#many many measurements and some relaxing scents! ;)

[britishchick09]

@goodbye-little-yellow-bird recommended this self published phantom book and the preview is amazing! i was looking for the full thing...

and discovered that it was originally a 2005 fic!! :o

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi, Since it is the Fall season and Halloween is near, I was wondering if you could do Hazbin Cast x Reader, where it is romantic or platonic short stories but they are all Fall/Halloween-themed?

Romantic:

Lucifer - Haunted Maze -

He didn’t quite grasp why he’d suggested this adventure in the first place. It wasn’t fear that held him back—after all, he was the embodiment of darkness, the big bad devil himself. But amidst his bravado, a flicker of insecurity danced in his chest. Perhaps it was the need to impress you, or maybe it was the realization that after seven long years spent nursing his wounds from Lilith, so much had shifted in the world—and within him.

You both sported casual attire, clad in comfortable jeans and T-shirts that spoke of a relaxed night ahead. Excitement bubbled within you as you approached the entrance of the maze, the air thick with anticipation of what lay beyond. With the king of Hell by your side, this was bound to be an extraordinary experience. You bounced on your heels, your heart racing as you absorbed the eerie ambiance and listened intently to the rules. And just like that, you were off to the races, plunging into the unknown.

It was impossible to choose which aspect thrilled you more: the delightfully creepy atmosphere of the maze or the sight of Lucifer, the master of mischief, visibly unnerved as he navigated the twists and turns. Yet, the most magical part of this escapade was the way you both clung to each other like schoolchildren lost in a thrilling game, your laughter echoing in the shadows, creating an unbreakable bond that brought you closer than ever before.

Alastor - Baking -

He was bursting with enthusiasm to share some of Louisiana's culinary secrets with you, ready to whisk you away into the world of gumbo and jambalaya. But what he hadn’t anticipated was your own infectious excitement as you revealed plans for a homemade apple pie and caramel apples. Despite his usual aversion to sweets, denying you was simply out of the question; your passion was too irresistible.

Clad in your matching aprons, you both chuckled softly as you navigated through the mountain of cookbooks scattered around the cozy kitchen. The air was filled with the intoxicating scents of flour, sugar, and spices while a delightful chaos unfolded. You danced around each other, laughter bubbling up as you measured and mixed, transforming the kitchen into a whimsical wonderland of baked delights.

By the time nightfall claimed the day, the countertops were brimming with an array of confections that could tempt even the most disciplined. Yet, the sweetest part of the evening wasn’t just the delectable treats you’d created together; it was the gentle, lingering kisses shared amidst the flour-dusted chaos, each one a tender reminder of the enchanting memories you were crafting side by side.

Vox - Pumpkin Patch -

In his living years, he’d often heard tales of couples embarking on this charming tradition, though he had never truly participated himself. Now, with you by his side, he felt a surge of willingness to dive into this age-old custom. There was something undeniably endearing about selecting something special together, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you shared. Though he’d never admit it aloud, the thought warmed his heart.

He couldn’t help but blush at the sight of you in your simple overalls, a refreshing contrast to your usual work attire. You radiated a wholesome charm that made his heart flutter. In that moment, he felt an unexpected sense of domesticity, a cozy warmth that enveloped him as you stood together. Even though he was still dressed in his formal suit, your bright smile and gentle words encouraged him to embrace the moment and fully enjoy the date.

After you both selected your pumpkins, his grin widened, stretching from ear to ear. You were delightfully cute, struggling to carry as many pumpkins as your arms would allow, and he couldn’t help but find joy in your determination. He didn’t even think to mention his ability to teleport them home with a snap of his fingers; instead, he allowed his heart to swell with love for you, savoring the simple pleasure of being together in this enchanting moment.

Adam - Scary Movies -

Scary movies held no terror for the first man. Adam had witnessed a myriad of horrifying sights throughout his time as both a living man and an angel. With a heart full of courage, he was ready to be your knight in shining armor as blood-soaked apparitions and creepy clowns flickered menacingly across the screen. Nothing could shake his resolve—or so he thought.

Dressed in comfortable sweats and without his usual mask, Adam wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you prepared to press play on the TV. His smile was wide and infectious, and he secretly hoped you’d leap into his arms, proclaiming him your one and only lover, your fearless savior. But reality had other plans, far from the fantasy he envisioned.

As the final movie of your horror marathon drew to a close, you found yourself a laughing, blushing mess beside him, while he transformed into an adorably clingy bundle of nerves. It hadn’t even taken an hour for him to succumb to the tension, burying his face in your neck and holding on for dear life. The only silver lining of the night was the way you protected him from nightmares, showering him with sweet kisses and gentle cuddles, ensuring that he felt safe and cherished amidst the chaos of the films.

Husk - Fall Leaves -

He wasn’t one for fun, love, or anything that didn’t involve the comforting depths of a bottle. Yet, you were the radiant light in his otherwise shadowy world, and he would drop everything for you in a heartbeat. You were the only one who stood by him when life felt bleak and heavy, so he was ready to step outside and embrace the messiness of life alongside you.

He had no clue how you managed to charm Lucifer into conjuring trees adorned with vibrant, falling leaves, but your infectious joy made it impossible for him to resist. As he watched you adjust your little outfit, a warm smile tugged at his lips, despite his best efforts to suppress it. With rakes in hand, you both set to work, gathering leaves to create a magnificent pile, eagerly anticipating the moment when you could leap into the crisp autumn bounty.

He had to admit that the first few jumps felt a bit strange, a quirky tradition he was still getting used to. However, as you continued to play and laugh, he discovered that this outdoor activity was more addictive than any drink he’d ever known. The thrill of leaping into the colorful leaves became infinitely more enjoyable simply because you were by his side. He’d gladly dive into autumn leaves all year round if it meant sharing those moments with you, wrapped in laughter and warmth.

Platonic:

Charlie - Pumpkin Carving -

She was the one who suggested pumpkin carving, a clever idea to break the ice and strengthen your friendship. Since you were still relatively new to the hotel, it was the perfect excuse to spend some quality time together and deepen your bond. After all, what better way to get to know someone than through a little arts and crafts?

The lobby was transformed into a creative playground, with a pristine white tarp spread out like a canvas and one enormous pumpkin waiting to be deseeded and carved by the two of you. The experience quickly turned into a delightful mess, with pumpkin seeds flying and the sticky insides of the gourd splattering everywhere. Laughter echoed off the walls as you both embraced the chaos, reveling in the joy of your shared endeavor.

As you carved and chatted, you discovered so much about one another, and with each passing moment, you felt more at home in the hotel. Charlie’s quirky personality was a breath of fresh air, and you couldn’t help but smile at her antics. If she was willing to embrace your own sinful quirks, you could definitely see this blossoming friendship becoming something truly special.

Angel - Dressing up -

This Halloween, you were determined to shine; however, your fashion sense was more frightful than fabulous. Your quirky friend, the spider demon, with a flair for style, was eager to help select the perfect costume. While the thought of being dressed by an overly seductive arachnid gave you hesitance, your trust in him was unwavering.

The real fun kicked off once you stepped into his fabulously chaotic room. You two explored various costume possibilities, from whimsical animals to bizarre inanimate objects. After a spirited debate, you both agreed that a chic, simple costume would be the perfect choice. With some creativity, Angel transformed clothing and makeup into a masterpiece while seamlessly addressing your concerns with a playful grin.

Amidst the playful banter and flirtatious jabs, you could feel the bond between you tightening like a spider's web. When he finally unveiled your outfit, you were relieved and delighted! It was stylish yet tasteful—no “thrown together by a toddler” vibes in sight.

Rosie - Full Moon -

When she invited you to a night of stargazing under the full moon, a tiny voice in your head couldn't help but whisper that she might have sinister intentions—like sacrificing you in some ritualistic feast for her colony. But those wild thoughts melted away as you arrived at the rendezvous point to find her setting up a cozy scene with a telescope and blankets, ready for a night of the moon and stars.

She whipped up a delightful picnic that catered to both your cravings, complete with snacks as varied as the stars above. As you snuggled into the blankets, the chill of the night felt invigorating rather than off-putting. With each passing hour, you watched the sky transform while sharing the latest gossip and secrets, laughter echoing into the night.

The friend date turned out to be nothing short of magical. As dawn began to break, you both reluctantly packed up, yawning but utterly satisfied. She beamed joyfully, thrilled that you had chosen to spend the night exploring the cosmos and each other’s thoughts. It was a night of friendship that was as charming as it was entertaining.

Vaggie - Hay Rides -

You were buzzing with excitement to take Vaggie on an unforgettable adventure! Ever since she and Charlie became an official couple, it had been a challenge to carve out some quality friend time. So, when Charlie graciously offered you both a day to yourselves, you practically flew out the door! Standing in the dusklit field with cash in hand, you couldn’t help but tug Vaggie onto the hayride, giggles bubbling up as you set off on the great ride around a farm.

As the ride bounced along, it took a moment, but soon Vaggie’s initial hesitation melted away, replaced by a radiant smile that mirrored your own excitement. The small farm around you was a whimsical blend of charm and spookiness, with enchanting decorations that made the whole experience feel like a Halloween fairytale. You could see the joy in her eyes, and it warmed your heart to know she was glad to be there.

Once you both hopped off the hayride and snagged some delicious treats for the trek back to the hotel, light banter flowed easily between you two. It felt like old times, and Vaggie expressed her happiness at rekindling a friendship you once feared was lost. She made it clear that she was eager to put in the effort to spend more time together, and the promise of future adventures filled you with anticipation.

Lute - Bonfires -

Lute wasn’t one to slack off—training was her life’s mantra. But when the exorcists practically begged for a Halloween party, it was Adam who ultimately nudged her out of her comfort zone and into the outdoor festivities. You, her best friend, were the first to greet her with a grin, pulling her toward the bonfire where you knew the chaos would be at a minimum.

As you settled down, the crackling flames and the earthy scent of burning wood created a cozy backdrop for your conversation. You and Lute dove into discussions about new training techniques and strategizing battle plans for upcoming exterminations, your voices mingling with the night air. The only interruption came from Adam himself, who swung by with his usual enthusiasm, trying to coax you both into his quirky game of hide and seek. You exchanged knowing glances and politely declined, choosing instead to savor the peaceful moment.

When the party finally wound down, the scene was a chaotic tapestry of friends sprawled out in various states of slumber, with tents holding those lucky enough to make it to shelter. But you and Lute, the dedicated fighters, remained wide awake, the smoky aroma of the campfire still clinging to your clothes. As dawn broke, you plotted your playful revenge on Adam, eager to disrupt his hangover with the kind of mischief only best friends could concoct.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

“if i offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too?” THIS IS MY FAVOURITE LUCIEN LINE OF ALL TIME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REWRITE IT WITH HIM AND THE READER BCUS WE ALL DESERVE THAT LOOSH SPICE

MINE, TOO! I hope I’ve done this justice and that you enjoy! 🥹

Some young, fun, cocky Lucien to warm us this Wednesday!

Here you go! 💕

Warnings: Just a very light sprinkle of smut 🌶️

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The Moon on a String - (Lucien x Reader request)

Energy was heavy in the air, thick on your skin and tasting like moss and woodsmoke.

You felt beautiful. In your gown that flowed around you, with the flowers pinned in your hair, the curls cascading freely about your shoulders…you could well be the poster girl of Calanmai. A true embodiment of the start of spring.

Excitement rose in you as you travelled, on foot, with your small group of friends from your modest Spring Court village. You could see the lit fires from miles away, hear the sensual thudding of drumbeats that seemed to snake over your skin. You couldn’t wait to drink and dance the night away, to laugh and see familiar faces—

One face in particular. Golden skin framed by bright red hair…

“Lucien won’t be able to take his eyes off you tonight.” Your friend said from beside you, as if she’d read your thoughts. Or glimpsed the blush colouring your cheeks.

You rolled your eyes, slipping your shoes off and sinking your feet into the soft grass. “Lucien and I are just friends.”

“Well.” She smirked. “He’s a mighty good friend, considering the efforts he makes to stop by the village to see you so often. You know — considering he works for the High Lord and has a great many important matters he probably has to attend to.”

It was true, Lucien had built up quite the habit of visiting you at your village, distracting you from your work by chatting with you and making you laugh. And blush. And feel giddy every time you were in his company.

He may have been the sole reason behind the heady anticipation building through your body. That, or the charge of lust snaking through the air.

You and your friends crested the hill, coming face-to-face with the celebrations. The ground vibrated beneath your feet with the force of the drumbeats, and you felt yourself being lulled towards the heart of the festival. People were already dancing, their faces tilted to the skies and their bodies moving in tandem with each other. Moans of pleasure were a lilting song caressing your ears.

Immediately, your small group of friends was dispersing, finding familiar faces or being pulled into dances or heading for the tables of food and drink. You headed to one of those tables yourself, your eyes darting around and, not-so-subtly, searching for a certain redhead.

You grabbed a chalice of faerie wine. You wanted to dance with him, to feel his hands on your body. It had never gone beyond lingering glances and flirtatious comments. You wanted — needed — more. And tonight, the festival, was the perfect occasion to take that step.

But as the first hour pedalled on, the wine soaking into your body, Lucien was nowhere to be found. You tried not to think too deeply into it as you mingled with friends and allowed yourself to be tugged into a couple of dances. Pathetic, to measure your good time on whether or not you saw him — and yet, you’d been so looking forward to it. You couldn’t deny that your enthusiasm dipped a little with every passing minute that held his absence. 

Breaking free from a circle of dancers, you floated over to another table, intending to chase your restlessness away with more wine. It was as you reached for a bottle that a pair of hands enclosed over your eyes, blocking your vision. A familiar, earthy scent invaded your senses, and your body was immediately on alert.

“Evening.” Lucien’s deep, caressing voice reached your ears. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

And just like that, a genuine smile was tugging at your lips. Your limbs relaxed, and you turned in his hold, your body brushing his as you faced him.

“You can’t have been looking that hard.” You jibed. “I’ve been dancing.”

His deep russet eyes immediately drank you in, floating from the gentle curls in your hair, over your pretty face, down over your dress and all the spring-themed adornments you’d accessorised with. He licked his lips, meeting your gaze again. 

“You,” he hummed, “are a vision.”

And he was looking mighty resplendent, too, decked head to toe in tailored Spring Court attire, different shades of greens and browns suiting him perfectly. Your eyes snagged on the brilliant burst of red hair that fell about his face. So, so badly, you wanted to run your fingers through it, find out if it was as silken and soft as it looked.

“You clean up nicely yourself.” You returned. “I’ve been looking for you, too, by the way. I wasn’t sure if…”

Your words trailed off, a light blush heating your cheeks. You’d almost shown your hand; revealed the envious thoughts that had begun to claw at you, of Lucien spending the festival with a female that wasn’t you.

His head tilted, the gesture not unlike a curious fox. “You weren’t sure if what?”

The wine — it was the wine that made you so honest. You calmly replied, “If you’d already found yourself company for the evening.”

And Lucien fucking Vanserra saw it for the jealous, insecure worry that it was. His eyes studied your face, and his lips twitched.

“No, madam, I have not.”

The relief that filled you was shameful, but you didn’t care. You smiled up at him, simply happy that the evening wasn’t a lost cause after all.

“I was actually hoping...” He tucked a curl away from your face. “That you might do me the pleasure of keeping me company tonight.”

Trying to keep your smile from splitting your face, you glanced down. “I’d like that.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The two of you danced and drank and laughed until the first sprinkles of daylight began to bleed through the night sky. You didn’t think you’d taken your hands off each other once, even as you’d stopped to refill your glasses and talk to people.

