi-Wan honestly couldn’t say how he made it from the lesson halls to one of the main hangars, where a small group of Jedi masters stand next to a shamble of a ship that spews smoke from several panels. And, there, Master Tholme looking ragged and tired, robes still stained from the explosion and with a cast on his right arm, but Obi-Wan’s eyes snap immediately to the padawan on his side.

  Quinlan is a little worse for wear, and his braids hang around his shoulders instead of pulled up, not that Obi-Wan cares as he sprints the last few yards and launches himself at his friend. The masters step cleanly out of the way, likely having sensed his approach from a few hallways away, but Quinlan clearly hadn’t, yelping as he stumbles to catch him. It isn’t until then that Obi-Wan can accept that, yes, he had mourned him, but for some reason the Force had decided “not yet”.

  “Obes?” Quinlan asks softly when Obi-Wan doesn’t pull his head away from his chest. 

  “Hmm,” Master Rancisis chuckles, the sound edged in saddness. “Perhaps Kenobi needs a moment, Padawan Vos; it has been a long few weeks in your absence.” 

  And Obi-Wan is more than content to stay there the rest of the day, even though Quinlan smells like he hasn’t bathed in a week – and he probably hadn’t. Quinlan still hugs him back and bleeds worry into the Force, as Master Tholme gently runs a hand over the back of Obi-Wan’s head and sighs.

  “I know what Melida/Daan did to my padawan, so I can imagine what you’ve been through the last few weeks.” When Obi-Wan still doesn’t pull away, he continues, “You know, now that I think about it, during their clan wars the Stewjoni had a special marriage rite, when one thought dead returned to them.”

  “Master?” Quinlan asks in confusion, but Obi-Wan grips his robes tighter. He does remember Master Nu mentioning something...

  Master Tholme laughs, only a little rough, and steps away to join the other masters who have started slowly making their way from the hangar. “I suppose I thought it funny, padawan,” he says, “that, if I recall the ceremony correctly, you’re both halfway there already. You will meet me in the Halls of Healing when you’re ready? I’d like to get the cut of yours looked at.”

  “Of course, master. Gimme a few minutes.”

  “Of course, padawan.”

  Tholme sometimes did that, dropped little bits of trivia any time something jogged his memory, and he didn’t often mean anything by it; even with this in mind, Obi-Wan can’t help but hope.

  Quinlan waits until the masters’ footsteps recede, before gently tugging on Obi-Wan’s nerftail until he looks up. “I’ve got an idea,” he says with a roguish grin, and Obi-Wan is young and stupid and scared, and knows exactly what he’s planning.

-

  “You ready?”

  “This is probably illegal, Quinlan.”

  “Not according to Master Nu, it isn’t.”

  “Well, I’m probably going to Stewjoni hell anyways, I guess.”

  “Before we do this, I need you to promise me something, Obi-Wan.”

  “...”

  “We can’t let this get in the way, we can’t... We’re almost knights, Obi, we’ve worked too hard to lose that now. We’ll always have to come second to the Order, you understand that, right?”

  “Quinlan Vos, are you backing out on me? This was your idea.”

  “And you agreed! Stop laughing, I’m serious.”

  “I know you are, Quin. I’m somehow more ready now than I was ten minutes ago.”

  “Good. Because you know I would follow you anywhere.”

  “And I would follow you into this.”

  “Good. Now shut up and light the candle.”

-

  It’s Kit that brings Obi-Wan the datapad with all the forms for his induction onto the council, along with advice and a smile that makes Obi-Wan think maybe accepting the position had not been a mistake.

  Unlike either his master or his own padawan, Obi-Wan is efficient with his paperwork, he knows the quicker he gets it done, the more time he can spend not doing paperwork, just as he knows that to be thorough the first time is to avoid having to do it a second.

  Only one question on the forms gives him pause:

  Is the inductee married in any culture(s)’s customs, accidental or not?

  Well, it had been fifteen years since Quinlan had knotted a scrap of his own robes around Obi-Wan’s wrist, as Obi-Wan had done the same, and the Jedi Order is not made of fools, so he checkmarks the Yes box and adds Stewjoni below it, because he can’t imagine that at least the masters haven’t noticed by now.

(He would come to find that, no, they had not.)

-

i got a little carried away with this one, and didn’t entirely follow the prompt oops

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 34

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Recovery did come, slow as it was. Some days later, Talltail sat by the big glass window. Jake was curled up pressed against his side, snoring loudly. It still felt a bit strange that the kittypet didn’t have even a small qualm about letting a stranger into his home, and treating him as though they were clanmates their whole lives. Talltail certainly didn’t dislike it. It felt safer than sleeping alone, and even if the water the twoleg put down had an unpleasant metallic tang to it, at least he could be sure it wasn’t going to kill him. 

Another oddity he’d found in the den was the twoleg sometimes lit a small fire inside at night, in a little stone cavern in the sitting room, and somehow kept it contained. It was more than a little frightening at first, but also incredibly warm. It was his first sight of real fire. Talltail couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the rare opportunity to closely watch such a dangerous unpredictable thing, feared by all the clans, without having to worry.

 But that was about where the benefits stopped.

In the couple days he’d been there, he had also suffered getting slobbered on by a dog multiple times, and the twoleg constantly trying to stroke his fur. Once it had made the mistake of trying to pick him up, but Talltail had quickly made it clear that was not going to fly. He also had to deal with letting it take on and off the uncomfortable soft wraps and smearing his cuts with a foul smelling goo. The twolegs paws where clumsy and shaky. It made him long for Briarpaw’s much more gentle touch. I will never complain of the smell of herbs again, Talltail thought. Not that he’d get the chance either way. But however unpleasant it felt, he suffered captivity with as much dignity as he could manage. And his wounds did feel a bit better.

The twoleg came up behind them and crouched down, making strange high pitched noises at Talltail, a sound he noticed the twoleg only made at cats. Talltail ignored it, tail lashing when it had the nerve to start touching his back. He turned slowly with a searing glare.

“You are an ugly hairless lumbering fool. You smell of fox-dung. I’d rather sleep in the dirt place than breathe in your stench.”

The twoleg made a pleased crooning sound and went on stroking his fur. 

Talltail continued, “you have a kits’ senses and wouldn’t be able to find your own stupid ugly nose even though it’s attached to your face. You are lower than a worm, and I despise you and everything you stand for. You are too flea-brained to understand a word I’m saying, aren’t you?”

The twoleg meowed back at him. It sounded like garbled nonsense.

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?”

The twoleg meowed again. 

Talltail bit its paw.

Jake snored himself awake while Talltail still held one of its long digits in his jaws. 

“Are you getting along?” he yawned.

Talltail spit out the paw and the twoleg made an amused sound and lumbered away. “We are getting along great,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. You’ve only bit him five times so far, that’s much better than the last cat he tried to take in,” Jake purred.

“Your twoleg does not take hints very well.” Talltail replied, ears flat in annoyance.

“Well I never claimed he was wise. He’s really very fond of you though.”

“Then he truly isn’t wise at all."

Jake yawned and stretched “How’s your brooding going? Anything go by outside?”

“Nothing more than some birds,” Talltail sighed.

“Oh!” Jake said suddenly. “I forgot to mention...I had an idea about what you can do. My friend Nutmeg has seen lots of strays go through here in the past moons. There’s a chance the cats you're looking for were among them.”

“You forgot to mention that?”

“In my defense, there’s been a lot of other things to think about.”

“In which case,” Talltail stood. “I think I have stayed here long enough. My cuts aren’t bad. I can manage on my own without that terrible goo.

He expected Jake to argue, but instead he nodded. “I’d never expect you to stay in a house like this, even I find it a little cramped sometimes. A promise is a promise. Follow my lead and you can sneak out.”

Jake took a couple paces towards where the twoleg was sitting and let out a very loud yowl.

 “Hey! Time to open the door!”

 Eventually the twoleg grumbled, stood up slowly on creaking limbs, and shambled over to the side door. He looked down at Talltail and tried to nudge him back with his long hind leg. Talltail let out a small hiss. Who does it think it is, pushing me? 

Jake winked at Talltail. “Just be casual. Act like you don’t care.”

Talltail pretended like he was busy grooming his chest fur. As soon as the door was open, Talltail shot out faster than a hare, across the yard, and clammered through a gap in the fence. Jake squeezed after him a heartbeat later. The twoleg made a hooting sound, but Talltail was already out of sight.

He huffed in the fresh air as soon as he set paws on grass. Never had he been so relieved to feel it.

With a contented sigh of relief, he turned to dip his head to Jake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll think of you often for being so kind to me. You’ve more than repaid your debt.” 

Jake blinked at him. “It wasn’t just to repay a debt! And I want to go with you.”

 Talltail stared. “G-go with me? This could be really dangerous. I may not like your home, but you're safe here. Where I’m going isn’t, and who knows how long it will take. Do you even know how to fight?”

Jake puffed out his chest “I’ve been in a fight! I got into a tussle with an old stray once, sort of by accident, but I held my ground! See this scar on my ear?”

He turned his head to show off the very, very small nick in his right ear.

When Talltail didn’t respond, Jake gave a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Well, all right. I can’t make you take me. But be careful of the neighbor dogs. And the alley cats. And the rude twolegs. And the cars. The paths and alleyways can get really confusing if you don’t follow them all correctly, and you can end up turned around and running nose first into all kinds of danger. You know where to watch out for all of that, right?”

He was giving Talltail a very pointed look as he spoke. Talltail flicked his long tail in annoyance, but couldn't help looking out at the town with unease. This place was unfamiliar and completely strange to him, not anything his warrior training had prepared him for. Obviously, because warriors aren’t supposed to come out this far in the first place. 

It was hard to admit to himself after he’d been so determined to do this on his own that weaving through this loud foul smelling town made him nervous, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Jake had an amused glint in his eyes. “I know you’re on a super important mission, but if you want to accept this 'kittypets' help, I'd love to show you around.”

 Talltail eventually had no choice but to accept that maybe he did need a guide. For a little while at least.