In the blink of an eye, the festival had reached the point of slowing down — the time when people exchanged dancing for kissing and touching, and the music was drowned out by pleasured moans. Lucien took your hand, dragging you past numerous public displays of affection, and though the boldness of it made a thrill shoot through you, you were excited to be alone with Lucien — uninterrupted.

On legs tired and achy from hours of dancing, you climbed a hill a short walk away from the festival. Lucien led you to the top, the grass soft against your bare feet. The peak gave you a perfect view of your surroundings, and Tamlin’s sprawling estate in the distance. 

The two of you laid back in the grass, staring up at the sky that was rapidly lightening. Lucien’s arm brushed yours closely, and you turned your head to find him staring at you, his hair falling around his face. 

“…what?” You breathed a laugh. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Other than the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen? The fullest lips? The—”

“Shut up.” You snorted, swatting him. He quickly grabbed the offending hand and held it to his chest.

“I could spend the rest of this glorious evening waxing poetic about your exquisite features.” He said quietly. “Or I could just show you how wildly I like them. Entirely up to you.”

Your smile slowly softened, nerves and excitement warring in your stomach. “I think I’d prefer it if you showed me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

His warm breath caressed your face, smelling deliciously of berries. You watched as he inched closer to you, his large, warm hand moving up to cup your cheek. Your eyes only fluttered shut when his lips were brushing yours, and you readied yourself for the kiss you’d fantasised about many, many times.

“Y/N?”

The two of you quickly pulled back at the interruption. Glanced up just in time to see the familiar male that was approaching, looking a little breathless.

It took everything in you not to groan in frustration as you painted a mild, pleasant smile on your face at the sight of Peteyr, a male from your village. Your friends had teased you numerous times that the male — a few years younger than you — had taken a shine to you, and spent a lot of time gazing longingly in your direction. He was sweet, harmless enough, and you tried your best to treat him with kindness—

But his timing was awful.

Beside you, Lucien didn’t bother to mask his deep sigh. He slumped back on his elbows, watching as the male reached you.

“Hi, Peteyr.” You sat up. “You look out of breath.”

“I—”

“Hello, Peteyr.” Lucien drawled, a lupine grin on his lips. “New shoes?”

Peteyr seemed stunned that Lucien Vanserra was even acknowledging his existence. He blinked, glancing down at the spotless, polished shoes on his feet. A blush coloured his cheeks. “Yes. I got them for the festival.”

“They’re lovely.” You subtly gave Lucien a warning nudge; one that said, be nice. “Have you had a good time?”

“I have.” His floppy, brown hair moved as he nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been looking for you — to wish you a happy Calanmai. And to give you this.”

From behind his back, he plucked a gathering of wildflowers, bound tightly together by thick blades of grass. He practically thrusted them at you, the movement causing dandelion fluff to float and land at your feet. 

You blinked, accepting the makeshift…bouquet. “That’s so kind, Peteyr. Thank you.”

If possible, the scarlet blush of his cheeks burned darker. His blue eyes were positively glowing as he dipped his head and stepped back.

“Enjoy the rest of the festival.” He said, nodding to Lucien, also.

“You too, Peteyr.” Lucien’s lips kicked up into a lopsided smirk. “Don’t get those shoes dirty, now.”

The poor male looked like he may collapse if he lingered a second longer at the centre of attention. He quickly turned, beginning his descent back down the hill, but you were pushing to your feet.

“Peteyr?” You called, quickly following after him. The male glanced up.

His eyes widened as you caught up to him and pushed up onto the tips of your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled back, a smile on your lips, and poor Peteyr looked like he may be knocked straight down that hill with a feather. Or a plume of dandelion fluff.

“Thank you — really.” You said. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

The male — Mother bless him —  just about mustered the ability to turn on his feet and stumble back down the hill. You waited until he’d got to the bottom before turning back to Lucien.

Lucien, who was the picture of pure, arrogant ease, his hands resting behind his head as he watched you with a grin. 

“Nice flowers.” He said. “I think you just made his entire year.”

You scowled, slumping back down beside him. “You didn’t have to be so…you.”

“But you like it when I’m me.”

“Peteyr is a sweetheart. You should be kind to him.” You folded your arms. “And I like my flowers, thank you very much. He earned that kiss.”

Lucien pushed up, amusement dancing in his eyes. “If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?”

“Not sure. I’m contemplating pushing you down this hill.”

His lips puckered in a jesting pout as brought his face closer to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m just jealous because Peteyr brought you flowers and I didn’t.”

“And he had new shoes. You need to step up your game, Vanserra.”

Lucien snorted as you laid back on the grass, your eyes returning to the sky. But he remained hovering over you, the ends of his hair tickling your face. 

You cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you keep staring at me like that?”

“Because you’re beautiful.” He leaned down, his nose nudging your cheek. “And I think about you a thousand times a day.”

“Only a thousand? I bet Peteyr thinks about me—”

“Shh.” He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. His hand gently pressed against your mouth. “No more talk about Peteyr. I need to get that name off your lips.”

You stared up at him, going still. This was how your relationship had always been, and the two of you were damn good at it — joking and teasing, not being serious.

But Lucien’s eyes were utterly serious as he gazed into yours. His hand moved from your mouth, inching up to your hair. To one of the flowers you’d pinned within the strands.

He plucked it out gently, brushing it over your cheek. Your lips. All you could do was watch. 

“It’s not the moon on a string. Not a bouquet of weeds.” He tucked the flower behind your ear. “But it’s a pretty flower. Like you.”

You thought his words may have melted you into the grass. You were nothing but weightless elation as you threaded your fingers through his hair, resting your hand on the back of his head. Lo and behold, the strands were as soft as they looked. Softer, even.

“So?” Lucien murmured, his lips brushing yours. “Have I earned myself a kiss?”

“A kiss.” You breathed. “And whatever else you want.”

He held your gaze for a moment longer, before he finally closed the gap, sliding his lips over yours. That berry taste filled your mouth as he slid his tongue in, and his hand moved down to rest on your hip. 

It was everything you’d imagined and more. You became breathless, floating, your mind emptying of all thoughts as your bodies moved together. Items of clothing were torn off and discarded, and it wasn’t long before you and Lucien were skin-to-skin in the grass.

The first slide of him entering you had you throwing your head back on a gasp, and you thought you may cease to exist then and there. Every thrust was like poetry in your body, your veins, and it overwhelmed you until you were nothing but raw, splintering pleasure with spring daylight shining on your skin. 

That daylight seemed to enclose the two of you in a glow when Lucien’s control eventually snapped, his movements inside you becoming sloppy. And as he came, breathing your name against your sweat-slick neck, you realised you would never need a bouquet of wildflowers or the moon on a string — or anything else from him. There was nothing he could give you that would ever come close to how he, his existence, his light and his life, made you feel.

So long as you just had him, you’d be happy. And you’d be damn well content to spend every Calanmai in the same way.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Lucien tag list: @brekkershadowsinger @sillycrownlady @ruler-of-hades @lectoradefics @lucyysthings @littlemoonashes @janzquu @carmelalikestoread @cathyac @tasha2627 @elkessecretplace @inkyvelvet @acourtofthought @zazite95 @antisocialcookie16 @sehalpha25 @fuckthatfeeling

General tag list: @angrymilfs @lunaralaraspace @maddithefangirl @brekkershadowsinger @wandas-dream @his-sweet-nightmare @kennedy-brooke @chocolatecakelargeshake @daily-dose-of-sass @missaddamsworld @reiincarnatiion @linduzmunna @leeknows-wife @nightcourtwritings @ann-writes-universes @cosmic-whispers @simplefan-638 @lucyysthings @judig92 @shannonsaid @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @iangelofmusic @baybay123455 @poisonousgirlie @kuraikei @sweetandsourwrites @clarkie-carmody-blog @myheartsalwayswithyou @lavenderdreams22 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @sadiebluewin @comfortpotato @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofchaosandmess @marina468 @123345566 @gmey11 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @cloverrover @millsxthrills @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @gamarancianne @rachelnicolee

[yanderambling]

concept: Handservant!Yandere(gn) x Royal!Reader(gn)

words: ~600

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, stalking, food tampering, manipulation

Laramie has been living in the castle (walls) for nearly a decade now, but they were only hired as your attendant about a year ago.

It was a chance encounter, really. Many of your handmaidens had suddenly fallen ill and you needed interim staff, they just happened to be passing through town looking for work.

They seemed very passionate about "honoring their royal highness", to an arguably worrying degree, but you had this strange sense that you could trust them. Something about them almost felt downright familiar.

You had your security check their records and they were completely spotless (like, completely), so finally you agreed to hire them on a trial period.

Despite their relative unfamiliarity (as far as you can know), they quickly made themself a permanent fixture in your daily life. By this point, their shadow in your periphery is as natural as your own nose.

As the esteemed ruler of your kingdom, you used to have a whole fleet of servants on your call, ready to meet your every need and whim; some to dress you in the morning, some to accompany you throughout the castle, some to run your errands, some to bathe you at night- but almost immediately upon their hiring, Laramie proved themself more than capable of handling all those things and more by themself- and with an unmatched enthusiasm.

They instantly took to the job with remarkable attentiveness and skill; they take such care when removing your clothes, movements measured and even reverent (it took months of exposure therapy before they could even get near you without breaking down into a shuddering mess- good thing you were asleep for those encounters, how embarrassed they would have been to be seen by you in that state!), they worked with a singleminded concentration and didn't hesitate to do away with a piece that they felt was too worn or soiled, (throw it out? and risk somebody defiling your precious garments? no, no, they'll just bring it back to their bedchamber and "take care of it" there, don't worry!).

They showed initiative in other regards too, like pestering your council for increased security around the castle (you never know what kind of low-lifes could exploit your weak spots to sneak inside and bring harm upon their beloved majesty! how did they know about those weak spots? well, they were just being diligent for the sake of their darling ruler!), and insisting on making all your meals themself, for safety of course (you didn’t mind because they turned out to be a magnificent cook, it could be thanks to all the time spent studying your preferences in secret, but they really think it's because you can taste their spit love!).

Once you hired them, you truly wanted for nothing- it's like they know what you're thinking before you do!

They consistently have your favorite foods prepared just when you start feeling peckish, they draw the most perfect baths (and clean you so thoroughly!), they somehow always have your sheets warm when they help you into bed at night (you always relax into them with a subtle but wonderfully satisfied sound, it must be their scent comforting you, it’s why they left it there after all), they're incredible at massaging the tension from your body after a long day (as long as they keep their hands functioning and their drool in their mouth)- you don’t know how you got so lucky, to have such a meticulous and talented servant at your constant disposal!

It wasn’t easy for Laramie to make themself so indispensable, but it’s nothing compared to the lengths they're truly willing to go for you.

They worked hard to be by your side, and they'll do anything they must to stay here.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

[yerrenica]

⋯ JAHA LEE x READER | go to hell (affectionately)

⬦ info; fem reader (dom), bickering, whipped jaha, the reader is stealthier than jaha could ever hope to be, they're both lowkey emotionally constipated, begging, grinding, blue balling jaha real, reject canon embrace cringe.

⬦ wc; 2.5k

Jaha Lee is an adult. He has a job, even if unconventional. He has subordinates, even if most of them are incompetent. He even pays with his own money, sometimes. And still, despite all of that, his frontal lobe seems to not have developed enough to know that killing people at 10 p.m. will make him stay up all night.

That's how he finds himself tossing and turning in his bed, burying himself deeper and deeper into his blankets, excitement buzzing in his veins making it impossible to get some needed sleep.  

Normally, Jaha is the type of person who goes down quickly and can sleep through a tornado if he wants to. That's what having too many enemies to count and spending most of your childhood years and all your adult life on the edge does to you - you learn to fall and stay asleep wherever, no matter how uncomfortable the place is because that might be the last time you get to get some rest in a long, long time.

The officer of shining light drove that point home just before Jaha fell off that forsaken cliff.

As he turns for the one-hundredth time in the past ten minutes, the sound of very light footsteps (almost as though the person did not wish for Jaha to know of their arrival) startles him, and his body immediately tenses up. Trying to get murdered from time to time is part of his job description, so it's not unusual to have people try to sneak up on him. However, he doesn't usually deal with assassins on the Black Rabbit clan's soil. The many squads patrolling the streets stop them before they have a sliver of a chance to get close to Jaha's or the Generals' quarters.

He closes his eyes and strains his ears, remaining as still as possible to hear what's going on. The walls are relatively thick, so the sound is muffled, but as soon as he hears the exasperated sigh on the other side of the door, he smiles and lets himself relax once more.

There's only one person who would be so brazen as to step foot anywhere near Jaha's quarters and then sigh with so little care and so much annoyance.

It's weird that [Y/N] is visiting at the wee hours of the night, but maybe she's forgotten something in his room or has finally decided to keep her word and murder Jaha like she has promised to do many times. Just to see what [Y/N] does when unsupervised, Jaha settles down and pretends to be fast asleep.

His bedroom door creaks open, and there's a soft sound of feet tiptoeing around the room. Jaha feels a hand pushing his fringe out of the way, and a pair of lips leaving a kiss on his forehead. It's such an innocent, tender touch, and it's so foreign that he has to bite his tongue and muster all his willpower not to make a sound that alerts [Y/N] that he's awake.

The mattress dips on the opposite side to where he's lying down, and he feels a warm weight settling against his chest. The woman settles down, lets out a contented sigh and plants a kiss on Jaha's chest, right next to where his heart is, with an easiness that seems practised like it's not the first time she's doing this.

And it's then and there when Jaha realizes that the woman's night escapades aren't uncommon and they're probably the reason why sometimes he wakes up with the familiar scent of lavender melon clinging to his skin, even though he's slept by himself (or so he thought) and with freshly washed sheets.

It didn't happen often, though, only after the nights when Jaha was too far gone, when the weight of his blade felt light, and the lives lost to it insignificant beyond measure.

It might be because Jaha is a bit enamoured with this woman, but the thought of [Y/N] sneaking into his bedroom just to sleep next to him and then leaving before sunrise just so she doesn't have to be embarrassed about it is painfully endearing.

[Y/N] mutters something in another language under her breath, and it's the first time Jaha has actively regretted not paying more attention to the foreigners who visited his inn back when he was an errand boy. Weirdly, it doesn't sound like an insult, but it also doesn't sound like the confession of undying love that Jaha would like to hear.

Well, there's only one way to find out what the woman said.

He wraps his arms around [Y/N]'s waist, and before she can react, Jaha flips them around so he's hovering on top of the woman. [Y/N] lets out a surprised yelp, and it's music to Jaha's ears.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." [Y/N] snaps too quickly for it to be nothing. "Let me go."

"No." Jaha singsongs, and he leans down to kiss the woman, but the other turns her head at the last second. Jaha settles on kissing her cheek. "It's rude to speak a language I can't understand and then not tell me what you said."

"I said let me go, you brute." [Y/N] repeats, turning her head to glare at Jaha. There's a beat of silence, and when she sees that the taller man isn't moving, she crocks an eyebrow. "Are you deaf?"

"You can already stop pretending you don't like me, you know?"

"Who says I'm pretending?"

"It's very hard to believe you don't like me at least a little bit when you sneak into my room in the middle of the night to cuddle me." Jaha chuckles, and just to drive the point home he leans in again, this time brushing their lips together.

[Y/N] purses her lips but doesn't say anything, so he keeps going. "You have a key to my room." A pause. "And a drawer full of your clothes here. We're basically dat—"

"Okay, shut up, I get it." The woman interrupts, her voice going slightly louder to block Jaha's words. Of course, she doesn't want to hear the word dating. Of course.

Jaha decides to be the bigger person, literally and metaphorically, and rolls onto his side, dragging [Y/N] with him so they're lying down face to face. He takes a moment to properly look at the other and only then notices the dark circles under her eyes and the way that she's blinking like she's fighting to stay awake. She looks exhausted.

"Hard day?"

"Assassins have been up my ass all day." [Y/N] says, and she doesn't explain further, but Jaha doesn't need her to. He understands what it's like to have a target on one's back. "Need to shut down for a bit."

"Stop calling it shutting down; it freaks me out."

"You've been basically fucking a walking assassin magnet for the past however many months, Jaha. Too late to be freaked out now."

Jaha scrunches his nose. "However many months", he thinks.

It's been seven months since we fucked for the first time and at least four since I realized that knowing the weirdly specific way in which you like your tea in the morning and spending my days off either pestering you until you pay attention to me or thinking about you may indicate that we are a bit more than associates with benefits, but we both seem to be deathly allergic to the word lovers and to any conversation regarding feelings and it's driving me insane.

But he's not dumb (or perhaps brave) enough to say that out loud. So he tugs on [Y/N] to bring her closer and buries his face into the other's hair. "Rest."

"In peace." The woman finishes with a stern tone. "Hopefully, I never wake up."

"It's sweet that you wish to stay in my arms forever."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I know." Jaha concedes with a tired sigh. "Go to sleep."

There's a brief moment of silence, but [Y/N] then pulls back and looks Jaha in the eye.

"You told me to sleep, so now I can't do it." She argues, and the barely-there pout on her lips makes Jaha want to kiss her more than he's wanted anything in his life.

"It's a pride thing." She helpfully explains when she sees the dumbfounded expression on Jaha's face.

"Then stop being stubborn."

"Never."

The ravenette dramatically sighs in defeat and brings a hand to massage the side of his head. "You're going to do the opposite of what I ask you to just to be difficult, correct?"

"Correct."

"So how about..." Jaha starts, and he taps a finger to his lips like he's thinking. "You don't kiss me?"

"You're fucking dumb if you think I'm going to fall for that." The woman says, and she closes her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath like she's trying really hard not to hit Jaha over the head with a blunt object. "I can't believe you managed to become a clan leader. One would imagine you need more than one brain cell to be capable enough."

"One would also imagine that you need to be taller than three inches, but here we are."

He's barely finished speaking when the woman is already barking out a reply. "I'm going to kill you while you sleep."

"I'd love to see you try." Jaha chuckles, and there's something about the fact that the woman would indeed have a chance at besting him in a fight that makes him feel giddy. "Don't do it while I'm asleep though, I want to enjoy it."

"You're a fucking weirdo."

"I'm your fucking weirdo."

[Y/N] only rolls her eyes and huffs, and Jaha takes the opportunity to shove one of his hands under the woman's shirt. He's met with warm, soft skin, and he lets his fingers travel across [Y/N]'s taut stomach until he reaches the waistband of her pants. He hooks his fingers on the fabric, silently asking for permission.

"For fuck's sake, Jaha..." The woman whispers with irritation lacing her tone, but she leans way too much into the touch for someone who's complaining about it. "You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

He unhooks his fingers from the fabric and lets his hand wander to grab [Y/N]'s ass. He squeezes, relishing in the way it makes the other squirm. As [Y/N] lets out a small gasp, Jaha leans in and bites her lower lip, gaining him a small whine. The ravenette almost smiles into the kiss, because [Y/N] might whine and complain, but she always responds so easily to his touch.

Without breaking the kiss, [Y/N] pushes him onto his back and climbs on Jaha's lap. She pulls back ever so slightly, and Jaha feels one of her hands grab his face. She forces his mouth open by pressing a thumb to his lower lip, and Jaha goes pliant under her touch, the only thought that runs through his head being, "Please spit in my mouth, please, please, please."

Instead, like she's reading Jaha's mind and refuses to give him what he wants, the woman takes her fingers out, leans in and shoves her tongue inside Jaha's mouth.

Jaha's mind is half-hazed as he sucks on the other's tongue like his life depends on it, and there's a buzz in his veins that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of murdering he's done that day. He holds [Y/N]'s hips in place and grinds up into her, managing to get a choked-out moan from her.

[Y/N] leans back, the moonlight coming from the window hitting her just right, and Jaha gets a view that he wants to keep in his memory forever - [Y/N]'s cheeks have a rosy flush to them, her lips are spit-slick and bitten red. The familiar sensation of wanting to wreck and be wrecked in return starts to bubble up under Jaha's skin.

Instead of taking Jaha's mouth again, [Y/N] blinks a few times and yawns, and it's a bit of a blow to Jaha's ego. The ravenette almost whines when [Y/N] leans back and props herself up on her knees, lessening the pressure from the one place where Jaha so desperately needs it. She takes both of Jaha's hands off her thighs, leaves them to rest on top of Jaha's clothed crotch, taps the back twice, like saying there you go, and clumsily climbs off of him.

Jaha's mouth falls open. "You're going to leave me like this?"

"Yes? I'm tired." The woman deadpans, and she shuffles to lie on her side, her back to Jaha. "You're a big boy, you can take care of yourself."

His dick twitches at the words big boy, and he looks down at the problem at hand. He realistically could take care of it, jerk himself off and call it a day, but what's the point if it's not her making him cum?

"You're really going to blue ball me?" He huffs as he lamely pulls on the fabric of his pants to release some of the pressure. It does nothing to help.

"You blue balled yourself."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Life doesn't make sense sometimes, Jaha." [Y/N] argues, and she dismissively waves a hand around. "Grow up."

Seeing that he's not getting any, Jaha lies back down on the pillow with a defeated sigh - it already smells like [Y/N], and that small fact shouldn't squeeze his heart the way it does. He takes a few deep breaths, letting his heartbeat go back to normal, and makes a mental note to make [Y/N] take care of all this pent-up frustration the next time he has her on his bed.

"To be honest, it's not the first time I've had to talk myself out of a boner because of you." He confesses with such nonchalance, eyes fixed on the back of [Y/N]'s head. "So I have practice."

[Y/N] turns her head, and even in the dim light, Jaha can see the furrowing of her eyebrows. He reaches a hand to smooth it out and considers it a step in the right direction when he's not pushed away or gets some of his fingers bitten off.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well—" Jaha helpfully starts, but the woman decides she doesn't actually want to hear about all the ways Jaha's so pathetically whipped for her, and stops him. "Actually, never mind. Don't even tell me."

Jaha unceremoniously hums. "I thought you wanted to know?"

She pauses for a moment and lets out a scoff that sounds way too much like a laugh. Proudly, Jaha makes a mental note of adding "making [Y/N] laugh when she's in such a bad mood" to his list of personal accomplishments.

"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep."

Jaha knows that if he asks for a goodnight kiss, he will get either a zap or a knee to his crotch, so he takes it upon himself to reach two fingers and delicately lift [Y/N]'s chin. He leans in, taking his time to kiss the woman properly without the heat of their previous kiss. And maybe he's hallucinating, maybe he's been awake for too long, but he can feel [Y/N] melt at the touch. He pulls back with a last chaste peck and smiles at the woman in his arms.

"Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Go to hell, Jaha."

Jaha chuckles, and just because he can get away with it, he plants a kiss on [Y/N]'s forehead. "I'll see you there."

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. this is just 2.5k words of them bickering and me projecting. instead of brain there is only jaha.

[0hmyg0th]

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲, #𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 ★ ( modern au! headcannon )

★. . . introducing a new series and a new fandom 𓆩♡𓆪 this is a modern alternative universe of a court of throns and roses. this is only a headcanon! i'm not sure if i'm going to make this into a drabble. we'll see how this goes :) ★ . . . synopsis ⸻ you accidentally throw one to many parties a few... many times and now all of a sudden your landlord is kicking you out. who knew!? and on that unlucky day your angel from above found a "roommate needed" poster on one of the bullent board at school. desperate times calls for desperate measures. who knew this day and every single day after that would turn into the most luckest days in your life. 𓆩♡𓆪 ★ . . . note ⸻ female!blackreader, "the inner cirlce" will only consist of rhys, cassian, azriel for now and mor is not related to rhys in any shape or form.

it's been 3 months since the boys ⸻ ( not azriel apparently ) opened their hearts and their homes to you! and you still couldn't believe how things drastically changed, like you almost found a box to live in! Basically. but in all seriousness, you were extremely grateful. you didn't know where you were gonna end up 3 months ago so now, you carried nothing but gratitude in your heart.

however, living with three grown men can be a hassle and sometimes it can be overwheleming. with their scents suffocating you with every step they took around you and oh! did i mention that they are bigggg like fuck! with their muscle straining against their shirts and sometimes you would get caught staring at them; moslty rhys. but in all honselty it wasn't your fault!, like they should as least put on a shirt once or twice when you are around the house.

which brings up the topic of: ground rules you felt like yall needed some especially after the countless of times the boys would walk in on you changing or walking in on them. so it was perfect time to bring up this conversation

"honey, i'm home" cassian sang the words, with rhys snickering in the back and if you listen real close you can hear the huffs and grunts of azirel.

"hello, boys" you purred, you rose to your heels; trying carefully not to ruin your freshly panited nails. "i need to talk to yall." you stated clamly. the three tall giants gazed over you, azirel was puzzle, rhys show signs of concern and cassian just stuffed his big mouth with trail mix while the crumbles dropped periodically onto the shiny hardwodden floor.

you leaned back onto the kitchen counter, supporting yourself by your elbows. the small movemnet caused your chest to rise towards the celling and with your relaxed posture made the boys feel at ease. all three of them are insanely attractive that it even hurts to look at them.

rhys sat on the arm chair with his legs spreading wide as he steadied himself on it. your eyes didn't faltered, you didn't look down there you told yourself  it was a trap to look there and oh boy there were countless of times where rhys caught you looking.

cassian sat on the edge of the cushions with his elbows perched on his kness.

Azriel standing the farthest away from you and the boys. brooding and letting the shadows of his bedroom engulfed him as he leaned against his doorway.

"so.." you trailed, and they watched intensively. your eyes dropping to rhys to your dried toes. they let you gather your thoughts, “We need to lay some ground rules, or like at least mention it"  The invisible weight dropped off your shoulder, and so did they.

“oh, that's not so bad. you had me worried" cassian confessed. they all agreed in union.

you laughed, “How do feel about me bringing in guys over"  You swallowed. your eyes darted to Rhys, whose expression was shocked to Cassain who tried to hide his smile and Azriel looked puzzled. as if,  you looked like the type to never have a boyfriend or even mention a boy before.

 you felt offended, "well don't look so fucking shocked" you spit out. rhys inhaled deeply as his mouth began to move, "no no, i-its just-

"we don't mind"

your eyes landed on Cassain after he cut off Rhys. you locked eyes on him and somehow he had you under his spell, he was so easy to talk to, and by easy you meant; all he had to do was look at you, and then all of sudden your lips were moving and he's giving you nothing but warmth.

"good, cuz-

"no overnight stays." azriel stated firmly. he locked eyes with you.  holding you into his stare, like some sort type of competion.

 you pushed yourself of the counter and nodded your head in agrument.  "of course, this isn't a bed and breakfast. they leave before the sun comes up" you reply quickly. not backing down from he's intimate stare

"just keep the ...noise down" rhys mutters. you would of thought that you guys was talking about the bird and the bees in front of yall parents.  like im pretty sure they bring in girls here all the time, well.. actually you haven't see that or you haven't even seen them with a girl in the first place. and you are 100% sure that their asses is not celibate.

it kinda makes you wonder a bit.."so um what about you guys ?" you curled you lip behind you teeth. rhys drly chuckled, he turned around to face cassian and azriel. which made you even more curious to know their sexual relations. i mean, its none of your business but at the same time you can't help to wonder. like do they share women secretly? or are they embrassed to bring with them around because you're here. 

"uh, let's refocus. any more rules you got sweetheart?" your attention left rhys's who didn't stop staring to cassian who cheeks stained a pinkish color. you rasied your eyebrows, oh yeah they are definitely hiding something. and you have every intentions on finding out what. 

but for now you continue with your ground rules,

number one: one night stands leave before breakfast 

number two: knock, always knock. 

number three: no snooping. ( az looked at you when he said that )

number four: help with grocery, dishes, cooking etc. ( duh ) 

number five: split household chores/clean after yourselves ( the boys are clean people for the most part but just in case )

number six: no being half naked or naked in the presence of eachother ( very important!!) 

⸻ you know, you thought living with three full grown men would have cause you to pull out your hair in distress but now with ground rules in place you wouldn't mind living here full time. instead of a temporary stay, like you planned in the beginning. 

author's note: i wanted to write more but tumblr got this thing about can't go over 4000 thousands word count so i hope yall enjoy this!

comment and rebloging is appreciated not required :)

[wisteriaiswriting]

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

Prompt: 2

Words: 915

Ever since Yoru gained his abilities he’s learned how quick he had to be. As his abilities didn’t last forever, although they could be counted as one of the slower ones. But there's one time he found a way around that problem, and he’s not even sure how he did it.

In your study was a decently sized bright blue… thing? You aren’t even sure what it was, it seemed like a void as anything you dropped in never returned. All you knew was that it belonged to your boyfriend, Kiritani Ryo.

Quickly into your relationship he made it clear his work came before you, while it sounded terrible you knew enough about it that it would be for the best. He hasn’t told you a lot of his line of work but that fact whenever he returns there is always some sort of injury showing up. So you could only assume it’s something dangerous.

Even with his work once a month he managed to make some time for you. On a random weekend he’ll just show up with no warning, though the only time you get one is if something special is happening. Today wasn’t special to him but to you? It was. The weekend he would visit.

The first thing he noticed was the smell that had quickly filled the room, he smelled honey and the faint scent of sugar. They were coming from the kitchen. He followed the smell, rounding the corner to see you, facing away from him and towards something else.

The counter was full of different contents, although he could easily guess what you were up to. The bag of flour was tipped over, laying a thin layer of its fall. Egg shells were scattered around it, with the honey bottle pushed to the back. The measuring spoons were unwashed, covered in the previous ingredients.

“What’s this then?”

Instead of jumping you slowly turned, as the relationship progressed you managed to get used to this. Yoru just showing up anywhere, anytime.

“A cake.”

Stepping aside to show off the cake, already cut into pieces and put into a container. It was one you’ve made before, one he’s enjoyed every time. Letting him walk closer to see the cake but instead he stepped behind you, slowly leaning his weight onto your back.

His hands made their way over your hips, sneaking underneath your pants to sit on your stomach. His chin sitting on your shoulder, face leaning against your own, feeling everything slowly relax. He watched as you finished decorating your other baked goods, his favourites.

Matcha cookies, in many different shapes and sizes. Half topped with matcha icing, those also included a range of toppings sprinkled on. You just finished, not seeing what he had done.

Snatching one of the closest cookies to have a bite. He would’ve gotten away if the crumbs didn’t fall onto you, he didn’t even realize. They fell from your shoulder to the inside of your shirt, eventually falling onto the floor.

“Ryo!”

You knew if he stayed soon enough there would be none left for later. Quickly packing a container while keeping him from having any more. Shoving the container into his hands before letting him go.

He had returned from your place, showing up in an empty hallway. Of which passed by the agent’s kitchen and their living area. Which currently held multiple of said agents, including Phoenix, who caught sight of the man.

“Yoru!”

He didn’t stop his stride, causing Phoenix to follow.

“Oi, Riftwalker slow down man!”

Yoru didn’t listen, eventually Phoenix caught up. Now catching sight of the container tucked underneath his arm, meaning he could see the contents.