Jake perked up immediately. “Great! Then I’ll take you to see my friend Nutmeg. You guys seem like you're a similar breed of paranoid, maybe you’ll get along. You can describe those cats to her, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

 Talltail still wasn’t sure about this. He felt deep down that he really did want Jake’s company, remembering a time when it felt like such a relief to go see him. And he didn’t realize until after he left WindClan how empty it would feel to be completely alone for so long. But at least unlike back then, he didn’t have to feel guilty about seeing Jake because it was no longer a simple excuse to get away from his clan duties. But still... I came out this far because I needed to do this on my own, didn’t I? Why should another cat be bogged down with it?  

“This could take a while, Jake,” Talltail warned again as they walked. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?”

Jake’s eyes smiled brightly in the greenleaf sunlight. “I assure you, I have absolutely nothing better to be doing.”

***

Talltail followed Jake, leaping down off the fence into Nutmeg’s yard.

“Wait here, I know how to get her attention,” Jake said, trotting up to a tall glass opening in the nest. He began pawing at the window until a disgruntled looking tortoiseshell poked her head through an opening flap. 

Nutmeg pushed her way into the yard and regarded Jake suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. Is that weirdo still in your house?”

“Actually he’s in your garden.” Jake replied.

Nutmeg’s eyes bulged as she had apparently only just noticed Talltail sitting with his tail wrapped tightly around himself, trying not to look awkward.

“Um. Hi.” Talltail said.

The bristling tortoiseshell flicked her gaze from him back to Jake, not hiding her obvious unease. “Ah. I see.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like strangers in your garden, but I promise we’ll be gone quick. We just wanted to ask about the cats you’ve seen.” Jake looked back at Talltail. “Nutmeg keeps tabs on all the cats in the area, she sees everyone that goes by. Spying is like, her main hobby.”

“I am not spying, it’s a matter of safety. When I see dangerous looking strangers, the cats that go outside ought to know.” Nutmeg’s tail lashed and Talltail knew she was clearly still unhappy about him being there. He remembered suddenly, now that he’d caught her scent, that she was almost certainly one of the kittypets he had frightened not long after arriving.

“Right I'm er...sorry for scaring you before, I suppose.” Talltail muttered. Nutmeg simply flicked her tail in vague acknowledgement.

 Jake nudged her and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I'm sorry for calling you weird.” She then added, quieter, “but what exactly am I supposed to think when a big stranger shows up covered in blood and talking to himself?”

“Anyway,” Jake interrupted before Talltail could respond, “his name is Talltail and we’re going on a quest to find a group of strays.”

“‘We’?” Nutmeg stared at Jake. "Why are you going?"

“Yes we, because we’re friends and I’m a good guide.” Jake retorted. Nutmeg looked very doubtful, which made Talltail a bit nervous. He hoped Jake wasn’t exaggerating his navigation knowledge, but it was too late to turn him down now.

“Well…” Nutmeg hesitated, “A lot of strays have passed by here. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Talltail did his best to describe the five cats. “The only one I need to find is the smallest of them, dark brown almost black, sort of long messy fur, one ear tip sliced off. His eyes are two different colors. Looks obnoxiously aloof all the time. It would have been a couple moons ago.”

“A couple moons ago, that’s not encouraging.” Nutmeg said. “But surprisingly, I think I know who you mean. They’d passed by here before. Made themselves very known, weird bunch, too friendly for their own good if you ask me. I remember because it was a little before I met Jake. Before him, they were some of the oddest cats I’d ever seen. And before you I guess. They stopped to talk to Quince, I think they mentioned something about staying in the big wooded park in the center of town. It’s supposed to be a big area with no cars, and there’s lots of food, and apparently housefolk will feed you too if you know the right ones to ask. I overheard them saying were going to stop traveling for a bit, I guess they just had a loss or something. Mind you, that was some moons ago, I don’t know if they’re still there, but that’s what they said last I saw them.” 

“Wow you remember all that? You’re positive?” Talltail asked.

Nutmeg sniffed, as if she were offended. “Of course I’m sure! I’m sure of every cat I see, especially weird ones.”

“Alright, alright. Do you know where this park is?” Talltail pressed.

“Um...well no, I have no need to go that far outside my house myself.”

“I think I know!” Jake piped up, “I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen it from a distance. We just have to cut through some alleyways to avoid the cars.”

“If you think it’s safe to do that…” Nutmeg narrowed her eyes, “Not every stray likes you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I know exactly where I'm going.” Jake nudged Talltail “See, aren’t you glad you have me?”

“Sure. We should get going though. Thanks for your help. As a reward, I promise never to come into your garden again.”

She snorted. “Actually, as my reward, you can try to keep Jake from doing anything fluff-brained.”

“I never do anything fluff-brained!” Jake purred as he turned with a flick of his tail. “Come on, no time to waste.” 

He scampered back up the fence and beckoned Talltail to join him. Jake was far too excited about the grim mission, and Talltail was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about not giving him all the details. “You’re only going with me a little ways,” Talltail reminded him quickly. “Just to the park. Then I have to continue on my own.”

“Sure, sure, but let's get going! You’ve never seen a town before, I remember how intense it felt the first time I saw it, I’ve got so much to teach you!”

Talltail allowed himself a small purr of amusement. There was still a distance to go. No need to be a drag the entire way when Jake was being so helpful, right? As long as he didn’t slow down.

chapter list / previous / next

[nsheetee]

pairing: prince!yangyang x princess!reader genre: fluff, angst, medieval au (but not really), royalty au word count: 4.4k details: female reader, some cursing, other nct/wayv members as characters (jeno is kind of a douche), duel scene (mentions of blood/weapons), inclusivity notice; to the best of my awareness, I wrote this without mention of reader’s height, weight or skin/hair color. summary: yangyang is not pleased about being forced to marry you, the princess from the next kingdom over who is widely unliked. yangyang never expected to fall in love at first sight, and never expected to fight to the death for you, either. 

the kingdom of wheyshen needs wheat

they always have, ever since the time that the kingdom boundaries were drawn between wheyshen and encity

not just wheat, but metal and fabrics as well, which were made in high quality by the people of encity as time went on and the separation between the two kingdoms widened

for several decades, wheyshen traded with the lee kingdom from far away

it became hard to transport goods, especially during winter and when the rogues in the forests would interfere with the shipping

so, one of the first things that kun did when his father handed him the king’s position in the kingdom was to strike up a deal with the neighboring kingdom for the highly necessary products

due to the complicated past of the two kingdoms, and because kun was willing to do anything to make the lives of his people easier, the deal was struck on one condition

the prince of wheyshen would have to marry the princess of encity

and kun knew he was about to get an earful from his little brother when he told him the news

“what?!” yangyang almost threw his chair back as he stood up, “who gave you the permission to marry me off to some stranger??”

“the divine right to rule directly from the gods,” kun states monotonously, “and dad”

“I don’t care about the gods, they can go pull themselves out of their own asses. I'm not getting married.”

“you are. you don’t have to do it, like, tomorrow but you will get married to their princess.” kun explains 

he moves closer to yangyang’s desk where he’s currently standing, tearing off grapes from the bowl of fruits on the desk and starts popping them into his mouth

“I heard their princess is a witch.” yangyang mumbles through his hand that’s supporting his cheek

kun gives him a blank stare, mouth filled with grapes, “she’s not a witch.”

“how do you know? have you ever met her?”

“no,” kun stops eating, “but if she is, wouldn’t you be the person to think it’s cool to have a witch princess as a wife? she could, like, make potions for you and stuff.”

“that’s not the point.” yangyang whines, dropping back down into his seat, “she’s not even liked by her own kingdom because of all the rumors around her. people haven’t seen her since she was a baby.” yangyang whispers the last part

“you sure do know a lot about your future wife already.” kun laughs

“the prince’s club talks about her a lot.”

the prince’s club is a group of all the prince’s in the area, not minding any kingdom boundaries or past histories

kun was once a part of the club, he knows what goes on during their meetings and what is talked about during the club’s horse rides

he’s 99.9% sure everyone is just over exaggerating

“well, you’ll be the first person to see her and find out for yourself. their whole family is coming over to sign the final contract in a few days.” kun puts his foot down on the matter

“I hate you.” yangyang says in a cutesy and high-pitched manner

“I hate you, too, demon child.” kun replies back as he walks out of yangyang’s study, “and don’t think even about running away or I'll chain you to your bed for the next few nights.”

“kun.... don’t say it like that.”

the few days between kun’s conversation with yangyang and the arrival of your family goes by quick, and pretty soon, yangyang is standing outside of the front doors of the wheyshen castle waiting for you

his family aren’t the only ones out here

there are servants, noble men and women, and knights who have all gathered this morning to catch the first glimpse of you 

your carriages are like a parade through the front yard of the castle, and finally they all stop and the driver of one carriage opens the door

first steps out the king, your dad, after that the queen, and after that their oldest son, who is next in line for the throne

yangyang remembers his name is doyoung; he has never met him personally, but he heard that there is a very big stick up his ass

yangyang wonders if you’re like your older brother

everyone holds their breath when another hand pops out of the carriage, covered in a glove and grasped by your brother’s grip

he helps you step out, and the whole lawn of people greeting you gasp in wonder as everyone sees you for the very first time

you are the definition of a princess

the aura around you, how you hold yourself and how you hold a strong gaze with the people around you shakes everyone with curiosity and adoration 

yangyang doesn’t even notice what you’re wearing or the tiara on your head, he can only see the gaze you send him as your feet delicately touch the ground

murmurs rise out of the crowd but quickly end when your family moves closer to yangyang’s, people dropping down to their knees to bow at royalty

your father politely greets kun, exchanging some words of congratulations to kun’s new position as king 

there’s some more greetings exchanged between queens and yangyang’s father as he sits in a chair, too frail to stand up, but yangyang is only looking at you

warmth seeps into his chest and down to his stomach, like a flood of feelings he has never felt before

the flood covers his heart and makes it beat faster

it’s a scary feeling, but so exhilarating and addicting, as if yangyang is riding his prized race horse as fast as he can go through the fields behind the castle

the chatter between your families dies down and the attention suddenly turns to you two, making yangyang even more nervous

if you’re feeling any emotion similar to the ones that he’s feeling, you’re hiding it pretty well

yangyang feels kun lightly push on his shoulder and it effectively snaps him out of his reverie 