“You brought a treat back?”

Before he could be stopped Phoenix had already snatched the container from Yoru, holding it above his head as if using the light to see. Yoru knew what he was doing, keeping it out of his reach. With the height difference there were few ways to get it back.

He chose one which was very in line for Yoru, but something Phoenix somehow didn’t think of. Giving him a single punch to the gut, letting him double over in pain. Snatching the container back before leaving.

“Not for you though.”

That happened almost a month ago, leaving Yoru to forget about the situation quickly. Except Phoenix didn’t, who spilled about it to Gekko. Who, in turn told Reyna, letting it climb up the ranks before reaching Brimstone.

Surprisingly who didn’t get mad, because he understands, weirdly enough. The no fraternization rule was set between agents, he never specifies about civilians. Plus he was young, why not let him have this one thing. But not with them being a complete stranger, he has to be safe right?

While he was on a mission he managed to bring you to the protocol, pulling you into his office. The meeting unknowingly continued until the end of his mission, leading to him entering, planning to review the mission.

Only to see you at the protocol. While that wasn’t the worst that’s happened, what felt like the worst was the fact you were sharing your baking. A small container that held a few slices of cake from that morning.

He quickly pulled you from your chair and hurried to push you out of the office.

“Enjoy the cake old man, cause you’ll never get anymore.”

The hallway was silent after he shut the door.

“Ryo.”

“What?”

“I’m baking him more”

[blissfulstarsfics]

Black and White Chapter 7

Read on AO3

Chapter Rating: E

Pairing: A!A X Female Tav (Non-abusive fic.)

Summary: Tav mulls over her night with Astarion, what it means. Meanwhile, he prepares to host another of his grand parties.

Tags: Astarion hosts an orgy. PIV, anal sex, cunnilingus, fellatio

The sun began rising over the horizon, bathing the master bedroom in a soft glow. Tav stirred under the sheets, a bit disoriented upon waking in unfamiliar surroundings. The ascendant rested peacefully next to her. There was no trace of last night’s nightmare on his relaxed and tranquil visage. Wanting to let him trance undisturbed, Tav thought it best to return to her room, but a strong grip pulled her back.

“Where do you think you’re going, darling?” he groggily asked. His eyes displayed a new possessiveness to them that sent a chill down her spine.

“I was going to go back to my room.” A meek reply. Astarion’s mouth curved into a commanding smile as he held her tight.

“You’ll get up when I say you can get up,” he kissed her brow, “and right now you’re not going anywhere.”

 It was futile to struggle against him. Not only was his might far superior to hers, but her own body sought to undermine her interests. Nestled against him, feeling his skin on hers, she contemplated if all those nights she allowed him to feed on her gave him a measure of control over her. If it did, she wasn’t minding it.

Tav watched over Astarion as he fell back into his reverie for a few more hours. It amused her at how this apex predator could look so dovish and serene in his slumber. Finally, his eyes fluttered awake when the sun rose high enough to shine its light menacingly onto his face. He sat up, groaning bitterly.

“I suppose we should start the day.” He smiled half-heartedly. Tav had wanted to talk with him, but she knew he was needed elsewhere. Most of the preparations should be finished, but there were always last minute flubs that inevitably happened. He would need to take care of those. 

The walk back to her chamber felt different than usual. She felt a myriad of emotions, some good, some bad. What did last night mean? What happens next? Tibbi was already in the room, setting up the wash basin and humming a cheery tune. The spawn was practically skipping from one corner to the next whilst performing her duties.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Tav crossed her arms, smiling lightheartedly. Tibbi jovially nodded. 

“The master gave us permission to enjoy ourselves tonight and I intend to enjoy myself fully!” The maid’s titter took her by surprise. Knowing Astarion, there may be ulterior motives for allowing his spawn to be present. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for him to use them to gather intelligence on his guests.

At the same time, she was considering if this was dangerous. So many red eyed and fanged individuals could raise suspicions. More importantly, Tav never thought Tibbi, the woman who was afraid of her own shadow, to be the type to so boldly attend this type of party. 

She sat Tav in front of the vanity to brush her hair, wearing a bright grin. The bard stared blankly at her reflection, as well as the disembodied brush going through her hair. Her plan for the day was to learn the guest list, put faces to names, but she was far too distracted. Last night was, as he would say, an awful lot of fun. Too much fun, perhaps. Now she was left with a painful yearning to be left screaming as he has his way with her.

Servants brought in the bath just as Tav’s hair was finished being secured in a bun. Watching the tub fill with steaming water made her melancholy, knowing she would soon be washing his scent away.

~~~~~

Chairs were covered, the ballroom floor was cushioned, refreshments were being prepared, and oils were being gathered. Astarion nodded in satisfaction during his inspection. He prided himself on being a gracious host, one who left no guest disappointed. Tonight would be no exception. 

Right as he was about to check that the back rooms were locked (hospitable he may be, that didn’t permit attendees to snoop), a courier arrived with a rectangular velvet box. He traipsed over to the lad, who was being generously tipped by Matteo, and took the package. A quick look inside confirmed he had received what he ordered.

Astarion headed straight for Tav’s room. He knocked on the door and let himself in. She was about to step out of the bath and into an outstretched towel being held by her maid. The women were taken aback at the ascendant’s brashness; coming into a lady’s room with barely any warning. After he set the box down, he took the towel from Tibbi and dismissed her. 

“My lord, your timing is,” Tav trailed off, trying to find the right words. 

“Perfect? Yes, I know.” Astarion sensuously ran the cotton fabric over her body, over her breasts, the curve of her buttocks, between her thighs. Once she was sufficiently dry, he let the towel drop to the floor. “Sit,” he instructed, pointing to the vanity. Raising an eyebrow, she complied, curiosity piqued. 

He opened the box and revealed a masterfully crafted choker of three rows of diamonds set in white gold. The gems sparkled as he placed it on her neck, the clasp making a tiny clink as it fastened. Tav raised a hand to touch the piece, mouth agape.

“Astarion, it’s beautiful! Thank you! What shall I wear with it tonight?” She moved her neck about to catch the jewels in the light.draw

“I think what you’re wearing right now is perfect, but that might draw unwanted attention.” Whether her receiving attention was unwanted for him or her, he did not say. He stared at the two of  them in the mirror. Gods, he loved how they looked together! “You should wear red, darling.”

“Red it is,” she agreed. Later, she would wear red. For now, her robe would do. Astarion sat on the bed across from her and leaned forward with a stern look. There was another reason for his sudden visit; he needed to iron out certain details.

“Tav, I need to tell you my new background. For all my ranting about not knowing your past, I failed to mention my fabricated history. The official story is that Cazador Szarr died unexpectedly in the skirmish with the Absolute without heir. His next of kin was an occasionally seen nephew,” he pointed to himself, “from a distant elvish town who permanently moved to the Gate to continue his work. Poor, poor Uncle Cazador. I’m still in mourning,” he giggled.

“Poor Uncle indeed. So, no one looked into your story? Into Cazador’s family history? Do they know you helped save the city?” Tav rolled her hand, beckoning more information from him. Astarion got up in a huff and moved next to her.

“Please, darling. It was little effort to have documents forged to corroborate everything. As for your other question, they know. I was in the city for a visit when I was abducted by the cult.” Astarion thrusted his chin, his nose stuck in the air.

“I must say, I’m impressed,” she nodded, “For once you remembered that details matter.” Her mocking smile wiped the conceit off his face.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

“Anyway, does this make me the dear friend you made along the way?” She shifted in the chair, one arm draped over the back with her weight resting on one hip.

“Precisely,” he bowed. Astarion stared at the seated woman, wondering if she knew what that pose was doing to him. The panels of her robe had peeled back, exposing the sides of her impeccable breasts. 

Grinning wolfishly, he spun the chair toward him. Tav made no effort to deter him when he tore the robe open and massaged her thighs. Her warm crevice didn’t seem quite ready for him. 

That would need to change. 

Astarion knelt down, threw her legs onto his shoulders, then buried his face between her legs. A few short licks and she was already flowing down his chin, begging for him not to stop, pleading to the gods. 

Luckily for her, he was feeling generous. Assenting to her request, he flicked the tip of her clit with his tongue, sending her squirming under his grasp. Try as she may, she wasn’t getting away from him. She ran her hands through his hair, shuddering from his touch until she arched her back in climax. Astarion mildly bit her inner thigh, losing himself in the titillating flavor of her blood commingled with the scent of her arousal. 

“Tell me, pet, do you want me to fuck you?” he growled in short breaths, freeing his cock from the confines of his trousers. Tav’s lips coiled upward. She slid off the chair to straddle him, but he wouldn’t let her have him just yet. Oh no. She would have to be polite. 

“Ah, ah, ah. I asked you a question. You need to answer. Or will I have to teach you some manners?” Of course, manners weren’t the only thing he was going to teach her. The ascendant poked and prodded her opening with his tip, encouraging her to give in to his demands.

“I want you to fuck me, my lord.” Hearing her say it like that sent a shiver through him. He pulled her onto him, moaning as every inch of him was devoured by her cleft. Astarion gripped her hips, rocking them in unison with his. It didn’t take long for her to move in sync with him. She was catching on quickly, his little lust filled pupil. 

“Good,” he quickened their pace when she tightened around him, “now come for your lord.” Astarion wanted to hear it again; the sound she made when she pulsated all around his erection. Her whole body reacted to him. He held her steady on his lap until she finally obeyed his command. Such a sweet, sweet sound she made. He decided to reward her compliance with his seed inside her hot, dripping cavity.

Amidst the heavy breathing and dizzying rush of dopamine, Tav managed to quip, “I’ll need another bath.” That, he couldn’t deny. He certainly made a mess of her, covered her in sweat, hair disheveled, his seed spilling from her. It made him protective, greedy. 

“Tav,” he stroked her face, “Tonight, I want you to lock yourself in here.” Astarion was beyond caring about being a hypocrite. She was his and he did not want to share. “Oh?” she tilted her head, “Is everything all right?”

“I won’t have anyone see you like this,” he traced his hand over her body, “No one,” he held her tight, “You’re mine. Now, swear to me. Swear you’ll retreat here before events get going.”

“You have my word, I’ll stay safe.” Tav sealed her promise with a kiss.

~~~~~

Eight o’clock came and it was time for the vampire lord and his…Tav didn’t know what to call herself, to receive their visitors. She descended the stairs in a red and silver gown, wearing the gifted choker. Her lips slightly parted when she saw Astarion awaiting her at the bottom in a matching doublet that he left unbuttoned his naval. That’s why he wanted her to wear red.

One by one people poured into the foyer. This was the first time in decades that Tav had played host to a soiree. To say she was nervous was an understatement. She spent the better part of the afternoon refreshing her memory on protocols while getting ready. 

“Soldier!” Karlach was grinning from ear to ear. Neither of them were sure if she would actually come. Either way, they wouldn’t have been surprised. Tav looked to Astarion, who genuinely seemed pleased that she showed up.

“Ah, my fiery friend. Or should I say ‘not so fiery’ friend,” he laughed, “I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight.”

"Listen, Fangs, I spent ten years unable to touch people and I intend to make up for that,” she jabbed his shoulder, “I’ll have most these fuckers worn out before midnight!” She rubbed her hands together, eagerly. 

As they went back and forth, Tav observed the stream of people flowing in, particularly the female attendees. She had no doubt that the majority of them had been conquested by Astarion; that much didn’t surprise her. What did make her heart sink was the fact that the women bore similar features to her. Same hair color, same skin tone, same body type. Was she one of Astarion’s many? The thought crushed her.

“Is that so? Don’t be too-” Astarion trailed off. He cocked his head, looking in the direction of the doorway. Tav snapped out of her thoughts, put her feelings under lock and key, then glanced over to see Lord and Lady Foxworth with Mariana Nightshade.

She leaned over and whispered, “Why did you invite them ?”

“It’s best to keep one’s enemies close, darling. I plan on uncovering the most delicious dirt on him however I can. What I don’t understand is why his wife is here. She’s never attended in the past.” The woman looked uneasy. It was clear she would rather be anywhere than this den of debauchery. Even Astarion seemed uncomfortable.

“Let me handle her,” she patted his arm. 

He gave an approving bow, “Thank you.”

 Guests were ushered into the ballroom, Karlach practically skipped inside, and just before she followed her husband inside, Analee was pulled away by Tav. The poorly masked awkwardness dissolved into relief when she saw her new acquaintance had come to her rescue.

“Miss Tav!” She gripped the bard's hands tightly, “Oh, I hope I’m not keeping you.” While Analee was outwardly being polite, her face vociferated, “Help me!” Tav squeezed her hands gently. Inside the ballroom incense had been lit. Smoke and scent billowed over the disrobing crowd, drifting into the hallway.

“Worry not. I’m not much for, well, this,” Tav waved her hand at the ballroom, “and if I’m judging correctly, neither are you.” The bluntness of her statement made Analee’s mouth quiver. She shook her head, dabbing tears from her eyes.

“Carlo wanted me to come and watch. To watch him-” The wafting smoke caused her to start coughing uncontrollably. Tav put an arm around her, quickly guiding her to the courtyard. 

The night was dry and pleasant. Much easier on the lungs. Tav sat the lady on a stone bench to catch her breath, while she grabbed nearby refreshments.

“This wretched cough!” Analee’s disposition began returning to its sunny nature, “A few tendays ago I was fine and now my lungs just don’t want to fill with air.”

“You said Lord Foxworth wanted you to sit there and watch him romp from person to person? Why would he be so cruel?” Tav may have felt a kindred spirit in Analee, and a sincere desire to help this woman, but she couldn’t deny an opportunity to get that “delicious dirt” Astarion wanted.

“Well, I may have made him angry,” she shrugged, “I’m sure you know that he and Lord Astarion are in a bidding war and he’s upset that I don’t support his ideas for the Lower City,” Analee became quite serious, “It’s just wrong! Building housing units in order to drain the pockets of the less fortunate? It’s immoral and unsustainable! He’s lost his sense of noblesse oblige.”

Something about this was key, Tav was sure of it. It may have been that her disapproval stirred basic ire in her husband, causing him to lash out in a power play, as many did, but her intuition told her there was more to this.

Anyway, dear, I’m fine now,” Analee grimaced, “I’m sure you have better things to do than sit and listen to me ramble about my woes.”

“Nonsense,” Tav puffed up, uncorking a bottle of wine, “Lord Astarion wishes for all attendees to be jubilant and if you ‘rambling about your woes’ increases your mood, then we shall do just that. You aren’t getting rid of me whether you like it or not.” 

“He’s lucky to have you.” The lady smiled thoughtfully, “I haven’t known Lord Astarion for long, him being new to the Gate and all, and I know you even less, but he is different around you than he is with those other women.” Tav closed her eyes, remembering the similarities between her and the other ladies.

“He certainly has a type, doesn’t he? It may not be so different,” she sighed. When she opened her eyes, Analee was glaring incredulously at her. Suddenly, she flicked Tav between the eyes. 

~~~~~

Revelries were well underway in the ballroom. Skirts and jackets and pants and tops were all strewn about the hardwood floor. Astarion sat on his throne, stroking the hair of a man whose mouth was firmly around his cock. Everyone partaking of the experience seemed to be enjoying themselves, but Karlach was the one who amused him the most. He observed with glee at her handling of a fellow tiefling under her, being ridden into oblivion, and a halfling on her lap. It was heartwarming, in a way. After being denied for so long, she was able to fully unleash herself. Good for her, he thought.

Three of his spawn indulged in his kindness. Tibbi was on her hands and knees, servicing a man in front and in back. The mage, Zeuril, had Mariana pinned down on the satin cushions. As he was rutting her, he briefly looked up at his master, taking Astarion by surprise. The spawn were never permitted to look upon him directly, not unless they discovered something. He slightly raised his hand in acknowledgement. 

Astarion clutched the man’s hair as he came down his throat. He wasn’t very good at what he was doing, but it gave the vampire time to assess the situation. So far, everything was in order. All gathered before him were filled with reckless abandon, satiating their most base desires as intended.

Two ladies bounced over to him, each tugging at an arm. They began fighting over who was there first, over who would get to fuck him and who would have to wait. 

“Ladies, ladies, no need to fight. There’s enough of me to go around.” He sat them on his lap, a hand in each, relishing in the power he held over them. One finished, then the other. Astarion let them slump into a heap at his feet. 

“Only two, Astarion?” Karlach taunted, pointing at her own pile, “You’ll need three more to catch up to me!”

“I didn’t realize we were keeping score. Very well, if it’s a challenge you want, I accept.” He got up and grabbed the nearest willing participant. Leave it to Karlach to add some extra spice into an already hot scene. Astarion bent the man over and plunged into his backside, torrid and raw. A pair of hands groped him from behind.

“I’m next!” Nurah nibbled on his ear as she made her declaration. Astarion finished his current partner and tossed him aside. He laughed in the young woman’s face, pushing her to the floor. Her mouth flopped around in disbelief.

“I no longer have use for cheap imitations. Find someone else.” He could hear Karlach laughing as he stepped over the humiliated girl. Astarion took two more, a man and a woman, and threw them down.

“Only two?” Karlach shouted. This time she had two halflings, one in each arm, with Tibbi. Astarion pointed at his spawn.

“No,” he ordered. Astarion, true to his nature, wasn’t above using trickery to win.

“Cheater!” She stuck her tongue out. Fortunately for her, with her domineering physique, she had become quite sought after. Once Tibbi left, she soon had a replacement. The rest of the evening proceeded in friendly competition, until incense ran out, signaling the end of the evening. True to her word, Karlach had half the guests worn out and just before midnight. 

Bodies rose from the now sticky floor, going through the equally wet clothing to figure out which garment belonged to whom. They crawled out of the ballroom, leaving Astarion alone with Karlach. He reclined against the wall, satisfied with the night’s outcome. 

“Well, Fangs, I think it was a draw.” 

“A draw. Yes, we’ll call it that.” He would never admit defeat.

She tugged at his shirt, “I noticed you kept this on.”

“I don't let just anyone see the infernal contract carved on my back.” He picked up her clothes, “Too many questions and all that.” She took her clothes with a smile. Karlach wasn’t without sympathy. Those scars were a painful reminder of a time when he felt he was at his lowest.

“Guess that makes me one of the privileged few,” she pounded her chest, “Ugh, I’m beat. The walk home won’t be fun.” There was an implication in her comment, one which Astarion picked up on.

“You can stay here tonight, Karlach.” 

“Yes!” She jumped for joy. Astarion shook his head, shrugging. Exiting the ballroom, he saw a sight he wasn’t expecting, or wanting, to see. Tav was busy seeing the Foxworths off when she should have been safely locked away. She and Lady Foxworth were cackling like hens as her infuriated husband dragged her away. He came up next to her, waving the final stragglers off.

“You swore to me you would lock yourself in your room. Why are you out here?” Astarion maintained a demeanor that was pleasant to the crowd, but also let her know he was displeased. Tav clasped her hands behind her back and gave him a mollifying smile.

“We were locked in the courtyard. Just the two of us and some wine.”

“As long as you were safe.” This was permissible. She was secure, she was within his reach, and that’s all that mattered. Astarion cupped her face in his hands, admiring her elegance. Tav’s fingers lovingly wove with his as he drew her in for a long, tender kiss. 

He yawned loudly, “Tonight was a smashing success, if I do say so myself. We will be having an overnight guest, by the way. Poor Karlach is far too exhausted to make the trip home.”

“Says the one who can barely keep his eyes open. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Darling, I couldn’t agree more.”

Feel free to reblog, like, or comment. I love interacting with everyone. :)

[megmischief]

Elliott x FemReader fluff - Finding out you're pregnant

T RATED

TW: Throwing up.

It had been a long night. You had been tossing and turning since 1am. You couldn't sleep. Nausea was getting the better of you, and you weren't sure why.

"Are you alright, my love?" Elliott rolled over, pulling the bed sheets over you once more. He appeared concerned.

You looked up at him and nuzzled in closer. His scent brought you comfort despite your distress. "Yeah...I'm good. I just haven't been able to sleep all night and I'm just...not feeling right. I've also been peeing all night and I can't get warm..."

Elliott moved down to peck the top of your head. He pulled you into a gentle embrace. "I'm sorry to hear that, dear. Is there anything I can do to help?" Elliott places his forehead on yours to check your temperature. You can't help but feel yourself get hotter as a faint blush appears across your cheeks.

"Um... a bath would be really nice, please. It might help me feel comfortable enough to sleep again." You sat up, putting on your slippers and stretching with your arms up in the air. As you do that, Elliott reaches over to tickle your sides. Elliott knew what he was doing. He knew your sides were ticklish and was trying to bring a smile back to your face.

As you begin to laugh, you feel another wave of nausea approach. You abruptly rip the remaining bed sheets off and run to the toilet.

"Oh my god! Is everything okay?!" Elliott panics, being the drama queen he is.

"Yeah...I'm fine..." You groan as you begin to throw up into the toilet.

Elliott grabs your hair to hold it for you while he rubs your back. "Hey... you have no fever, and you've been peeing a lot. You're complaining of nausea, too..."

You peer up from the toilet bowl; your eyes glassy from throwing up. "Hmm...yeah?"

"My dear, how long has it been since your last period...?" Elliott, as dramatic as he was, he was always observant. That was one of the many things you loved about him. It was this that proved to you he cared about you. He always picked up on things no matter how small.

You shrugged. "I dunno...I think I'm about three weeks late." You replied with a blank, clueless look upon your face.

Elliott laughed at your cluelessness. He always thought that was adorable. "Well, well, well." He continued to rub your back as you began dry heaving once more. "I'm just going to pop to Dr. Harvey's to grab some bits for your nausea. I'll grab some meds to help you sleep, too. Are there any special requests for snacks and drinks?" Elliott stood up and walked to the bathroom door with a small smirk on his face.

You still appeared clueless as to his intentions. Therefore, shook your head. "No, thank you...and you don't need to do that, Smelliott..." 'Smelliott' was a nickname you had been calling him since your second date. He had just arrived back to his beach hut after helping Willy sort out his stock of fish for the shop. Hence, the nickname.

He giggled and walked back over to give you a peck on the cheek. "I inist. I will be back in half an hour or so. I'll run you a bath in the meantime." Elliott began to run you a nice warm bath using your favourite bath bomb for good measure. After he had finished, he helped you in and grabbed you a glass of water. "Right, I'll be back soon."

You grumbled in protest and sunk your face into the bubbles. "Mmm'kay...I love you."

"I love you too." A brief, gentle smile appeared to across his lips as he walked out.

___________________________________________

"I'm back, my dear!" Elliott called as he walked back into your tiny farm cottage.

You were curled up on the sofa trying to get warm. The bath had helped to soothe your nausea. However, you were still tired and uncomfortable. "Hey..." You replied, softly.

Elliott walked over and sat on the floor beside you. He began stroking your hair out of your face. He loved to see you relax as he did this. "So...I've spoken with Dr. Harvey about your symptoms..." Elliott paused, taking time to think about how to form his next sentence. "Harvey sent me back with these." He looks up at you with a somewhat scared and excited expression.

Your eyes widen as you realise what he's holding. "You can't be serious." You were dumbfounded.

"Darling, you are late for your period. You have morning sickness. All signs pointed to this." Elliott places the pregnancy tests in front of you. "Harvey said to do these and let him know the results. Once we know whether or not it's positive, we can go from there." Placing a kiss on your cheek, he helps you to open up the box. He reads through exactly what to do and reads it back to you.

"Hmm...okay...I think I got this..." You were terrified. You never expected yourself to be in this situation. You loved Elliott, but you were never sure about having kids. A sense of panic washes over you as you make your way over to the bathroom. You follow the exact instructions and then place the tests in the sink.

As you emerge from the bathroom, Elliott looks up at you. "You done, my dear?"

"Mhmm..." You knod.

Elliott makes his way over to you, and you both make your way back into the bathroom to wait. Elliott appears uneasy as he sits on the edge of the bath tapping his feet. "This is the longest two minutes of my life." He nervously giggles.

You were pacing around the bathroom. Thoughts were rushing through your head. How would you look after the farm if you were pregnant?

Elliott hops up. "That should be about time. Shall we look?"

You both walk back over to the sink and peer over at the tests. Two positives.

Elliott just stands there stunned. Words usually came easily to him. However, he could no longer find them. You look up at him with a mix of panic and happiness, and Elliott looks back.

"My dear, you have just made me the happiest man alive for the second time!" As he says this, a look of sheer glee spreads across his face as he grabs you into a tight embrace. "Thank you...thank you so much..." He nuzzles into your neck as he begins to cry tears of joy.

"Thank you too...Smelliott..."

[sweaterkittensahoy]

"i didn't want to see you get hurt"

for JackHarding

[Apparently, this prompt needed to be part of my long-simmering A/B/O idea where Chick is from a long, long line of Alphas, and Jack is an Omega who has put up with a lot for not being the right 'type'. Hope you like yearning!]

It's after six when Jack walks into Chick's office. Chick looks up from the mission details he's finalizing and watches as Jack very carefully closes the door behind himself.

He knows, Chick realizes. And he's pissed off.

it's confirmed a moment later when Jack meets his gaze. His face is placid, but his eyes are absolutely burning with anger. His scent gives nothing away, though Chick's smelled the burnt hair undertone of his anger before. It astounds him, even as he knows he's about to get ripped apart, the control Jack keeps on himself.

"Do we need to pretend you don't know why I'm here?" Jack asks, voice very low and very dangerous.

Chick puts down his pen and stands up and doesn't flinch from Jack's gaze. "I didn't want to see you get hurt," he says. "Colonel Jacobson--"

"Shut the fuck up," Jack says. He takes a step forward, then stops short. He holds his jaw tight. Ink and lilies and the cold smell of snow on the wind drapes the room.

Chick fights the urge to breathe it in, to show his pleasure in it. He fights the urge to respond with his own scent. He doesn't want Jack to think he's posturing, not ever but especially not now. He keeps himself loose and lets Jack claim the room.

"Colonel Jacobson," Jack says slowly, "has informed me that he's busy not just tonight or tomorrow or next week or the week after, but for the foreseeable future." He swallows and goes up on his toes for a moment. His hands half-clench. "Because of some words he had with you."

Chick's Alpha instinct screams to walk around his desk and crowd Jack against a wall and take those half-clenched hands and mark them with his scent until Jack's fingers are open and relaxed. Until Jack is up on his toes for the excitement of Chick's touch, not from an instinct to fight and do it well.

"We had words," Chick says. "Did he quote me, or should I quote him?"

Jack's expression gets angrier. His cheeks pink. He flexes his fingers outward and drops off the balls of his feet. "He didn't tell me what you said," he says. "He's a gentleman like that."

"He's no gentleman," Chick replies, and this time when Jack glares, he meets it with his own. "He's a braggart son of a bitch is what he is. I overheard him talking about you, and I didn't like it, so I told him to shove off."

"I'm not yours to claim," Jack snaps.

"It wasn't a claim," Chick gives back just as hard. "Don't insult me by acting like you think I'd do that. You know I won't."

The anger on Jack's face lessens just a little. "Fair," he says, though it sounds like it hurts to admit. But Jack doesn't give ground easily in the best of circumstances. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him if he wasn't going to take you seriously, he'd best walk away before he found out exactly how many people would gladly line up to show him he should have," Chick replies. "And I told him I'd be leading the fucking parade."

There's a long, silent moment. Chick watches Jack hold himself so very tight, and then, in a single breath, the tension is gone, and Jack just looks tired.

"What did he say?" Jack asks, walking over to the couch and sitting down. The burnt hair smell wafts through the room, but it's tinged with sourness. He's angry, but at himself. He thinks he's done something wrong.

Chick takes a moment to compose himself, to tamp down the urge to protect Jack or reassure him. He pours them each a measure of whiskey and brings the glasses over. Makes sure to set Jack's on the coffee table so they don't touch. Makes sure to sit in the chair across from the couch so Jack knows he's speaking to him as an equal, a friend. Not an Alpha trying to care for an Omega, though that is exactly why he's making his decisions so carefully.

Jack picks up the whiskey and holds it in both hands. He leans against the couch looks up at the ceiling, and the long line of his throat looks so inviting that Chick has to look away for a moment.

"Do you want the exact quote?" Chick asks.

"Yes," Jack answers without hesitation.

"I only caught part of it," Chick says. "It was during a break in last week's strategy meetings. You were with the other Air Execs across the room. I heard your name, so I stopped to find out what was being said. Jacobson was bragging to some other Alphas that he was about to..." Chick feels his face twist in disgust. "bag you," he finishes. "Another of the Alphas asked how many points one gets an Omega of your rank, and there was an answer."

Jack cuts a glance to the window, then meets Chick's gaze again. "Points?" he asks. "I was...he..." The burnt hair smell loses its sour note and strengthens. Jack's getting madder. But not at himself. Good, Chick thinks.

"Fucking points," Jack mutters. He takes a drink of his whiskey and stares at the glass. He leans down and thumps it on the table. He drops his head into his hands and breathes deep. "How much was I worth?" he asks, bitter and tired.

Chick pushes out scent without thinking. It's a protective response so sharp he couldn't stop it if he tried, he thinks. But Jack doesn't like to be protected. "Sorry about that," he murmurs, waving his hand to indicate the heavy smell of cedar and black pepper and ginger.

Jack takes another deep breath, then he straightens up and sags back against the couch, eyes closed. "No, it's okay," he says. "I trust you. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do," Chick says.

Jack opens his eyes. He looks blank. "It wasn't right of me to assume the worst just because Jacobson implied your behavior was territorial. That's not fair to you."

"Let's not pretend it's not a bit complicated between us," Chick says. Because it's true. Because he's seen the interest on Jack's face as often as Jack has caught it on his. But Jack doesn't want to be the Omega fucking his Alpha CO, and Chick respects that. Respects Jack. And it's made ignoring the way their scents bleed on each other without either of them trying a little easier. Because it's about showing he respects Jack as he is. "And given my family history--"

"Oh, fuck your family history," Jack spits. He squeezes his eyes closed, looking like he's in pain. "He reminded me of you a little," he says, eyes still shut. "You two, you're similar on the surface."

Chick stares, struck dumb. "What?" he manages.

"Confident but only sometimes cocky. Smart. Openly concerned for your boys." Jack opens his eyes, and he looks wrecked, a desperate and deep wanting taking over his expression. "And I thought I could get all those things from him that I like about you, and I could also get those things from him that I want from you but can't...won't...I don't know. The things I want that make things complicated between us."