“I'm pleased to meet you.” yangyang can barely get the words out of his mouth, feeling like peanut butter is stuck to his tongue 

he reaches forward and gently takes your gloved hand in his, kissing the top of your knuckles, looking up at you afterwards

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” with your angelic voice and your soft smile towards him, yangyang feels like he just got KO-ed

his head is fuzzy and he’s sure he looks like a fool with his jaw slacked and gapping at you

however, both families start to move inside before yangyang can really process his embarrassment 

people on the lawn start to scatter, still trying to get one good look at you as you walk side by side with yangyang into the castle

he almost jumps out of his skin when you talk to him, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him

“I heard you like horseback riding?” you ask, and yangyang can feel himself heat up

mentally, he’s beating himself up for reacting like this to a girl

he’s been around PLENTY of girls, but something about you is so highly and elevated that yangyang can’t help but fall into your palm and cozily stay there

“y-yeah. I do.” he answers simply, but the words felt like they took hours to think of and leave his mouth

“I do, too! we should go riding tomorrow after brunch.” you propose

“how about we go riding for brunch? we could have a picnic.” yangyang suddenly remembers a spot in the mountains where the sun isn’t blinding and the breeze is cool during this time of year

and then he realizes he just asked you to brunch and made plans with you as if you didn’t just meet 5 minutes ago

he heats up again, suddenly remembering who you are and who he is, and questioning how in the hell you can have him in a vegetative state in one minute and absolutely head over heels for you in the next

“sounds like a date!” you send him that smile of yours once again

yangyang trips over his shoes, sliding along the castle’s tile floor before quickly picking himself up again and walking forward as if nothing happened

(you try not to notice his fall, biting back a laugh)

yangyang can barely sleep that night, and when he does fall asleep, the moon is already lowering in the night sky

maybe that’s why yangyang is almost late to your brunch date

he’s running out of his room, pulling on his riding boots and practically launching himself around every corner of the castle

he runs into the kitchen and thanks the cooks who hand him a picnic basket (he’s moving too fast to see them roll their eyes at him)

sliding into the barn, yangyang breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn't see you waiting for him, taking a second to catch his breath

a second is all he gets before you open the barn door, looking around the place and then at him

“oh, you’re already here. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” the apologetic tone you use makes yangyang shake his head

“no, no. believe me when I say I just got here.”

after preparing your horses, you follow yangyang out of the barn and through the backyard of the castle until you’re no longer on the property

you ride through a small forest, over some fields, and then up one big hill before stopping and tying your horses to a nearby tree

laying down a blanket and the food yangyang picked up earlier, you begin eating brunch

and it hits both of you at the same time

you’re alone

in the middle of nowhere

together

yangyang, no matter how awkward the air around you begins to feel, can’t help but think that you really are so, so beautiful

these types of thoughts are new to him

maybe it’s because he knows he has to marry you one day, and his brain is tricking him into making this easier?

yangyang doesn’t have time to think further when he realizes he has been looking at you and you caught him in the act

“oh, sorry,” he panics, “there’s a bug on you.” he swats the imaginary bug off of your shoulder, mentally applauding himself for his quick thinking

that is, until his cuff catches on your sleeve and he’s left leaning over the food, tugging his wrist while trying not to rip your clothing

he begins to laugh nervously, eyes switching from looking at you to your sleeve before your hand covers his own

he stops moving, he stops all laughing, he doesn’t even think he breathes when you carefully pull his cuff off of your sleeve and let go of his hand gently, letting him fall back onto his side of the blanket

“I-I’m sorry, I just, I—” yangyang sighs at his own stuttering

he realizes he doesn’t feel like himself

why is he trying to shape himself into something he’s not when he’s around you

he decides that stops now

“honestly, I'm not sure how to act around you.” yangyang begins, watching how your face turns to look at him, “you’re my fiancé, but I don’t know you at all. I don’t even want to marry you.”

yangyang says the last sentence timidly, but bewilderment replaces the timidness when you sigh in relief

“that’s good because I don’t either.”

“wait, really?” yangyang perks up

“yes, really. I’ve lived my whole life without a fiancé, and one day one just falls into my lap. that’s how deals work with kingdoms, and that’s how I've been thinking about you for the past few days, just as a deal my dad is making with your brother. no offense, really, you seem like an awesome guy, but I'm just not interested in a relationship right now.”

you add on that last bit as a second thought, but yangyang caught the gist

somehow, your words make him relax tenfold and he doesn’t feel like someone else is talking and moving for him

however, there is that one part of him that aches when you call him “just a deal”

yangyang decides to deal with it later, taking things one step at a time for now

“my brother threw this onto my lap, too. it makes me less lonely knowing that I'm not the only one who’s feeling this way.”

“is your brother an uptight micro-manager with a stick up his ass?”

“yes... is yours?”

“yes!”

the more yangyang talked with you, the more he realized how similar you two are

you both loved horseback riding and pranking your older brothers

you both loved painting and eating the left over pastries that the kitchen is about to throw away

yangyang found out that you’ve been studying ever since you were little and that you wanted to be well-versed in as many subjects that you can be

and you didn’t judge yangyang when he honestly told you that he has no idea what he wants for his future

and he appreciates you for that

soon, the sun rises over the top of the sky and starts to sink back down towards the horizon, and sadly your “brunch” ends

“I'm glad we got to know each other better.” yangyang said as he rolled up the blanket you were sitting on

“me too. I'm glad I'm not being forced to marry someone who’s snobbish or boring”

yangyang laughs at the weird compliment, but that pang in his chest returns

forced...

is it bad that yangyang doesn’t feel like he’s being forced anymore?

is it bad that yangyang could.... willingly marry you?

he doesn’t feel trapped or like he would involuntarily be doing something

.... but do you still feel that way?

did the day you spend with yangyang not change your mind about your relationship like it did with his?

yangyang thinks about that the entire ride back to the castle, with secret side eyes to you and a heart that has unexpectedly sunk 

the next morning, the two royal families gather for the signing of the contract 

kun and your father are sitting at the table in one of the rooms in the castle, the two pieces of paper in front of them as they discuss the last terms and conditions

you’re standing next to yangyang and your mothers are standing only a few feet away

your brother is standing on the other side of yangyang; everyone waits patiently and silently as the kings do business

yangyang’s thoughts are still scrambled from the previous day, and he stares at the floor with his eyebrows screwed together

“are you okay?” you whisper from next to him, causing yangyang to jump slightly

“yeah, just tired.” he lies, and it makes you tilt your head at him

just as it looks like the kings have come to a final decision and they grasp their quill pens to sign the contracts in front of them, the doors to the room burst open, kun’s right hand man running into the room

“your highness, it’s the lee kingdom, they’re here.”

everyone in the room has just enough time to look at each other in perplexity before a group of your guards and the third royal family, the lees, walk into the room

king lee taeyong leads the way, along with his son, lee jeno

at the intrusion, yangyang feels you grab onto the back of his jacket, making him look at you to see uncomfortableness and slight fear in your eyes

“what’s this?” kun stands up from his chair, looking from king lee to his own right hand man to your father

“you are not legally allowed to sign that contract.” king lee states, producing a piece of paper and setting it on the table before your father 

“according to this contract, your daughter cannot marry anyone other than my son, jeno.”

your father picks up the contract and reads it over, scoffing afterward

“this contract was created by our great-grandfathers.”

“it still applies to today. my son and your daughter were destined to marry each other before they were even born.”

while the three kings argue about the validity of such an old contract, yangyang feels you tug on the back of his jacket

he turns around to see the look of fear and uneasiness still on your face

“please, do something.” you're plea stuns yangyang, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to process your request

“like what?” he finally gets out

yangyang is just a prince, practically a nobody in this room when there are three kings and two soon-to-be kings here as well

“I can’t marry him.” you step closer to yangyang, you're dress pressing against his legs and your grip on his jacket tightening, “please, I just can’t.”

yangyang only realizes now that your fear is not from the situation currently happening in the room, but rather from the prince that stands by the entrance

lee jeno

tall and muscular and smart

maybe it would be better for you to marry jeno

yangyang feels a burning at the bottom of his stomach at his next thought, but it’s no doubt that it’s true:

you fit as jeno’s wife better than you fit as yangyang’s

you’ll be a queen one day if you marry jeno, but with yangyang you’ll only stay a princess

“why not? he’s better than I ever could be.” your eyebrows furrow for just a moment at yangyang’s words but you shake your head furiously

“he’s been trying to get me to marry him for years. I don’t care about what he has to offer, I don’t want to marry anyone.”

yangyang has to take a moment to feel pity for you

you’re being pressured into marriage from all sides when you don’t even want anything to do with matrimony

yangyang remembers what you told him the day before, that you’re glad you’re being forced to marry someone like him

although the words don’t sit well with him, he’s taking them and running with the idea that you’d rather be with him than with jeno

“we need to break up this contract, it’s no longer relevant with my kingdoms current needs.” yangyang hears your father declare as he tunes back into the conversation

“we can’t just break a several decade old contract because you don’t like it anymore. we’ll have to do it properly; either a trade, a rewrite, or a duel.” king lee states

“I'll duel.” yangyang speaks up without a second thought and jaws drop as everyone turns to look at him, “I’ll duel lee jeno.”

“huh?” jeno glances at his dad to try and figure out how he just got himself into a duel

“yangyang.” kun gives a deadly glare to his younger sibling, a que to sit down and shut up, but as always, yangyang never listens

“If I win, the old contract is destroyed, if jeno wins, it stays.”

no one speaks, only turning to look at jeno for his acceptance of the deal

when he nods, the three kings disperse and kun orders the guards to get the courtyard ready for tomorrow’s duel

if yangyang thought his sleep a few nights before was bad, that night’s sleep was even worse

yangyang and jeno have been in the prince’s club for the same amount of time and have known each other for years

yangyang knows how good jeno is at dueling

the cause of his tossing and turning was not for the fear of getting hurt or nerves of not breaking the contract

it was mostly about how stupid he was to suggest to duel one of the most skilled princes in the area

the next day, yangyang is in his tent, an assistant helping him put on his protective gear when you walk in

yangyang dismisses the assistant and turns back around to put on his gear himself

you take small steps to him, clearing your throat

“thank you for doing this. you have no idea how much I appreciate it.” yangyang is reminded of the core reason for his actions:

you

and because he still gets that warm feeling whenever he’s around you and thinks of you, he pushes his nerves aside and turns to look at you

“will you help me put this on?”

you nod and step closer, helping yangyang secure one of his forearm guards 

“you’ll be okay... right?” you ask, your voice is full of jitters and you glance up at him for a second

“uh... well... jeno is pretty good at dueling and I..... have only done it three times before—”

“what?!” you yell, making yangyang jump 

he’s never heard your voice at that volume before, and now that he takes a good look at you, you seem less composed than you usually do

“how can you agree to a duel with jeno when you aren’t experienced?”

“I am experienced... I have three fights under my belt.”

“did you win any of them?”

“... I won experience...”

his answer makes you sigh, and yangyang tilts his head

“are you worried?”

“yes.” yangyang’s heart does a backflip in his chest, almost jumping out of his throat in the process, but he quickly reminds himself about what the reason for your worry could be

“I-I mean... you don’t have to. I'll make sure one way or another that you won’t have to marry jeno.” 

“that’s not what I'm worrying about right now... I don’t want you to get hurt.” yangyang feels like he’s about to pass out

you’re worried.... about him

he feels a rush of adrenaline fill him from head to toe

he thinks he might be able to do anything for you right at this moment

“I kind of made you do this, I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“hey,” yangyang gently takes your hand in his, stopping you from fiddling with his forearm guard, “whatever happens is not your fault, I made the choice to do this, so it’s my responsibility all the way to the end.”

you and yangyang share a moment of silence; he thinks that was probably the most grown up thing he has ever said

if yangyang thought his heart was done jumping for joy, the feeling is not yet over

you reach into your dress pocket and pull out a handkerchief 

it’s plain white, but your initials are stitched into the corner in purple thread

you tuck the piece of fabric between yangyang’s forearm guard and his sleeve, tying it around his wrist so that it doesn’t move

“you have my luck. please, yangyang, be safe.” and with that, you walk out of the tent

he feels like a new man when he walks out to the courtyard, sword in one hand and helmet in the other

he’s almost blinded by the adrenaline and thoughts of you from just a few minutes ago

he feels like he actually has a chance of winning this duel

however, once his helmet is on and the duel starts, yangyang faces reality

no matter how much adrenaline and hope he has, he still sucks at using a sword

his arm seems to weight a lot more than just a few minutes ago and jeno seems to be moving a lot faster than yangyang has ever seen him move before

the sound of metal clashing against metal and grunts leaving yangyang’s mouth fill the area, what seems like everyone from the castle watching on to see who’ll win the fight

yangyang thinks he’s about to lose until jeno retreats, letting yangyang take the offense and move closer

soon, yangyang has the upper hand and, by some miracle, jeno’s sword flies out of his hand, landing on the grass several feet away with jeno surrendering to yangyang

cheers and claps break out at the ending of the duel, but yangyang can’t hear anything, his shock too great to process what just happened

he drops his own sword, instead shaking his hand with jeno’s 

jeno accepts the gesture, pulling yangyang closer by his hand and leaning into his ear

“have fun marrying y/n.” he chuckles lowly, walking away from yangyang to join his father

yangyang’s rush from victory and accomplishment die down as he watches jeno’s back retreat

.... did he just throw the duel? so that he won’t have to marry you?

yangyang can’t believe that jeno would do something like that, but the smirk on his face as he sends yangyang one more look tells him that maybe yangyang’s guess could be right

yangyang’s attention pulls away from jeno to you, already making your way down to where yangyang is standing, feet almost running to get to him quicker

you meet him in the middle of the courtyard, slowing down as you reach him 

not knowing how to show your worry and affection, you grab onto his forearms and turn him to you, looking him up and down

“you’re okay?” you ask, pleading with your eyes for him to tell the truth

“yeah, I'm fine.” yangyang laughs; you don’t let go of him yet

“good. I don’t want my future husband to be hurt by me before we’re even engaged.” you try to joke, but yangyang doesn’t find it funny

instead, his smile sobers up and he opens his mouth a few times, trying to get the words stuck in his throat out into the thick air between you two

yangyang didn’t want to deal with his feelings right now, but he’s not sure if he’ll get the courage to confront you again

“so, I know you don’t want a relationship and that you feel forced into marrying me right now... but maybe one day that can be different?”

you swallow and keep staring at yangyang in response

“maybe... we can go on some more horseback rides, or maybe we can paint together someday?” yangyang’s confidence starts to fade when you’re not saying anything in return, your face still void of emotion

“I don’t know... I think I can learn to be a good husband.” yangyang finally gets his thought out, gaze falling as he kicks the ground lightly, waiting for your response

“yeah... I think I can learn to love you, yangyang” your response makes yangyang lift his head, the dumb smile on his face matching yours

maybe it’s okay that yangyang only partially won this game 

in the end he’s the real winner, whether he truly won the match or not, because he gets to marry you

[barnesandco]

Icy Haloes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: brief mention of pneumonia and death in the first paragraph, excessive use of commas.

A/N: I’ve been suffering the worst writer’s block, but I think I’m starting to shake it off with this work, so finger’s crossed we get an update on one of my WIPs soon! Big thanks to @nacho-bucky and @captain-kelli for the extremely helpful advice that allowed me to produce a half-decent piece of writing after who-knows-how-long. It’s also hotter than Hell right now, and it was soothing to escape into a NYC winter while writing this, if you’re wondering where the inspiration came from.

Bucky hates the cold. He detests the way it bites into his bones, abhors the reminders of the graves he used to help dig every time another person in the neighborhood died of pneumonia, loathes remembering how the rattle in Steve’s lungs made him worry that his would be the next. But you, unlike Steve and possibly Sam and Nat, don’t know that. The new cook hired when a spike in missions made it increasingly more difficult for the Avengers to prepare their own meals, you have been here for all of three weeks when you appear in the living room requesting assistance with grocery shopping. 

Sam and Nat got back from a mission just yesterday and are still nursing their wounds splayed across multiple bean bags, Tony has Steve tied to the sofa by the latter’s promise to watch Star Wars, and while Wanda and Vision are available, Bucky stands at attention when you enter before you have even completed your sentence. Steve snickers, and Bucky would cuff him if he wasn’t two couches over and preoccupied with stifling a rising blush. As it is, he sends a discreet glare his best friend’s way, and volunteers to brave New York’s snow-clad streets with you instead, only because he’s a gentleman and definitely not to see the resounding smile in thanks that sends his heart racing.

“Let me go grab a jacket first,” he says, passing by you where you stand wearing a hand-knitted scarf under your jacket and a worn hat on your head, none of it able to suppress the scent of gingerbread on your person. 

“I’ll wait by the car,” you call from behind him, and he grins to himself when he hears Tony say not the Audi! as the elevator doors close. 

Five minutes later, you’re both in the garage, trying to determine which car to take if Tony’s precious Audi is unavailable, and since you’re going to be driving, he sees no reason to suggest otherwise when you head for the Tesla. Although Bucky is slowly catching up with the times, between frequent trips to the local library, the ever-so-helpful internet under F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s guidance, and the miracle of history documentaries, driving a car is one thing he still has not learnt. 

However, you were born and raised in Arlington, Texas, a city with a negligible public transport system, and therefore know how to drive. How you’ll fare on frosty streets remains to be seen. Now, he realizes neither of you really thought this trip through much beyond the date and time of the event, but you’re an experienced driver, and he has faith that you’ll adapt just fine. Besides, it’s not like it’s your first time out. 

The silence in the car is calm, warm, the gentle hum of the radiator only audible to Bucky beneath the still quieter murmur of the electric engine, and you nod your head to an invisible tune as the car speeds down country roads, towards the cluster of skyscrapers in the distance, made cloudy by winter haze. 

He’s so focused on the city ahead that he nearly jumps out of his skin when you speak for the first time since you got in the car. “Is there anywhere you’d like to go besides the supermarket?” You ask, and he sees that you think you’ve bothered him, that you’ve dragged him out against his will, and he doesn’t want to let you believe that.

“I’m happy to go wherever you like,” is his answer, with a smile that he hopes is more placating than nervous, because who knows what it’s like to be the newest part of a well-oiled machine that you think doesn’t need you. While you aren’t with them in the field, you live with them and have, in this short time, endeared yourself to each Avenger in a unique way. Recalling watching Peter do his homework a couple of months back, he thinks of nuclei and electrons, and how you seem to be an example of the first particle. Not only because he is attracted to you, but also because of how you pull people into your circle. Bucky hopes he can be granted the same joy.

“Okay,” you say softly, as if only to yourself, but he catches it and nods reassuringly. “You know, when Sam came with me last week, he actually said that you’re a lot more fun while grocery shopping.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “I’m more fun to be with while shopping than at home, or I’m more fun to go shopping with than Sam?” He asks, turning in his seat.

“The second one.”

“Did he say why?”

A thoughtful hum, and you bite the inside of your cheek while formulating an appropriate answer. “Something about your old-fashioned sensibilities being offended by the prices nowadays--”

“I am not old-fashioned--”

“-- and he warned me to keep you away from the snack aisle because you, and I quote, lose it at the sight of all those Doritos flavors,” you finish with a teasing smile, directed at the road. With no response to that, he resigns himself to sink back into his seat while crossing his arms and grumbling his displeasure, only to perk up with the sound of your laugh, just as you swing into the parking lot of Trader Joe’s.

One successful grocery round later, and Bucky’s closing the lid on a trunk full of grocery bags, one of which consists only of Doritos. He’s going to open the door for you when you stop him and gesture to the cafe across the street with a sheepish look on your face.