Chick leans forward slowly, sets his glass on the table and stares at it. "What are you saying, Jack?"

"You know what I'm saying."

Chick huffs a laugh and looks at him. Swallows hard when Jack meets his eyes and ever so subtly tips his neck to one side the merest fraction. "Jack," Chick whispers. "You walked in here ten minutes ago to tear me up for interfering."

"Because I assumed the worst based on my experiences with other Alphas. Not on my experiences with you."

Chick swallows hard. His Alpha instinct absolutely screaming at that barest hint of Jack's submission in the angle of his neck. Of what he's offering by showing even the smallest bit of throat like this. "I won't--Jack, I won't be a mistake in your history. Do you understand me?"

"Did you get into Jacobson's face because you didn't want to hear an officer being talked about like that or because you didn't want to hear me talked about like that?"

"Both," Chick says. He watches Jack gauge his answer. "More for you personally, but because I respect you, Jack, and at the very least, you deserve that from everyone around you."

"You did it because you respect me? Is that all?"

"I like you," Chick says. "You know that."

"I do," Jack agrees.

Chick nods. "Good. Because I do. More than anyone I've ever met. Truly. You...you're something else, Jack."

Jack looks quietly pleased. The lilies in his scent get a little stronger. Chick has to hold himself very tightly not to respond to that in any way. The Omega floral digging hard at his Alpha instincts, begging for a reply from his own scent.

Jack leans forward and picks up his glass. He downs the rest of the whiskey, then stands up and walks to Chick's chair. Chick stands to meet him. At this angle, Jack's height advantage is very clear. It's not much, but it's obvious. One of the things that's supposed to make him less attractive as an Omega, that he can tower over damn near anyone and even next to Chick, still have two inches on him.

It's never been less attractive to Chick. He's all long, lean lines and sharp eyes. A predator in prey's clothing, he's thought more than once. He's seen other Alpha's turn away, but they're fools, all of them, to miss all the ways Jack is perfect.

"Chick," Jack says.

"Jack," he replies.

Jack stares at him and takes his measure, no doubt sorting through a long list of pros and cons about even showing Chick this much of what he wants. Chick stays still and lets him measure all he wants. Stays loose and open and willing to however Jack wants to handle things.

And Jack finally leans down and presses their cheeks together, then presses his mouth for a single, sweet moment on Chick's scent gland.

And then he tips his neck to the side, open and inviting and unquestionably submissive, and Chick buries his face into Jack's neck and breathes.

"If you want me, Chick, you know what to do," Jack says in his ear.

Chick gets his arms around Jack and holds on tight and sucks a mark right on the gland. Above Jack's collar where everyone will see it. Where they'll know.

He's been claimed, this Omega. The one entirely too many people have overlooked or underestimated or used for some stupid game of points. He's been claimed, and Chick's not letting him go.

[literaryfandomangel]

The Lost Boys - Time After Time

Sequel to The Promise

Chapter One

The following day, I was still reeling from the shock of my father's sudden appearance. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my mother empathetically assisted me in packing my belongings. She was adamant that I only pack the essentials, fearing that my father might unexpectedly whisk me away. I carefully gathered all my relatively new school supplies, placing them in my bag. My mother had the arduous task of going to the school to officially withdraw me from the district, a poignant and burdensome reminder of the upheaval in our lives.

As evening set in, my mom dropped Sam and me off at the Boardwalk for what would be our final outing. After a couple of hours, she returned to pick up Sam but instructed me to take my time. She also cautioned me to be on the lookout for my father, who was insistent that I avoid spending time with my boyfriends.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the boardwalk, I found myself sitting in tender anticipation, waiting for the familiar rumble of their bikes to break the silence of the evening. After what seemed like an eternity, the sound finally reached my ears, sending a bittersweet shiver down my spine. The rumble of the motorcycle stirred a mixture of emotions within me, and as my heart leaped into my throat, I couldn't help but feel a surge of longing and nostalgia wash over me.

David, Dwayne, Paul, and Marko were determined to make the most of our last night together. Despite many popular attractions being closed, they decided to revisit the diner where we had shared a memorable meal months earlier.

As we walked into the café, I noticed that we had a different waitress this time. Despite this change, I felt more confident than before when it came to ordering food. Instead of my usual order - dry toast and a few bites of strawberry - I decided to be more adventurous and ordered a refreshing fruit bowl along with warm oatmeal. This may seem like a small change, but for me, it signified a significant milestone in my journey of recovery since coming to Santa Carla. The fact that I could contemplate eating a light meal without feeling overwhelmed by anxiety was a huge step forward. This progress, though seemingly minor, gave me hope for the future, showing that I was making steady strides toward overcoming the trauma and anxiety that haunted me in the past. 

Marko and Paul tried to infuse some light-heartedness into the evening, especially while we were sharing a meal. However, David remained noticeably quiet, his expression serious, with his hand resting on my thigh. Every so often, he would gently squeeze my thigh; it was unclear whether he was seeking comfort or offering it to me. Meanwhile, Dwayne was uncharacteristically silent, poking at the burger on his plate without saying much.

After we had all finished our meals, we made our way from the Boardwalk. Dwayne kindly insisted on escorting me to his motorcycle, where I gratefully accepted a ride back to the cave with him. As we arrived at their home, we all relaxed and let go of any pretense.

We spent our last evening together in a cozy nest of blankets, finding comfort in each other's presence. The five of us huddled together, sharing gentle and innocent touches. Amidst the warmth, there were bittersweet tears shed as we prepared to part ways. Eventually, it was time for the other four to accompany me back home.

Tonight, as the cool evening air enveloped us, the motorcycles crept along the winding road at a pace that seemed almost reluctant, as if trying to savor every moment. David, cautious as ever, veered off the road a few yards before reaching the driveway, a preemptive measure to avoid any potential encounter with my father. Disembarking from the back of Paul's motorcycle, I took deliberate steps towards Grandpa's house, the familiar scent of the surrounding trees and the distant hum of the night creating an atmosphere of both apprehension and anticipation.

“I don’t want to leave,” I confessed to my boyfriends as we halted on the dirt road. David was quick to frame my cheeks with his gloved hands. 

“We don’t want you to leave either,” David gently made a promise, his voice brimming with emotion. As I locked eyes with him, I saw the depth of his concern and the overflowing love in his pale blue eyes.

“None of us want you to leave, Princess,” Dwayne’s deep timber rumbled through his chest. The five of us were mournful due to the changes that would happen. They were aware of the significance of what this would mean - whereas I was unaware.

The four individuals were insistent on forcibly removing me against my will, demonstrating a refusal to allow me to leave voluntarily. Despite this, they were also aware of my fear of my father. I was concerned that he would take Sam with him instead, causing my mother a great deal of emotional distress.

As if an eternity had passed, though it was just thirty seconds, we found ourselves standing in the driveway. Marko enveloped me in a warm embrace, savoring my scent for what felt like an eternity before releasing me. With a gentle grasp of my chin, he tilted my head back and planted eager, insistent kisses on my lips.

As much as I wanted to hold onto Paul, I could feel him sniffling into my hair. Amidst my tears, I breathed in the distinct scent of Paul, the warmth of his tears mingling with mine. Even though his hair felt like it was closing off my senses, I couldn't bear to let him go. Finally, Paul gently pulled me away just enough for our lips to touch, our emotions intertwining in that brief, poignant moment.

Dwayne acted swiftly, pushing Paul aside as it became evident that he was determined to prevent me from leaving. With a powerful embrace, Dwayne drew me into his chest, his physical prowess unmistakable. The roughness of Dwayne's hand as it gripped the back of my neck was juxtaposed with the tenderness of his touch, gently caressing the sensitive skin beneath my hairline. Moments later, Dwayne pulled back, his kiss exuding desperation. Before parting, he pressed a small, meaningful figurine into my hand.

Finally, it was David's turn. As he approached, I could feel my heart beating faster. He didn't take too long, but the suspense seemed to stretch into eternity. As he wrapped me in his arms, I could feel the warmth of his wool trench coat and the sound of the ticking clocks echoing in the room. The delicate fabric of his coat scraped against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine. After a few heartbeats, David pulled me closer, and I could feel the passion in his embrace, making every moment unforgettable.

“I’ll see you guys around Christmas,” I informed them, tears swimming in my eyes. I backed away, not wanting this moment to end. Mom opened the door when she heard my footsteps on the porch, wrapping me up in her arms.

“Don’t worry guys,” Mom promised in her soft voice. “She’ll write letters and I’ll pass them along.”

“I love you,” every single one of the guys promised, one last fleeting touch before they disappeared into the night. My sobs audible as they disappeared, my heart feeling like it was breaking.

Chapter Two

[thirsty-boba-fett-posts]

i dunno if it'll be a big task for you, but will we ever get a daddy daimyo nsfw alphabet?

I cribbed this alphabet template from @the-coldest-goodbye

I’ve never actually written one of these before but I do love an easy-breezy prompt so let’s gooooo!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You’re a brat. He’s a brat tamer. In fact he’s THE brat tamer. Boba Fett knows that brat taming is a fine art and that good aftercare is essential. The way he sees it, best practice is to punish behavior he wants to extinguish and reward behavior he wants you to repeat. And his rewards are always doled out in equal or greater measure to his punishments. He knows that you need to be held closely, praised in a low, soothing voice, and fed especially rich and delicious foods. If called for, there will be a bath, a message with warm scented oils, or medicated salve.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his broad chest and muscular forearms because you seem especially fond of resting your head on his chest and in his arms after sex.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - Boba Fett is as ass and thighs man. The thicker, the better. He likes a big round booty and thick jiggly thighs. He likes dimpled, supple flesh on a generally meaty girl.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves coming inside of you. He’s quite possessive and knowing that you’re walking around with his cum dripping from between your thighs gives him a sense of ownership.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If you wanted to pursue a romantic or sexual dynamic with Fennec, he would not hesitate to say yes. His relationship with Fennec is platonic, but rooted in a deep sense of trust and understanding. He knows that Fennec would guard your body, mind, and heart. She is the only person with whom he would ever consider sharing you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows. He knows. Boba Fett has been around the Galaxy a time or two and felt the warmth of many beds. He’s grateful that he has so much experience, all the better to pleasure you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It’s a toss up between mating press and having you bent over. On the one hand, he loves being so close to you and watching your face as he pounds you senseless. On the other, he does love himself some backshots.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

There are moments between the two of you that elicit a chuckle from him - sex is sometimes unintentionally funny. He believes that above all, it’s meant to be enjoyed. He does take your pleasure very seriously, but the act itself is a time to be loose and relaxed and vulnerable with each other.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The sarlacc did what sarlaccs are gonna do - digest their prey. Not much of his body hair remains, and what little does is rather fine and downy from integumentary damage. He is unselfconscious about the state of his body hair and enjoys you in whatever state you feel most confident.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

During sex, Boba Fett is at his most vulnerable physically and emotionally. He feels completely at your mercy, especially when he’s inside of you and allowing himself to enjoy the experience of you and your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Now that he has you, he feels no need. Your body feels so much more satisfying than his own hand, and you’re so willing when it comes to sex. Much of the time you’re the one who initiates intimate encounters, and in that regard he likes letting you take the lead.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He genuinely enjoys brat taming because he knows that your wily behavior is just a defense mechanism and that a good hard spanking, some fucking, and some snuggles have a therapeutic affect. He also gets a great deal of satisfaction from restraining you, especially when you’re acting out or being sassy. Restraint is a form of reassurance and he knows that you need reassurance from time to time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the safety of his private chambers, but foreplay can take place anywhere - the throne room, the kitchen, the hangar, his ship…

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any time you seek him out for comfort or affection. Again, he LOVES taming a brat - but when you come to him soft and gooey and needy, he melts.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won’t take you past your limits in terms of pain tolerance. Boba Fett, of all people, knows that pain has a cathartic power, but too much pain is physically and emotionally injurious.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both and he’s quite good at giving. He does strongly prefer to finish inside of you, so oral for him is just a precursor for penetrative sex.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to let you set the pace unless you’ve earned a punishment. In that case, you’ll have only snapping hips and hard, deep thrusts to look forward to.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’ll take a quickie, but he’s not especially partial to quickies. He likes to make sure you’re adequately prepared to take him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s taken enough risks in his time. With you, everything is calculated. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s a fit man who is canonically 41 years old in TBOBF. He can go 2-3 rounds easily but if it’s been a long day, he prefers to keep it to one round.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns a few tools specific to disciplining you - a crop, restraints, ropes - but otherwise he has all the tools he needs on him at all times.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Boba is not unfair, but he does dole out punishment (including orgasm denial) as necessary to teach you to mind your manners.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He talks a lot, often without realizing it, in Basic and Mando’a. It’s more of a stream of consciousness when he’s inside of you - lots of praise, typically. His voice is low and throaty during sex.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has a long list of pet names for you - Princess, Little One, Brat, Porglette, Mesh’la, An’edee n’edeemi (when you’re being a brat)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s THICC but not especially long. Uncut with prominent veins. A respectable 6” when hard, but the thickness of him makes him a challenge.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Bob Fett wants honestly and frankness. He doesn’t mind if you’re shy, but you should always be up front with him. It makes both of your lives easier.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He appreciates a solid 8 hours of sleep, preferably with you in his arms. He has too much to do for poor sleep habits. He wants to stay sharp and that means getting plenty of rest, with sex being the ideal end of a long day.

[tantive404]

Willeia fic idea. Double agent Leia and Tarkin as her handler and lover

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

That sounds…. so cool? 😍 And has a lot of potential! The intrigue, the drama… and of course the ultimate question of how Leia ended up in this position to begin with. Did Tarkin corrupt and manipulate her? And what motivated her to become an imperial agent? I’ll definitely have to write this AU; thank you anon!

Have a snippet as a sample of what is to come:

The Grand Moff drummed his fingers on the table before him, waiting for her response. His most faithful of agents… so promising and skillful in her manners… placed firmly in the ranks of the enemy where she would least be expected.

By all accounts, Princess Leia of Alderaan was the model citizen of the Empire. Youthful, bright eyed and eager to please. Quite a charming young lady, if he did say so himself. He had snatched her away from those treasonous influences of her early years, reshaped her into his image.

He was extraordinarily pleased with the results.

A tone rang at the door, and despite the discipline with which Tarkin typically conducted himself, his heart rate increased at the sound. He knew it could only mean one thing— she had arrived.

He pressed the button to open the door, letting her in. Dressed in a slinky, seductive black dress, she was quite the picture— and the Governor knew she must have worn it for his eyes and his alone.

Despite her girlish appearance, she still made a rather sweet attempt at behaving like a soldier, folding her arms behind her back and twisting her features into a stern scowl.

“Sir,” she reported. “I’ve managed to map the rebels’ latest battle plans. They’re preparing to relocate their base, out of concern that the Empire’s forces are tracking them. The Hoth system… an ice world in some far-off corner of the Outer Rim.”

“Excellent work, agent,” the Grand Moff smiled appraisingly from his seat. “And is there any suspicion directed toward you?”

“None, sir,” she answered— a sense of pride evident in her tone.

Satisfied, Tarkin’s manners relaxed— moving from the stern dignity of a military man to the tender lover Leia knew so well. The Wilhuff whose manners she had come to learn so intimately, the man behind the rank, reserved for her and her alone, in the stolen moments they managed to snatch between missions.

“Come here, Leia,” he whispered, patting his lap. Obedient, she moved toward him, perching herself lightly on his chair and turning to face him. She leaned in and gave him a sharp kiss on the cheek. Savoring his taste… the reassuring scent of linen and lavender which she had been left without for so many long months.

“Well, old man…” she spoke up in that playful, cheeky voice of hers. “Did you miss me while I was away?”

He stroked her hair fondly, his slender fingers entangling themselves in her braids.

“Of course, of course,” he purred. “You know how I worry when my good girl is missing, stranded among those rebel vermin…”

She giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Stars, Wilhuff, I’m not a child; I can handle myself just fine. You shouldn’t underestimate me…”

“Certainly, my pet. Far be it from me to demean the skills of my favorite agent…”

He pressed a kiss to her neck, causing shivers to break out all across Leia’s flesh. Secure in his grasp, she gazed out toward the stars, pondering what strand of fate had led her down this path. What strange incidences had brought them together.

She knew had been a time when they hated each other, when she was always at his throat… that the Leia from back then, so naive and full of hope, would have said she’d die before submitting to him. But that Leia felt like a stranger to her. So far away… as if it were a different galaxy entirely.

She wanted only him. Only him and a measure of peace and order for her people— the security he’d promised her when she first joined forces with him. She would remain safe in his strong arms.

She looked up at him, warm adoration in her eyes.

“Let us adjourn to my chambers,” Wilhuff said. “I know there is a great deal I’ve missed out on in your time away… I want to learn all about it…”

[sweetestofchaos]

TOTW Chapter 4

paring: ot7 x oc!hybrid  rating/genre/au: Teen, Angst, Fluff, Parent AU, Hybrid AU, Non-Idol AU  warnings: Crying, Child Vaccine, Mention of Needles, Doctor’s Visit, Mention of Blood, Namjoon Kisses Someone’s Cheek, Alpaca!Seokjin, Pied-Bellied Shield Tail Snake!Yoongi, Human!Namjoon, Human!Hoseok, Human!Jimin, Human!Taehyung, Kangaroo!Jungkook, Quoll!OC  wc: 6.4K 

"I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s parent’s protection." - Sigmund Freud

a/n: @namjinsmoonchile as always, thank you for being my beta! Huge thank you to @hisunshiine​ for looking over Hobi and Imani’s scene for me!

a/n 2: Bold text is BTS speaking English

taglist: @elliedearest @quirkybtsarmy @vvh0adie

series masterlist 🌻character profiles

previous || next

Hoseok stands alone in his salon staring down at the requested items Jungkook brought home. A wide tooth comb, a detangling brush, a large pack of black rubber bands, a child sized shower cap and a single silk bonnet that Hoseok will have Taehyung resize a little later before bedtime. Pursing his lips, Hoseok scans the labels of shampoos and conditioners, thinking of which would be best to help him keep as much as Imani’s hair as possible. Sadly, Hoseok doesn’t have many clients that like to keep their natural curls. Often coming in for touches up on their straight perms, so he’s a little rusty in the curl department. However, Hoseok is positive that Imani has 3b hair which needs a lot of lightweight hydration. Going over his game plan in his mind, Hoseok grabs a sulfate-free shampoo and finds a deep conditioner that he thinks will work best for Imani.

Later, when Hoseok has some time, he will sit down and order a few products just for Imani to better take care of her hair. Hoseok glances at his supply closet and tries to recall if he still has a manikin head to practice on. He is sure that braiding is just like riding a bike, it’s something that you can’t forget once you learn…but just to be on the safe side, Hoseok would like to study and practice a few styles. Setting up his station, Hoseok grabs a booster seat for Imani to sit on and double checks everything before he shoots Seokjin a text to let him know everything is ready.

While he waits for Seokjin to bring Imani down to the shop, Hoseok scrolls through his Spotify to find the perfect playlist to help Imani relax. Jimin shared with everyone that Imani’s mother was a Broadway singer, so he thinks maybe Imani might like a Broadway playlist. Seokjin’s voice catches his attention and Hoseok sets his phone down.

 The salon is completely closed off from the upper levels, a decision that Yoongi readily agreed to for the safety of his pack. They never knew what strangers were capable of and no one wanted to give Seokjin and Hoseok’s clients access to their home. The elevator is passcode protected and is hidden away in the laundry room for an extra safety measure.

Seokjin walks out from the back of the salon with Imani in his arms, her little face tucked in the crook of his neck as she scents him lightly. Rubbing her back softly, Seokjin smiles weary at Hoseok unsure if this is going to work. Seokjin would like nothing more than to keep all of Imani’s hair, but he cannot fathom how Hoseok will manage it. Seokjin tried and he failed to find Imani’s ears in all the knots and curls. Hoseok smiles and cranes his neck trying to see Imani’s face.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Hoseok tickles Imani’s side and the little girl wiggles in Seokjin’s arms, her body twisting, as she pulls away from Seokjin’s neck with a giggle. “Are you all ready to get that hair washed?” Hoseok smooths a large hand over Imani’s bird nest and the little girl pouts. “Awe.” Hoseok mimics Imani’s pouting lips before he reaches out and carefully takes Imani from Seokjin’s arms. “What's that face for, pretty?”

Imani’s little fists ball the collar of Hoseok’s striped shirt tightly and she whines, “Gonna hurt?”

Hoseok frowns at Imani’s question. As much as he wants to tell her it won’t hurt, he cannot guarantee that, but he can promise to try his best. Hoseok bounces Imani up higher in his arms, holding her better so that they can look each other in the eyes.

“Seokie promises to try his best. Can you trust me, pretty girl?”

Seokjin watches the interaction and folds his hand together, twisting his fingers around as he chews on his bottom lip. Hoseok shoots him a comforting glance and puts his focus back on Imani.

“Jinnie is going to be here the whole time, okay? We can stop if you don’t like it.” Hoseok takes his time as he tries to soothe Imani’s fears. He may not be able to smell her but the worry melting from Seokjin’s face tells Hoseok that his words might have worked. Imani looks at the large sink behind Hoseok and she nods her head giving Hoseok permission to wash her hair.

Hoseok sets Imani down in the booster seat and grabs a tan towel before he drapes it over Imani’s shoulders and clips it together in the front. Grabbing a sage green cape, Hoseok quickly puts that over Imani’s shoulder and fastens it behind her neck to make sure her clothing stays clean and dry. He turns on the water, checking that it’s not too cold or hot before he tilts Imani back. Her head rests snugly against the neck rest and Hoseok grabs his phone, “What music do you like, Imani? Broadway?”

Imani’s eyes glitter at the mention of Broadway and Hoseok smiles, pressing play on the child-friendly playlist he chose. ‘He Lives In You (Reprise)’ from the Lion King starts to play and Imani chirps happily making Hoseok beam in delight. Hoseok quickly pulls an apron over his head and shoves two handfuls of hair clips into one of the pockets before he grabs the wide tooth comb and starts to gently search for Imani’s ears. Hoseok must be extra careful not to get water in the animal ears or hurt them with his comb. Seokjin sits beside Imani and starts to sing along to the song softly making Imani giggle.

The light pressure of the comb and Hoseok fingers makes Imani melt in her seat. She always loved when her mother did her hair. The scalp scratches and ear pats were lovely. Not to mention the scent of all the different products her mother used, they always smelled sweet. Hoseok lets out a small cry of victory as he finds one of Imani’s pitch-black ears and carefully clips the hair away before he searches for the other one. Doing the same thing to the other ear, Hoseok pulls out two small ear caps and places them over Imani’s ears. Imani’s ears twitch from the sudden feeling of plastic on her ears, the little crinkling making it hard to focus on Seokjin’s singing while Hoseok mutters to himself.

Imani mewls lowly and Seokjin grabs her hand, holding onto it gently. His thumb stokes over Imani’s little fingers and Hoseok tests the water one last time. “Okay, pretty girl. I’m going to wet your hair now…” Hoseok lifts the sprayer and eases it over Imani’s head, slowly wetting her hair in sections so that he doesn’t add extra weight to her head.

“Wouldn’t it be better for me to hold her?” Seokjin offers as he eyes Imani’s ears leaning in his direction.

“Let me wash her hair first, Hyungie.” Hoseok smiles softly at Seokjin. “I think she’ll fall asleep halfway through the wash, anyway.” Hoseok’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, watching as Imani fights to keep her eyes open.

Seokjin’s heart pinches at the sight and he can’t help but coo as Imani yawns, a small squeak slipping out towards the end. Setting the sprayer down, Hoseok pumps some detangler into his hand and rubs them together. Keeping his movements in time to the beat of whatever song is playing from the speakers, Hoseok starts to work the detangler into Imani’s hair, starting at the back of her head. Reaching over, Hoseok picks up the detangling brush and gently starts to work out the knots in Imani’s hair. Imani’s fingers flex in Seokjin’s hold and he watches as all the tension on Imani’s body seemingly dissolves with each untangled knot.

Imani blinks slowly, her vision starting to waver as the soothing tug and pull of the brush combined with Hoseok’s fingers make Imani’s skin tingle. Hoseok detangles Imani’s hair, section by section, keeping his eyes on the sleepy little girl in front of him. He steps back for a short moment to change the playlist to something less busy, opting for Disney lullabies. A familiar beat plays, soft and calming before Phil Collins’ voice starts to croon the well-known lyrics of ‘You’ll Be In My Heart’ from Tarzan. Tapping his foot, Hoseok sings along and Seokjin joins in, their voices wrapping Imani in an invisible warm, weighted blanket of overwhelming affection and serenity. Imani yawns once more and she drifts off to sleep with a quiet purr rumbling in her chest.

Seokjin shifts in his seat and pulls a leg up towards his chest while still holding onto Imani’s hand. He rests his chin on his knee and watches her sleeping figure. “How can she be so perfect?” Seokjin whispers, his eyes bright in wonder and Hoseok starts to rinse the detangling cream from Imani’s hair.

“I think you’re just smitten, hyung.”

Seokjin’s ears on top of his head swivel slightly at Hoseok words and Seokjin smiles, “Yeah...I guess I am.”

Hoseok snickers and glances at his phone to check the time, “Hyung…can we reschedule Imani’s appointment? This is going to take a while.”

Seokjin watches as Hoseok starts to shampoo Imani’s hair, taking his time to wash each of the four sections separately and Seokjin agrees, this is going to take a while. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Seokjin takes a minute long video of Hoseok washing Imani’s hair before he sends it to the group chat followed by four heart eye emojis. His, as well as Hoseok’s phone goes off with different emojis that makes Seokjin smile.

Seokjin - We’re gonna be a while

Seokjin - Hobie says to reschedule the appointment

Seokjin watches as many text bubbles pop up before Yoongi is the first to respond with a simple okay.

“What did they say?” Hoseok questions, unable to look at his phone as he washes Imani’s hair.

“Yoongi will have Namjoon reschedule it for tomorrow.”

“Great…now I can really take my time!”

Grabbing the sprayer once again, Hoseok rinses Imani’s hair and starts to brush a deep conditioning mask onto it layer by layer and section by section. Grabbing the detangling brush, Hoseok again starts to detangle Imani’s hair, starting at the ends and going closer to her scalp. Once that’s done, Hoseok does a two-strand twist on the four sections of Imani’s hair.

“How long will that take?” Seokjin watches as Hoseok easily gathers Imani’s hair in his hands and skillfully places it all inside a plastic cap made for hybrids that have ears on top of their heads.

“Give me a hand, hyung?” Hoseok motions towards Imani’s sleeping body and Seokjin is quick to lift her into his arms, making sure not to let her head loll backwards as he walks over to the hooded dryer.

“Given the amount of hair that she has, I’m thinking 45 minutes, give or take a few if Imani doesn’t sit still.”

Seokjin nods his head and sits down in the chair with Imani in his lap. He gently wakes her up and smiles at her pouty lil face. “Hi, pup.” Seokjin nuzzles his nose against Imani’s and hums in delight as wild sunflowers stretch out wide in his heart. “Seokie is going to put a hair dryer on, okay? It won’t be too loud. It’s made for our ears.”

Imani’s lower lip starts to tremble, and Seokjin shushes her while patting her lower back, “You can go back to sleep.” Bringing Imani’s nose to his scent gland, Seokjin pushes out a little more of his lavender scent and Imani’s body relaxes in his arms. “Good girl…that’s my good cria.” Seokjin nods for Hoseok to get the dryer set up and Hoseok moves quickly. Easily placing the flexible hood over Imani’s head, making sure her ears won’t be crushed as he lowers the hood. There are two holes in the hood for Imani’s ears to be comfortable and free from the heat. As Hoseok starts up the dryer, Imani whines and tries to bury her face into Seokjin’s neck, and she starts to fuss when she can’t.

Bringing his hand upward, Seokjin boops Imani on the nose and leaves his wrist by her nose. Imani’s eyes flutter open and her head falls into Seokjin’s hand before she smiles and goes back to sleep. Turning the TV on, Hoseok puts on the k-drama that he knows Seokjin is in the middle of catching up on. He makes sure that the closed captions are on, so that Seokjin can follow in case he can’t hear and starts to clean up the wash station a little bit.

Upstairs in Yoongi’s office, Namjoon sits with a phone pressed to his ear. Having to reschedule Imani’s doctor’s appointment isn’t that big of a deal. One day isn’t going to hurt, but since she is a rare hybrid that is currently in foster care, their wiggle room isn’t much. Namjoon sighs and hangs up, rubbing his temples. From the other side of his desk, Yoongi chuckles, “Welcome to parenthood.” His voice is flat as he stares at Namjoon and Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“Tomorrow at 10 sharp. Do you want me to go?” Namjoon slips his phone into his pocket and stands, looking at Yoongi.

“I’ll go. I know you have a zoom meeting at 9.” Namjoon narrows his eyes and Yoongi smirks. “Not getting out of work that easily, Joon-ah.”

Back in the salon Hoseok offers to get Seokjin something to drink and Seokjin shakes his head, lost in his own world as he pats Imani’s butt in a steady rhythm subconsciously to the beat of whatever song is playing. Hoseok grins to himself and snaps a photo of Seokjin and Imani. He keeps it for himself, choosing not to share it with the group. Imani is small, but in Seokjin’s arms she looks so, so tiny. It makes Hoseok worry about Imani’s upcoming doctor’s appointment. 

Will everything be okay? Will she need shots? Oh, God! What if Imani needs shots? Hoseok feels faint just thinking about it. He hates needles and wherever he gets stabbed always hurts so much worse the day after. Shaking the thought from his head, Hoseok goes to the first floor to grab a few snacks in case Imani or Seokjin get peckish later while they're down in the salon.

The elevator doors open, and Hoseok is greeted with the shouts of Taehyung and Jungkook as they fight over who is winning in Mario Kart. Jimin is in the kitchen making a smoothie and smiles when Hoseok enters.

“How’s it going?” Jimin takes a pause in cutting up some fruit and Hoseok makes a face.

“She has a lot of hair. Thankfully I was able to save it. Only a little came out from detangling, but nothing to worry about.”

“Are you going to trim it?”

“Yeah. I want to give her hair as much of a healthy restart as possible.”

“Smoothie?”

“Na. Do we have any coffee left?”

Jimin points to the coffee machine on the counter and Hoseok sighs in relief seeing that there are a few k cups left of espresso. He cannot wait to down a large, iced Americano. Grabbing himself a huge tumbler, Hoseok fills it halfway with ice before he places it under the nozzle of the machine. Placing a k cup inside and pressing the Americano button, Hoseok grabs some cream from the fridge and pours a small amount into the other side of the machine to make cold foam.