“Hot chocolate?” ¨

“Sure,” he answers, and you lock the door. The place is almost empty, what with it being a couple of hours before lunch on a workday, and you order to hot chocolates to go, explaining that you’re just a few minutes away from Central Park and you wanted to go for a brief walk, if that was okay with him, of course.

The hot chocolates arrive, both with every imaginable topping on them, and Bucky hurries to pull out his wallet despite your protests. “Let’s go,” he says, handing you your cup and praying that he can balance his without spilling over, and holding the door for you as you exit. 

New York’s boisterous bustle is dulled by the quiet of winter, the pulsing life of the city hushed as snow starts falling, this November precipitation hopefully a good omen for a white Christmas. This part of town seems to fall silent, and he relishes the peace, the rustle of your jackets as shoulders brush when a rare stranger passes by. 

Soon, the city falls away to the expanse of what used to be green but is now just a domesticated snowy tundra -- Central Park. A lone runner sprints across a pathway a hundred yards away, and you sit down on a bench.

“I love New York,” you say with a smile, and Bucky can see the enchantment of this city falling over you as you close your eyes. Less than a month, most of it spent outside the city lines, and you’re falling for the place he knows as home, and it makes him fall in love with it all over again. To see a familiar place through fresh and wondrous eyes is like getting to read a favorite book for the first time -- a privelege few are afforded, but he is fortunate to be amongst them. The way your eyes flit across the sky following a flock of pigeons, the way you inhale the scent of hot chocolate like no place else in the world can produce, and then how your gaze falls to the untouched, sacred blanket of snow in front of you. The ensuing gasp is one he cannot decipher, and so he asks.

“What is it?”

“I just realized I’ve never made snow angels,” you answer, trembling with childish epiphany, and he looks at you like you’ve grown another head. It’s been almost a century since he made his last one, too, at the age of 12, before he had to resist in order to avoid bringing Steve down with him lest the skinny rascal die from the cold.

“Do you,” he begins hesitantly, “do you want to, right now?” The expression on your face is one of barely controlled want and bashfulness at the desire. 

“Yeah,” you say after a full minute’s consideration. That’s how Bucky finds himself, despite his issues with the cold, on the ground in a field of snow like a starfish against the ground and waving his arms and legs wildly. Your giggles float to him on a cloud of air, breathless, shaking, and he stops after a while to lay there next to you, the silver bond of a new friendship glowing in the gray daylight. 

He’s the first to rise, carefully so as to not disturb the pattern, and he pulls you up after, watches the smile split your face into the fullest crescent moon, warming his insides more than the hot chocolate did. The cold is starting to soak through his clothes, but the pins and needles prickling at his skin soon start to sear with that white heat that comes after touching snow, and he’s warm all over. When you turn to look at him with a thank you on the tip of your tongue, his cheeks pink and eyes icy blue, he smiles back. Thinks he could learn to love the cold, if it comes with companionship like this.

[thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters]

Calm After the Storm

Summary: A storm brings back memories, and an unexpected gift.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past injury, anxiety, fluff.

Word count: 2.2K

Prompt: ‘Trampoline That Got Sucked Up in a Tornado’

A/N: This is for the Unfic Challenge from @spnfanficpond​ It’s my first time participating in a challenge and I had so much fun turning this prompt into the oneshot it’s become!

Beta: @princessmisery666​

|| JJ’s Masterlist ||

(gif)

An uneasy feeling took hold of you when the bare lightbulb above your head started flickering. It was simply a reminder that big storms had an influence on the town’s electricity, but you couldn’t help seeing it as a bad omen of sorts. As if every flicker went paired with a whispered warning.

Brace yourself. Brace yourself.

And so you did.

Dean had his arms wrapped around you, and at the feeling of your body tightening, he dipped his head to bring his lips to your ear. “You’re okay,” he whispered.

He was trying to soothe you but all you could do was whimper in response. “I hate this.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “I know, sweetheart.” One of his hands was in your hair, gently stroking. The other cupped your cheek and lifted your head so your eyes met. “I’m sure it’s not gonna be much longer.”

You knew he was right. Through the anxiety fogging your brain, you could grasp at some common sense. It told you to listen for the wind, or any other sounds coming from outside. The worst was over, you could tell.

It should have calmed you more, but you were still on edge. Ever since the storm a year before, the biggest one in a decade, you were a wreck whenever the weather reports said another was on its way.

Tornados weren’t uncommon where you lived. You were actually more used to them than Dean had been when you moved to this town. Unlike you, he hadn’t grown up in the area and dealt with extreme weather conditions like these for as long as he could remember.

However, your advantage had vanished the moment you got hurt during another one of those storms. It was right after you and Dean moved into the neighborhood. Most houses had still been under construction and it had been a loose wooden beam from one of those constructions that gave you the scare of your life.

You had been cleaning up in the kitchen, when a strong gust of wind forced the beam through the window you were standing only a few feet away from. The impact had shattered both the glass and your left shoulder.

Throughout your recovery, you had seen Dean go from feeling horrified, to being haunted by a heavy dose of guilt you failed to talk him out of, and, eventually, to being overtaken by a sense of determination that had led him to build a storm cellar in your backyard.

One in which you were currently hiding out once again.

“Las Vegas,” Dean spoke quietly into the dimly lit room. “Weekend trip, two years ago.”

Your mind needed a few seconds to catch up, but then you realized what he was doing. It was a game he had invented the first time you were hiding out in the storm cellar. A way to distract you from the fear wrapping tightly around your throat. He would mention a happy memory you two shared, and then you would take turns sharing a specific moment you loved most about it.

This time, you couldn’t respond. You were already finding it hard to focus again, and your body had started to shiver in Dean’s arms despite him already having taken off his jacket and tightly wrapped you in it earlier.

Dean went first instead, he wasn’t giving up. “You wanted to go on that hike,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I remember thinking, ‘A hike, really? There’s so many things to do in this city and she wants to go trekking in the desert?’”

You closed your eyes as you focused on his voice and the rhythm of his hand still stroking your hair.

“But then that sunset happened and the shades of orange light hit your face in a way that knocked the damn ground out right from under me. Even winning the biggest jackpot in town that night wouldn’t have compared to the way I felt when I looked at you on top of that hill.”

Dean kissed your forehead and you nuzzled into his neck. His breath was hot on your cheek, sending the first good kind of shivers down your back since entering the cellar.

“The first night.” Your voice was merely a whisper. You were afraid it would break if you attempted to speak any louder. “You spilled your drink at the restaurant and after you had left for the bathroom to get cleaned up, I heard the people at the table next to us talk about how they thought you peed your pants.”

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the wind outside. Then, Dean’s chest started rumbling beneath yours. His hearty laugh startled you at first, but then you found yourself joining in with a careful chuckle of your own.

“That’s your favorite part of the whole trip?” he asked, but he didn’t sound at all offended. Knowing Dean, he was probably just happy his distraction tactic had proven to be a success once again.

“Well,” you mumbled, already sitting up a bit straighter and feeling less like simply trying to breathe was using up all your energy, “there was also that thing we did afterwards, in the hotel room…”

Dean’s goofy grin sent surges of electricity through your body that made your heartbeat flicker like the lightbulb above your heads. He reached out to pull your face closer to his but right as your lips were about to touch, he paused.

“Listen,” he whispered.

You did as told and immediately understood what he was trying to tell you. Silence. That was all you could hear as the two of you held your breath. The storm outside had to have settled down enough for the noise to have stopped.

“Should-” You licked your lips because they had suddenly gotten dry at the realization you might be heading out into the open. “Should we go back to the house?”

“Only if you’re ready,” Dean said softly, sitting back a bit to give you room to breathe.

You took a moment to think about it. Of course you wanted to stay in the bunker for as long as possible, because you wanted to feel safe as long as possible. But if the storm was over, if the two of you could go into the house again, you’d rather spend the rest of the day there.

Dean stirred when you stayed quiet. “How about I go first?” he suggested gently. He was already moving away from you when he saw the worried look in your eyes. “I’ll only be a minute,” he assured you, placing his hand on yours for just a moment. “Promise.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand before he pulled it away. Within the next few seconds, Dean had gone up the steps and you were left alone. In the dim lighting, you could see your own fingers trembling.

At first you thought it would be a good idea to start counting. After all, Dean had said he would only need a minute. Though you knew that shouldn’t necessarily be taken literally, you thought counting to sixty might help keep you from going stir crazy.

You had to start over a few times because unhelpful thoughts, fueled by worry, tried taking over your brain. You had barely gotten to fifty after the third try when the sound of the latch opening almost made you jump out of your skin.

Light poured into the room and Dean’s head appeared in the opening at the top of the steps. He was smiling at first but when he saw you, hunched over and trembling, his face fell.

You closed your eyes and sighed in relief at the sight of him unhurt. His heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and then he was next to you again. Arms wrapping around your body, hands covering yours. You could feel him trying to pry your fingers open and you opened your eyes in surprise at the realization you were clenching your hands into fists.

You blinked a few times, looking at the crescent moon imprints in the palms of your hands, where your nails had dug in deep. Dean brushed his large fingers over them, and though his skin was rough, the feeling was soothing.

Dean didn’t say anything, just held you until you eased up again. And that’s when you realized he had left the ledge open. There was still light pouring in, as well as the sound of the wind blowing outside. You took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air.

“It’s all good up there,” Dean finally spoke, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath tickle your skin. You weren’t sure that was the reason you got chills, or if it was the thought of going up. But you trusted Dean. If he said it was safe, you would follow him.

You didn’t let go of his hand as the two of you left the bunker. Dean closed the latch behind you while you took a moment to let your eyes adjust to the natural lighting. You took a look around the yard. The place was a bit of a mess. Some of the backyard furniture Dean had tried to secure before the storm, had gotten loose and made its way across the lawn. There was a bunch of trash that had blown over. And there, turned on its side, leaning against the back porch, was something else that didn’t belong in your yard.

“Is that…” you started, a frown on your face.

Dean turned around and followed your gaze. “Yup!” he said, a bit too excitedly for your taste. “Must’ve blown over from one of the neighbors’ backyards.”

You took in the giant trampoline and imagined it being forced up into the air and across multiple properties. The thought of such a dangerous thing caused you to shiver for the umpteenth time that day. Dean noticed and wrapped and arm around you, pulling you close against his warm body.

“Let’s get you inside,” he offered, already leading you over to the backdoor. “I’ll clean up out here. You look like you might enjoy a little nap.”

“That’s just your way of saying I look like crap, isn’t it?” you guessed while making your way through the hallway and up the stairs.

All you could hear was the sound of Dean’s laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen, but it was enough to answer your question.

You woke up feeling relaxed. All stress and anxiety from earlier seemed to have been erased from your muscles and mind. Turning over onto your other side, you spotted the empty teacup on your nightstand.

Dean had come up before you had fallen asleep, to bring you some calming chamomile tea, before he headed into the yard to tidy up. He always knew exactly how to take care of you.

You smiled at the thought of how lucky you were to have a man like Dean in your life, but your face fell the moment you had made your way downstairs and into the backyard. Despite knowing the storm was over, you felt uneasy at the sight of the dark sky. Your hair was swept up by a gust of wind and you shivered.

An unfamiliar sound made you turn your head to the left. There was that trampoline again, the one you noticed earlier before heading into the house. And from the looks of it, the journey which had led it into your yard, hadn’t caused any damage.

It was standing on its steel legs now, looking steady, and creaking steadily every time Dean landed in the middle of the surface, only to be launched back into the air. He twirled and did a backflip before his eyes finally landed on you and he stilled himself.

Dean was smiling from ear to ear, and as you walked closer, you noticed his eyes were twinkling with excitement. He walked over to the edge of the trampoline carefully and held out his hand for you.

“C’mon, give it a try,” he coaxed.

You looked up at him with uncertainty, and there was that beautiful smile again. It made you feel warm inside, chasing away every last bit of anxiety that was left.

The first bounce felt a little unsteady. You needed a moment to get used to it. The last time you jumped on a trampoline was so long ago, you couldn’t even remember when it had been exactly.

Dean joined in after a minute of letting you find your balance.

The two of you laughed and bounced around each other. At some point, Dean came down at the exact time you did, causing you to be thrown up into the air even higher. You squealed happily, closing your eyes as you felt weightless, like you could fly.

You both felt like little kids again. Everything else was long forgotten. The storm, the cellar and the tension. You were free of worry, without a care in the world.

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg woop part 5

Heads Up- Part 5 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"So I guess I'll be staying over tonight!" Suzi said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Fine with me!" Joseph agreed. "I'm very sure Caesar will appreciate the company. Don't you, Cae?" The clay bust, placed next to Joseph on the sofa, nodded in agreement. "Sure, why not."

"But first, get this stupid gear off me," Caesar whined, referring to the hat and bowtie collar Joseph had fitted on him, which he was helpless to remove.

"Why?" Suzi asked. "It looks quite pretty."

"Get it off me or I won't stop complaining," Caesar demanded sternly.

"Alright, Caesar, don't be a grumpy head," Joseph muttered, as he removed Caesar's accessories, placing them on a nearby chair.

That evening, Joseph decided, was movie night. He had a television in his living room which was mounted on a wall opposite of the sofa. Reclined on the plushy couch Joseph and Suzi chowed down on pepperoni pizza as they cheered and shouted heartily at their film of choice, which Caesar didn't understand-- it was a movie about some violet bald man with a weird glove, who somehow kills half the heroes.

Caesar rolled his eyes. "This is the dumbest shit I've ever seen," he complained. He tried to bounce away, but to his dismay, he found that the soft, pillowed surface of the couch didn't work well for his hopping means of transport. He pushed against the couch with his neck, but instead of moving forward, the couch just sprang up and down like a trampoline, leaving the frustrated bust with little forward progress.

He sprung up and down on the couch in vain, but got nowhere, only managing to tip himself over onto his side, landing sideways on his cheek. "Joseph!" he cried desperately. "Get me off this thing!"

Joseph snapped from his distraction of the movie to aid Caesar. "Hey, don't do that. You're made of clay and your face will deform." Joseph scolded, lifting Caesar upright again.

"Get me off this couch." Caesar insisted. "I don't like this movie."

"Alright, suit yourself," Joseph shrugged, lowering Caesar back onto the floor. Feeling his neck base touch the smooth, hard floor of the apartment again, Caesar was once again able to hop, and wasted no time bouncing away toward Joseph's room.

The rest of the night Joseph and Suzi binged film after film, while Caesar aimlessly bounced and thumped back and forth through the house, doing what would have been bored, nervous pacing, if he'd had legs.

"Can you keep it down?" Joseph called from the couch as Caesar noisily thumped along.

"Fine," Caesar complained, trying his best to reduce his jumps to smaller, quieter bounces.

It wasn't long before Joseph and Suzi fell fast asleep, splayed out on the sofa like limp noodles while the television droned on in their sleep. Caesar bounced around, bored out of his mind, but finally glad to have some alone time.

But as he hopped across the living room floor, a gleam of light caught his eye.

The door had been left slightly ajar, likely by Joseph when he ordered pizza. And for the first time, since his sudden, fateful awakening, Caesar glimpsed, through a sliver of the door, the world outside the apartment. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to investigate.

Trying to bounce as silently as he could to avoid waking the snoring artists, which was no easy feat given that his dense, heavy clay form slapped noisily on the wooden floor with each jump, Caesar slowly and carefully made his way toward the door. He tried to peek through the door, but he couldn't see much.

The front door wasn't very heavy, so Caesar tried to push it open for a better look. Bracing his neck against the floor, he quietly pushed the door open with his forehead, and with a few short hops forward the door swung outward, revealing the great outdoors to the little clay figure.

Caesar's eyes widened in amazement. For the first time, he glimpsed the neighborhood, where Joseph's apartment was. It was in a quaint little suburb, with chains of joined houses on either side of the street, and to a bodiless head laying on the floor, everything looked far, far bigger from his lowly perspective.

The night sky shone with a brilliant quarter moon, which hung high in the sky in late evening. There were no people around in the streets, only the bright street lamps and little gleams in windows, and Caesar decided to do a little exploring.

He hesitantly hopped forward onto the doorstep, which was made of smooth marble. Caesar paused to take in the new sensation of the cold, solid surface beneath his neck stump, which felt strange and new, unlike the hardwood floors of Joseph's house that he'd hopped on for the past few days. Caesar couldn't help a smile.

Slowly Caesar bounced forward into Joseph's front yard. The strange new sensations filled Caesar with excitement, outdoors for the first time since his creation. The feel of the ticklish welcome mat under his base. The cool wind that blowed against his painted skin. The smell of fresh-cut grass, the sound of crickets chirping and the faraway drone of cars, and the series of lights that illuminated the deserted nighttime town.

The outside was lovely.

Caesar continued to bounce forward, but winced painfully once he got onto the concrete steps leading to the sidewalk. It felt uncomfortably rough and gravelly against the skin of his neck base, irritating like walking barefoot on the pavement -- and probably worse, as his whole weight landed with each little jump onto the cement. Glancing around for softer ground for some relief, he spotted Joseph's grassy lawn, and made a beeline for it, sighing in relief once he began to feel the hard, abrading ground underneath him give way to soft, cool grass that rustled gently with each landing of his heavy, sculpted torso.

-------

Joseph awoke on the couch, realizing he'd dozed off halfway through Fast and the Furious 2 and awoke three movies later. Suzi was still fast asleep, and Joseph decided not to rouse her.

"Hey Caesar?" he called out, realizing the sudden silence and the absence of his thumping hops. There was no response, and welling up with concern, Joseph stood up from the couch, searching for his artwork-slash-roommate.

His heart sank in horror when he saw the door wide open. "Shit!"

Panicking, Joseph rushed outdoors. He knew that Caesar, legless and armless as he was, couldn't have gotten very far, and looked about the vicinity frantically, his eyes darting left and right in search of his project--no, friend-- until, with a tremendous relief, he spotted the bust hopping about on his lawn. Thankful that there wasn't anyone around to see him, Joseph quickly rushed toward him, and before Caesar could have time to respond, he felt himself suddenly being grabbed from behind, lifted into the air, and carried back inside the apartment.

------

"CAESAR! What the hell were you thinking!?" Joseph angrily scolded. "You could have gotten hurt!"

"It was my first time outside, dammit!" Caesar angrily yelled back. "I was having a wonderful time and you just had to spoil it for me!"

"But what if someone saw you? What if someone stole you? What if you found yourself in danger? You have no legs to run away with, or arms to defend yourself! You can't hop fast enough to save your own life! You're just a helpless, bouncing ball of clay against the big, bad world!"

"AND HOW I WISH I WASN'T!" Caesar furiously screamed, in a voice far too powerful to have come from a small, foot-tall sculpture.

Joseph's demeanor suddenly softened, however, as he saw Caesar's face--contorted into a weeping grimace, his mouth warped in a frown and his eyes narrowed in grief and frustration. Though no tears could flow from his eyes, being made of clay and all, Joseph knew at once.

Caesar was crying.

"Hang on, Caesar," Joseph said sadly, as he locked the door behind with Caesar now safely inside. "I'll just go tell Suzi."

Joseph went back to the living room to awaken his fellow artist: leaving his sobbing sculpture sitting in the hall.

"And how I wish I wasn't," he said softly.

---------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

We all know Kohga is perpetually horny as hell, but I'd love to see what would happen if he ended up taking (accidentally or otherwise) an aphrodisiac potion. 😆

I've actually had a thought for EXACTLY this idea! Let's get to it!

Revali had once again invited his friends over to his home. It wasn't to bond with them of course, but rather, as a means to show off how well he re-decorated the place. New tapestry, a nice vase, the whole nine yards, all within his humble little space. He was currently giving the princess a tour, feathers all proud and puffed.

“And as you can see, Princess, THIS is the finest vase you’ve ever seen, have you not?”

“It is quite the collection! Though I must ask, what is that one?”

She pointed towards a small, pink vial of liquid. He plucked it from the shelf, scoffing.

“Oh, forgot I left it out here. It’s what we use during this time of year. We call it ‘anti down’, and it keeps us from acting a fool during heat. All Rito have it, but I refuse to act like a dog and hump everything. Unlike your little knight with Mipha."

Revali HATED that Link STILL didn't react to that blatant slander. Cheeky, even in his own home. Zelda butted in between them, as per usual.

"I had no idea you Rito HAD something for heat!"

"Because we're above primitive desires. Unfortunately our biology is so unique, it does the OPPOSITE effect if any other species takes it. I'll be sure to put this a-NO LINK!"

Link was starting to eat the decorated fruit bowl, and Revali put the bottle down in order to try to pull him off. Kohga watched their dumb little fruit fight, when he noticed the smallest bottle on the counter. Must be one of those fancy rito drinks. He made sure no one was looking, before he swiped it, tucking it away in his suit. 

"Hey Revali, I'd LOVE to stay and chat, but uh. I'm bored. So, good luck, and goodbye!"

Kohga gave him a mock salute as a goodbye, though Revali's squawking made sure he didn't hear him leave. Sooga looked down at Kohga, lightly scoffing.

"Those curtains were atrocious."

"He could've picked a better way to come out. Tbh it was more effective than catching him with a dick in his beak."

"Well put, Master Kogha."

He chuckled. He showed Sooga the little bottle, as if he was gloating.

“Plus side, I got myself a little present! You want a swig?”

“Polite pass. I don’t trust drinks that I haven’t seen made, unless made by you. But I must commend your sticky fingers.”

“Hey, you know how good I am with these fingers~. Anyhow, here’s hoping this fucks me up.”

He tossed his head back as he took it in one swig, before shaking his head furiously.

“Oh. Oh. EW. God, YOU make drinks better than this.”

“It must be awful, you hate my drinks.”

“Both statements are true. Ew. Ugh, take me home, I need this taste out of my mouth.”

“Would picking you up make the experience a bit sweeter?”

“Maybe, let’s test it out.”

Kohga grinned as Sooga grabbed his husband, and took him right home. Little did he know, a moment of bitterness, made for a VERY saucy Kohga.

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

Kohga grumbled under his sheets. It was rare, but every once under a blue moon, Kohga couldn’t sleep worth a shit. Tonight was one of those nights. He grumbled as he sat up, folding his arms over his chest.

“Not FAIR. I’m TIRED. What is the issue NOW?”

Kohga threw off the blankets, and saw that he had a bulge in his suit. His frustration melted away to amusement, and he chuckled.

“Ah. Was so grumpy, didn’t notice you there. Alright, alright.”

Kohga thought about bugging his snoozing Sooga, but the poor guy barely got enough sleep as it were. Besides, he needed a bit of self love, been a while. He squirmed out of his clothes, and after grabbing a bottle of lube, got himself nice and snug. He lathered up his hands, and grabbed at his cock, only to wince.

“Ooh, you are SENSITIVE tonight. Okay, easy does it. Easy.”

He got himself used to his touch, and eventually he was able to stroke himself. Unlike Sooga, he always preferred a quick, light pace in his handjob. Kohga tossed his head back, dying in satisfaction. Sure, he wanted to be asleep, but jerking himself off while Sooga rested right next to him? Was it ever sweet. It was surprisingly short lived however, as he found himself cumming way faster than usual. It was good, REAL good, but that was definitely record timing. He sighed, removing his cum soaked hand, and wiping it off on a rag.

“Hoo. That was good. Alright, sleep time.”

Kohga covered himself, and fell right to sleep, the end.

At least, that’s what SHOULD’VE happened. What DID happen was him sitting there, wide awake. He thought it was just his body getting that high from an orgasm, but he’d come to realize that as he sat there, his cock was throbbing, and BAD. It felt even worse this time, and Kohga muttered angrily. Fucking hell, he needed to cum again? So soon? This late? Dammit all.

“Alright. I get it. Round two, let’s go.”

Kohga buried his face in his pillow as yet again, started to pump his cock. It somehow felt even better this time around, and Kohga grumbled to himself, really going at it.

“Shit, okay, gonna be one of those nights apparently. Shit.”

Kohga was trapped in an endless cycle. He’d cum, try to sleep, cum, try to sleep. He reached his fifth orgasm, and his body was trembling something fierce. He was a horn dog, sure, but now he was insatiable. He didn’t want to wake Sooga up, poor guy barely ever slept, especially next to him, but Kohga needed him, and needed him now. He got up from his cum covered spot, and nudged Sooga a bit harshly.

“Sooga, Sooga get up!”

Sooga sprang up, quickly looking around the room.

“What is it?! Are we under attack?”

“No. Just, god shut the fuck up and let me fuck your face.”

Sooga was clearly NOT expecting that, especially so late at night. But he was never one to refuse Kohga. So he laid down on his back, and gave not a single qualm as Kohga held onto his hair, pulled his hair back, and shoved his cock right into his mouth. His Master was aggressive usually, but this was something different entirely. Kohga didn’t even mean to. He just couldn’t help but force himself into that pretty, hot mouth of his. Not once, not twice, but three times. Each time Sooga kept himself still (minus his legs, those pushed and squirmed till he pretty much kicked the sheets off), accepting loads after loads of his Master’s cum, each being bigger than the last. Kohga barely spoke, merely full of grunts and grumbles. Kohga pulled away, seeming to be sated, at least for a second. Sooga’s chest heaved under him, and his cheeks were flushed in embarrassment. He met Kohga’s eyes, and saw helpless, uncontrollable lust.

“M-master Kohga, you’re quite...energetic tonight.”

He paused mid sentence, forcing himself to swallow all that cum, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He smeared it all over, making himself into quite the messy boy. Kohga took a deep breath, trying to recall just where his head was.

“I...yeah. Fuck you’re pretty like this. So pretty. You handle all that cum like a real champ.”

Sooga was about to thank his master Kohga, before he suddenly found his dick right back into his mouth. Sooga’s mouth loved such rough, desperate treatment, soaking Kohga’s dick in his drool. Another load, then another. Sooga thought he’d be tired, but he seemed to only fuck him with more fury as time went on. As Kohga forced more cum inside of his mouth, Sooga had to actually push him away, just to get some means of air. He coughed a bit, trying not to choke on his Master’s cum. While it was a treat, it was just SO much of it. Sooga swallowed again, shaking as the thick fluid sank right into his stomach.

“M-master Kohga, please, a breather, just for a moment-”

“I wanna ride your cock. I wanna cum on it so fucking hard, Sooga.”

“If...that is what is demanded of me-”

Kohga knelt down to kiss him, shoving his tongue in his mouth and licking at whatever cum he seemed to have left in that pretty, pretty mouth. Usually Kohga was far more grandiose in his approach, but there seemed to be no room for that tonight. It was just him slamming himself onto his cock, nearly making Sooga jump every time his ass slammed into him. 

"M-Master Kohga, please slow down! I want to enjoy y-"

"I need your FUCKING cum. I need your pretty cum, right in my ass. Enjoy me later."

Sooga was unable to tame his master. He came on him once, twice, thrice. Each time was met with loads and loads of cum littering his chest and stomach. Kohga laid on top of him, sounding just absolutely exhausted. Sooga held onto his back, assuming this was the end of Kohga’s lust.

"You...god, you're insatiable. What number was that?"

Kohga hummed a bit in thought, before looking up at him.

"T...thirteen."

"Holy-master Kohga, are you ill?"

"Don't...know. I just know I can't sleep, and I know I want you SO fucking bad, Sooga."

"Not sure how much more of me you can HAVE Master Kohga…"

Sooga prided himself in being able to help his master, but this was...so much. His mouth was sticky with cum, his chest was soaked in sweat and cum- he hadn’t recalled the last time he was so absolutely filthy. Sooga was about to prompt Kohga to take a break, when Kohga seemed to spring back to life, cock even harder than he was a second ago.

"Get on your stomach. Let me fuck that cute ass of yours. I always liked seeing my cum leak out of you."

"Master Kohga, I'm honored you want me so, but I think all of this is healthy! Maybe you need a moment to collect yourself-"

Kohga held onto his face, kissing his big, beautiful face. He parted after just a moment, springs of hot cum connecting their open mouths. Kohga nearly shook as he wiped the cum from his lips.

"I NEED you Sooga. I'm aching something SO bad, don't make me suffer like this!"

Kohga sounded damn near to tears in his whining. Sooga couldn’t refuse his poor, desperate master. He rolled to his front, and Kohga was on his back almost immediately, rubbing his cock against that beautiful, plump ass of his. Sooga looked up as Kohga rested his chin on his shoulder, trying to find his thoughts. Despite his concerns, Sooga VERY much wanted him to keep going. Knowing his Master wanted him so hungrily, knowing he was getting cum in every part of him, made Sooga's cock terribly hard.

"J-just. Use me as you see fit, but be careful."

He was going to add more, but Kohga’s teeth aas on his ear, nearly making him melt. Kohga’s breath was hot in his ear, and it made a shiver run up his back. 

"It's cute how you're worried about me. It's cute how you'll sit here and let me fucking use you. You look good in my cum. So good. Now, I love you, but stop FUCKING talking, and let me plow you like a goddamn field."

Sooga felt himself gulping at that oh so sensual voice of his. Sooga couldn’t stop that cock just pushing into his ass, even if he wanted to. 

Which he absolutely didn't. 

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

"So you and Sooga have one thing in common, apparently."

"We're both handsome?"

Revali had joined Kohga and Urbosa for brunch, and of course, Kohga wanted to start some shit. 

"One, don't you touch my man. Two, no, you both make shitty drinks."

Revali cocked his head, clearly confused.

"I...didn't make you a drink, ever."

"Talkin about that little bottle. Tasted like ass. Actually worse, I've eaten ass."

"Little d-YOU took my anti rito down?!"

Kohga shrugged at the sudden anger from the random look of anger.

"Your….what?"

"My rito-its for my HEAT! Dear Hylia you DRANK it?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"It's supposed to help RITO with heat."

"And what does-oh. Oh. Oooooh that makes a LOT of sense. Huh."

"Is that why he's not here?"

"Oh it absolutely is. Dude can't walk."

There was a moment of silence, before Kohga loudly slumped his drink, sighing.

"I fucked him at LEAST thirty two times-"

"NO ONE ASKED."

“He did. Multiple times-”

“Why do I keep inviting you to things?”

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter 5

Here marks the middle of our tale, that vast, perilous land between the beginning and the end. The going is treacherous in these parts—the wayward couple must heal on their own, tread the sea of two decades with arms and souls akimbo—but still, it is not unnecessary. The middle is never aimless. Always, always, it has one goal: the ending.

When the lights go up and the curtains close, you clap—perhaps, should the couple reunite (which, of course, they will), you shout “Encore, encore!” But then, at last, you return to your car. You catch the train, or you grab a taxi. At last, having started at the beginning and waded through the middle, you reach the final destination. The night is over; you go home.

Home. Whether a place, a person, a feeling, or a thing—it does not matter. Home is always the goal and the ending, the northernmost star we pray to and walk towards.

[December 24th, 1996]

Two weeks’ vacation in a cabin, tucked deep inside a fold of mountains. Here, amongst the stretches of living nothingness, even the silence has a voice. Owls hoot in the night. The pines’ chatter, their needle-whispers pierced by caws and shifted air—a hawk swooping to ensnare her prey. And if one listens closely enough, one can hear the hunter's a shaky, traitorous breath, which launches the doe across the snow—the echo of his heartsong, the drum to which the doe’s hooves beat. Come back, come back, come back.

This is why Jamie has come here: for the endless conversation between man and mountain, more steadfast than the chill in his heart. In the past four years, Jamie has sold the twin cot (it lies in a salvage yard somewhere, all broken springs and dreams). A different couple has moved into the studio, and when they had spoken of paint jobs—“Perhaps mint green, what d’ye say, hon?”— Jamie had thought, Thank God. He’d happily offered them the keys when they turned to him, pupils dilated with youthful optimism. By that point, there was no space for Jamie and Claire inside that Edinburgh Eden, and so he’d chimed in, “Aye, a bonny color.” (Indeed, the walls are mint now, though a forgotten strip of marigold shines in the northern corner.)

For two years, Jamie has lived with Murtagh in Glasgow, having shed not just his home but his editorial career in publishing. He has grown tired of fixing other’s mistakes—too many of his own in need of correction—and so here he sits on this Christmas Eve, writing towards redemption.

The Grampians are a peaceful place, big hulks of rock scattered with trees—bouquets of fir, oak, and pine cradling other cabins. At dark, their windows flicker, candlelit with the dreams of the aspiring novelists, essayists, playwrights therein. Men and women, all bowed before the cleansing hum of nature’s speech. Like Jamie, they had seen the fliers: WRITER’S RETREAT, TWO WEEKS IN THE MOUNTAINS—and so it was. They were small colony taking its temporary leave, hoping to reconstruct the world according to their own, more favorable terms.

Over supper, the group gathers and shares their ideas: outlines, pieces of dialogue, an inspiring poem they’ve loved since childhood. And while Jamie is generous with his advice, he holds his notebooks against his chest. Enraptured by this warm aloofness (for is it not the way of all great wordsmiths?), the others whisper behind their palms, “Have you read Fraser’s story?” Into napkins, “No, have you?”

But among the fifteen guests, only one has read Jamie’s story—and tonight, Jamie waits for her inside his cabin. His latest draft is fanned around him, some sections highlighted and others slashed. They are not unlike Claire’s old strike-throughs, which had snipped the would-be Dalhousie and eventually, Jamie’s own name, from her life (a reclamation of Beauchamp, a transformation to Randall). Among Jamie’s scribbles are his friend’s edits, which are much more forgiving, much less forceful than the lines of his own red pen. Each comment reads like a bashful request: “More clarity?”, “Switch the verb here?”, “Too many adjectives?” as if she needs permission to occupy the margins. Should I really be reading this?, she seems to say, the bare-backed rawness making her squirm.

But she is helping him, his friend. And so she sees Jamie’s drafts before John, his agent, and before Fergus, his assistant and most loyal advocate. With each comment, she brings him closer to understanding, to the better beginning, middle and end. Note by note, to the way his story (their story, for it can never be Jamie’s alone) should be. All rhymes and logic, had it not veered off-course.

Is Alexander too cold here? Shouldn’t he say something? (He should have.)

It seems out of character for Alexander to never visit his daughter’s grave? (Grief carves cowards out of heroes.)

Shouldn’t he try to win Elizabeth back? (God, yes. He should have tried harder.)

The knock comes three minutes later, as expected.

“Hello?”

“Door’s unlocked.”

“Oh!” A muffled apology, embarrassment for the delay. “Sorry,” the visitor says. “It’s late. Didna ken if ye still wanted to talk or not. I brought—well, I finished reading your last chapter.”

And now another player enters this fifth act, tip-toes quietly onto the stage. Only a slip of a thing in the cabin’s doorway, cheeks pinked by the storm’s sharp nip. She is Jamie’s friend-slash-critique partner, and even her entrance is punctuated by a question mark. The score of owl, pine, hawk and hunter swells, buffeted now by new notes: the crack of chapped lips smiling, the anxious shuffle of papers, and—

“Dinna fash, I couldna sleep anyways,” Jamie assures her. “Did ye like it, though? The new ending?”

His friend inhales sharply, stealing as much oxygen as the room will allow. Everything—the threadbare futon, the TV’s antennae, the welcome mat and Jamie’s body—bends towards some invisible presence. A ghost between between all.

“It was…a bit different from the last one.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘Nay, I didna like it.’”

She looks shyly at the ground, one foot treading nervous circles into the planks.

“It was a bit too sentimental is all. After everything. All that time and silence…D’ye really think Alex and Lizzie could make it?”

Her words are a blow to Jamie’s stomach, and the pages are fire in his hands. He puts them down, wants to thrust himself under a blanket of snow to freeze the flames.

“In a fairy tale, maybe, but life isna a fairy tale. And d’ye no want to write truths?” She looks up, and her eyes gore him. “This story isna a fairy tale either, Jamie. Yours never are.”

“Aye…aye, I s’pose they’re not,” he replies, thinking of his other novels and short stories, essays and poems. Each accepted by John’s gimlet eye, only to meet their end in a publisher’s slush pile. (“Too dark, too wallowing,” an editor once wrote.)  

“Give it another go. I’ll help ye tomorrow, if ye’d like,” his friend offers. “Three days left. I reckon we’ve time to sort the kinks, right the wrongs.” (Three days will never be enough for Jamie’s wrongs.)

“I’d appreciate that, lass. Verra much.”

His friend looks behind her and at the moon, a shy sickle in the sky. It draws her toward the door and the snow-covered mountainside.

“Weel, it’s a long walk back,” she says. “Wanted to give ye that before the morning, so I guess I’ll just…”

“Will ye stay with me tonight?” Jamie blurts. And he hates himself for saying this, the way it sounds outside his mouth and inside his cabin, landing on the unmade bed. Its despair makes it ugly. But.

But if his friend stays, Jamie thinks, perhaps the emptiness will leave. If his friend stays, perhaps his story will correct itself, falling into its natural rhythm, by the force of whatever solace she can give him.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he continues, “and I…I dinna want to be alone.”

She pauses, thinks it over before saying, “Okay. Just for a bit?” (Just for a bit? Another loaded question, and one he doesn’t want to answer.)

“Thank you,” Jamie whispers, and Mary McNab removes her coat.

____

Long before daybreak, Jamie wakes. He gathers his draft, made complete by that final failing chapter, into a single stack. He retrieves a box from his suitcase, which is swathed in his old holiday sweater, and it speaks to him. A quiet loudness, like the murmur of the Grampians. You mean your lager-stained pullover? With the Santa looks that looks like he’s got vomit in his beard?

Inside the box is a gift—a vase, azure porcelain—though Jamie has no plans to send it across the Atlantic, to the Boston apartment where his ex-wife kisses another man. No. This vase will stay with Jamie, forever hidden on the high shelf of a closet, or exiled to the back corner of a desk drawer. Like his grief, it is something that he owns—this small cut from a cloth of unraveled dreams—to be kept and locked safely away. There, there, always there. All fancy people have vases.

Jamie wraps the box with his manuscript. One by one, he folds the pages over and under, seals the edges with tape to form an inch-thick layer. So much history around this small, delicate thing—their story, with the ending Jamie cannot use and which cannot be the truth. At last, he cuts the string of wool, which still drips from his sweater after all these years, and it rasps, Do we have time? Of course we do.

Finally, Jamie weeps—a mournful sound that joins the chorus of this great, big mountain—and ties a frayed, red bow.

____

(Jamie does not realize that Mary watches him from the bed. “Tell me about her,” she wants to say—for once a statement and not a question—but she does not. Instead, she calls to Jamie, presses her goosefleshed nakedness to his. And as they move together, slow but unfeeling, she pretends she is a vessel. Closes her eyes. Makes room for the ghost. I’m Claire Beauchamp. Just plain Claire Beauchamp.)

____

Here, the idea of a writer’s retreat, the introduction, and the parentheticals (although those are also inspired by one of my favorite authors Kate Atkinson) are my lame attempts at trying to be Lauren Groff. Actually, the next handful of chapters are the result of my obsession with her novel Fates and Furies—which you should absolutely go read, right now.

One of my favorite parts about writing a modern AU is finding ways to fit in canon characters or references. I started this chapter having no idea who Jamie’s critique partner was, but it very quickly came together once there was a remote cabin, Jamie inside it, and a woman coming to visit him. I hope the reveal is at least somewhat...fun? The vase is also obviously a nod to Outlander, and, well, I’m assuming y’all caught on to Jamie’s character names (a bit on the nose, lmao).

I’m not crazy about this introduction (it’s...a bit much...but it’s meant to tie into the introduction of Chapter 1), but the final paragraph from Mary’s POV is actually one of my favorite paragraphs in the whole fic.

I also think I wrote this during a snowstorm, wheeeee!