“Being fancy today, huh, hyung?” Jimin jokes and Hoseok rolls his eyes as he puts together his drink, quickly making one for Seokjin as well; making sure to add four tablespoons of sugar to his. “How fast did she fall asleep?”

“I don’t even know, babe.”

Jimin coos as Namjoon walks down the steps and heads right for the duo. “Having any luck?” Namjoon asks as he places a hand on both Jimin and Hoseok’s lower back, pecking their cheeks.

“Once I wash the mask out, I’ll hand dry the hair and trim it before I style it.”

“Oh!” Jimin’s eyes shine with wonder and promise. “What are you going to do?”

Hoseok frowns at Jimin’s question. He didn’t think that far ahead. Now is a good time to look for some idea as to what might work.

“Would you like to help me find a style?” Hoseok offers and Jimin’s whole face lights up, his eyes turning into tight crescent moons from how hard he’s smiling.

“Can’t wait to see what you do, Hobi.” Namjoon kisses Hoseok’s forehead and walks off to see what Taehyung and Jungkook are doing.

Standing together in the kitchen, Jimin and Hoseok scroll through their phones, showing each other different styles that might work for Imani. Jimin shouts in surprise when they show each other the same hair style and Hoseok nods his head impressed. It’s a very simple style but gives a lot of wiggle room if later Imani would like bows or barrettes in it. Hoseok gathers his drink along with Seokjin’s and Jimin loads him up with two containers filled with snacks. Back in the salon, Hoseok smiles seeing that Seokjin is still patting away at Imani’s butt with his eyes closed. His movements are slowed, so Hoseok knows that Seokjin is well on his way to falling asleep.

“Hyung,” Hoseok calls Seokjin and the older male picks his head up. Eyes squinted as he turned his head in Hoseok’s direction. “I made you an Americano.” Hoseok sets the containers down and walks over with Seokjin’s drink in hand. He gives it to him and checks how much time is left on the dryer. Ten minutes won’t hurt. Turning the dryer off, Hoseok scoops Imani into his arms and carries her over to the sink once again. He wakes her up softly and Imani yawns as she rubs at her eyes with a closed fist. “Would you like some juice, pretty girl?” Hoseok asks and Imani nods her head.

Hoseok gives Imani a juice box from the container and is ready if she needs help opening it (she does not). He allows for Imani to finish her drink while he fiddles around with the water temperature again for the sink. Helping Imani lean back, Hoseok rinses her hair and wrings out the extra water before he jumps into trimming her hair. He takes an inch off, happy that Imani’s hair seems to be in much better shape after the hair mask. Taking his time, Hoseok starts to oil her scalp and apply moisturizer to Imani’s damp hair before blow drying it by hand using warm air. While blow drying Imani’s hair, Seokjin gives her a bag of chips and Imani vibrates in her seat happily as she munches away.

“Okay, you ready?” Hoseok asks as he grabs his rat tail comb. “Tell me if I’m pulling too hard, okay?”

Hoseok sections Imani’s hair into three sections, two squares in the front and the back is one large section. Using hair cream, Hoseok slicks down the first section of hair and brushes it into a ponytail that keeps in place with a black rubber band before he quickly braids the hair. He does the same for the other square and tugs the braids to the back of Imani’s head where he brushes the ends into another ponytail that he leaves out in all its curly glory. Grabbing the gel, Hoseok tames Imani’s baby hairs just like he saw in the picture making sure he lays any flyaway hairs down with mousse before he ties three pieces of wrap paper onto Imani’s head making sure her edges are covered.

“Are you done?” Seokjin asks in between a bite of banana chips.

“Once Imani is done with her snack we’ll be done.” Hoseok helps Imani down from the chair and she runs over to Seokjin to see what he’s eating. Hoseok laughs and goes about cleaning up after himself while the other two enjoy their snacks together.

“All done!” Imani shouts as she wipes her mouth the back of her hand and Seokjin tsks his tongue with a frown on his face.

“Napkin, Imani!” Seokjin scolds and Imani hurries over to Hoseok, ignoring Seokjin as he wipes the crumbs from the table into his hand.

Finished with his cleaning, Hoseok lifts Imani into the seat and carefully pulls the wrap paper undone. He tosses them into the trash can underneath his station and smiles at Imani. “Ready to see your hair?”

“Yesh! Is it pwetty?”

A large heart-shaped smile graces Hoseok’s lips, and he turns the chair around to show Imani her new hair style. Imani stares at her reflection with her mouth wide open, her black ears on display on either side of the braids.

“Whoa!” Imani turns her head from side to side trying to see the back of her head and Hoseok holds up a smaller mirror, showing Imani the large ponytail that sits at the base of her head a few inches above the nape of her neck.

“You like it?” Hoseok can’t help but to ask and Imani nods her head excitedly.

“Pwetty!” Imani jumps from the chair into Hoseok’s arms making him laugh and hug her tightly as she wraps her little arms around his neck. “You the bestest!” Hoseok’s face heats up at Imani’s words and Seokjin is sniffling, dabbing his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Imani looks over at Seokjin and grins, “Look it, Jinnie! Look it!”

Sitting in the waiting room of a hospital in the pediatric ward, Yoongi keeps his sunglasses on as he watches Imani sit in Seokjin’s lap while he reads Not So Different by Cyana Riley. It’s one of the five books that Imani packed in her comfort bag that Seokjin insisted on bringing. It’s filled with a soft blanket that the pack has scented, noise canceling headphones, two change of clothes, lollipops, water, and sunglasses, along with basic medicine and band aids. Imani is wearing a cute yellow short sleeve shirt that has white daisies on it with a denim button up cami on top that is styled like overalls if someone just wanted to wear the top half. The top is paired with a simple pair of jeans and yellow rain boots that have white hearts on them. Hoseok made sure to put white ribbons in Imani’s hair too. The medium sized bows make her look so stinking cute!

It was a long night for Yoongi. He put off his workload long enough and stayed up longer to get a decent portion done before sunrise. Anyone can tell with just one look into his eyes. They are normally chestnut brown with black circular pupils but today they are darker with black slits for his pupils. Yoongi isn’t self-conscious about his eyes, but having Imani with him, Yoongi doesn’t want any unwanted attention.

Imani giggles as Seokjin kisses her cheek, tucking her head underneath his chin to hide away from more kisses. Yoongi stares, taking the two of them in before he frowns. Seokjin has fallen into this parenting role so naturally that it makes Yoongi’s heart feel as though someone has ripped it out, dunked it in lava and poured acid on it before shoving it back into his chest. As much as they have always talked about adopting, Yoongi never really thought much of it. Looking at Seokjin with Imani, Yoongi wonders if Seokjin hid his true pain from him and if so for how long? Shaking the thought from his head, Yoongi turns his head at the sound of a door opening in the distance.

“Kim Imani?” A nurse calls out Imani’s name and Yoongi stands up, offering to carry the bag for Seokjin while he follows the nurse with Imani in his arms. “Aren’t you a cutie!” The nurse smiles at Imani, wiggling her fingers in a friendly hello. The nurse leads the family to a room that has large purple and green star stickers on it. They step inside and the nurse motions for Seokjin to set Imani down. “Remove your shoes and hop on up, dear.”

Imani giggles as Seokjin removes her rain boots and sets her down on the scale. The nurse quickly takes down Imani’s weight before she pulls down a metal bar to measure Imani’s height. After the height and weight check, the nurse asks a few questions as Seokjin sets Imani on the patient's bed. He holds Imani’s hand and smiles as Imani answers the nurse’s questions about what kind of hybrid she is, along with her age and favorite color (green). Checking Imani’s blood pressure, the nurse turns her attention to Seokjin and Yoongi.

“Any concerns that you have after Imani shifted? Has she voiced any discomfort?”

“I just want to make sure that she’s okay,” Seokjin scratches lightly behind Imani’s ears as he speaks. “She didn’t shift for about a month in total and at her age…” Seokjin’s face falls at the thought of anything being wrong with Imani and the nurse nods her head understanding.

“I’ll inform Doctor Choi and she will discuss your concerns in more depth. From what I’ve seen so far, Imani is underweight for her height and weight percentage, but that’s to be expected without shifting regularly for proper meals.” The nurse smiles at Imani and grabs her clipboard. “Doctor Choi will be with you shortly to explain the next steps.”

Alone in the room, Yoongi shifts the bag in his lap and sets it onto the floor beside him while Seokjin sits on the bed with Imani.

“Lollipop?” Imani requests looking over at Yoongi and Seokjin chuckles as he shakes his head.

“Be a good girl and you can have a lollipop when we leave.”

Imani pouts at that but nods her head, nonetheless. She fiddles with the bracelet on Seokjin’s wrist and sings a made-up song, filling the room with a scent of an endless field of sunflowers. There is a knock at the door, and it opens three seconds later. A small woman standing around five foot three steps into the room and shuts the door behind her. Yoongi takes notice of the reddish orange tail and when he looks at the woman’s face, he sees two small striped triangles on top of her head. No distinguishing scent is coming from Doctor Choi thanks to the scent blockers and Yoongi is thankful. He isn’t too sure how Imani would react to another hybrid’s scent that she doesn’t know.

Imani sees the doctor and her eyes widen, “Kitty!” Imani is delighted by the sight of the doctor and Seokjin is quick to grab her around her waist before she falls off the bed.

Doctor Choi smiles and sits down on a black stool with wheels. “Hello, Imani! I am a kitty, a red tabby! Neat huh?” Doctor Choi wiggles her tail and Imani giggles as she tries to wiggle her own tail just like the doctor. “Now, I hear you haven’t shifted in a while. You must have been really scared, yeah?”

Imani nods her head slowly at the doctor’s words and scoots closer to Seokjin. “Well, we’re all very happy to see your honey. Can I give you an examination?”

“What that?”

Doctor Choi grins and grabs a few tools from the wall behind herself. She takes her time in explaining everything that she is doing to Imani, using Seokjin as the model first before doing it again on Imani. Yoongi is impressed, he has never seen a doctor with such an open and friendly personality. Doctor Choi looks over Imani’s chart and double checks the notes left behind from the nurse before she turns her attention to Seokjin and Yoongi.

“We’ll have to do a full work up with it being so long in between Imani’s last shift. Looking at the files from her pediatrician, Imani is also due for her fifth dose of DTaP and IPV as well as her second dose of Varicella.”

Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line at the news. He may not know what everything is, but he’s counting a total of three shots so far. Seokjin’s face is a little green, he knew there was a chance of Imani needing shots but not that many. Doctor Choi pats Seokjin’s knee, “Don’t worry, you can hold her while she gets them. We’ll also draw two b-l-o-o-d samples. One from her finger and the other from her forearm.”

Seokjin might just faint. Blood? They want to draw blood from his baby girl? No, no. No. Seokjin doesn’t like the sound of that at all and his scent starts to dampen, mildew starting to come to the surface.

Doctor Choi offers Seokjin a kind smile, she’s been doing this for years. She can understand how scary it all might sound to the parent. “Today there are going to be a lot of tests for Imani. Because of how rare her animal counterpart is, we need to make sure that all our bases are covered and nothing is going on internally.”

“W-what else is there?” Seokjin’s voice is strained as he glances down at Imani who is starting to fuss beside him.

“The basic procedures. A CT scan, a movement, sight, and hearing test. Depending on the results we might need to do more, but these tests are simple and will be stress free for Imani.”

Seokjin doesn’t believe Doctor Choi at all. A CT scan doesn’t sound stress free at all.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Yoongi is quick to dismiss the woman and she leaves the room, giving Imani one last smile. “Hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is firm as he warns Seokjin to rein it in. His scent is starting to make Imani finicky, and it will be harder for everyone to do their jobs.

“Jin-ie?” Imani crawls into Seokjin’s lap and Yoongi watches as Imani wraps her tail around Seokjin’s wrist. Her fresh sunflower scent slowly decaying, and Seokjin is quick to pull himself from his thoughts, his scent heavy and soothing as he forces the lavender to wrap around Imani tightly.

Yoongi watches Seokjin closely as he starts to nuzzle his nose into Imani’s hair, breathing in deeply to drown himself in her scent as he self-soothes. Imani giggles as Seokjin’s puff of air tickles her ears and she buries her face into his neck, nosing at his scent gland.

“One test at a time, Hyung.” Yoongi folds his arms across his chest and blinks slowly behind his sunglasses. “I’m sure they will let you stay by her side the whole time. No one wants to harm Imani or put her through any more stress.”

Seokjin sighs, he knows that. He understands that completely but looking down at the little girl in his arms, Seokjin’s omega is crying. What if she gets scared? What if something goes wrong and they take Imani from him forever? Seokjin tightens his arms around Imani and kisses the top of her head. No. Nothing is wrong, everything will be okay. They will do their tests, the results will come back negative for whatever and they will leave the hospital together, all three of them. There is a soft knock at the door before it opens and the same nurse from before smiles, clearly not able to scent the room since she’s human. Yoongi wonders if it was wise to have her work with them.

“We need Imani to change into a gown, please keep her underwear and socks on.” The nurse offers Seokjin a colorful gown that looks like it will swallow Imani whole. “I’ll give you a few moments before we head to the ENT department.”

The testing goes relatively fast in Yoongi’s opinion. Imani took part in an obstacle course in her human and animal form, played a few games while answering questions and she didn’t waver at having to be separated from Seokjin. Though Yoongi suspects that because Seokjin was within sight the whole time. The only issue they had was when Imani needed to get the CT scan and Seokjin wasn’t allowed to be with her. Yoongi smelt Seokjin’s anxiety as if it were a custom perfume rolling off Seokjin in waves as they waited for the CT scan to be finished. Once that was done, all that was left was for Imani to get her vaccines and blood drawn.

Back in the room, Seokjin sits with Imani in his lap whispering sweet nothing to the small child as he rocks from side to side. He knows what’s coming and he wishes that he could just run away with Imani and never have her feel the pain that is to come.

“Do you need me to hold her?” Yoongi questions and Seokjin’s heart is at war with his mind. He wants to comfort Imani, hold her through whatever pain is sure to be felt, but Seokjin knows the moment he sees those needles he will lash out at the nurse. Silently, Seokjin nods his head, and he nuzzles his nose into Imani’s hair, once again breathing in deep lung fulls of her scent to soothe himself.

“Go to Yoongi, Imani.” Imani stares at Yoongi, her large brown eyes skeptical as her tail tightens around Seokjin’s wrist. Seokjin kisses the top of Imani’s head and rubs her back. “Go on pup. Alpha won’t hurt you.”

Yoongi sighs and removes the sunglasses from his face. He looks Imani right in her eyes and she shrinks back into Seokjin’s chest.

“Imani, come here.” Yoongi’s voice is firm, and he refuses to look away as she tries to curl into Seokjin’s soul. “Now.” Yoongi’s eyes flash a fluorescent yellow and Seokjin’s body tenses as Yoongi’s scent of fresh laundry shifts, smelling like it’s been left out in a thunderstorm. Imani deflates in Seokjin’s arms and slinks down onto the floor with her head down. “Jin-ie just needs to use the bathroom,” Yoongi lies and Seokjin is quick to jump to his feet. A knock at the door catches their attention and Seokjin nibbles on the skin of his bottom lip. “Go.”

The door opens and as the nurse comes in, Seokjin hurries out with a rushed apology. The nurse looks over at Yoongi who is now holding Imani and her eyes widen with a gasp at the sight of his eyes. “Oh!” The nurse’s face warms and she quickly apologies. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were a hybrid as well.”

Yoongi blinks slowly and shifts Imani on his lap, putting her onto his right thigh. “Can you do everything from here or should I move?” Yoongi questions choosing to ignore the ignorant comment from the nurse.

“T-The bed, please. You may still hold her.”

Yoongi secures his hold on Imani and stands, walking the short distance to the bed and sitting down with her back in his lap. Imani is facing outwards with her back pressed into Yoongi’s stomach and chest, her ears twitch and smack him in the face as the nurse pulls three needles from her pocket. Seeing the needles, Imani whimpers and tries to jump from Yoongi’s lap but his hold around her waist is strong.

“Easy, pup.” Yoongi forces his scent down on Imani heavily and Imani’s tail wraps loosely around Yoongi’s slender wrist. “Alpha is here. I’m right here.” Yoongi repeats his words over and over, rubbing the side of his thumb against Imani’s knee as the nurse carefully takes hold of Imani’s left arm and starts to clean the crook of her elbow with an alcohol pad. Imani presses herself flush against Yoongi’s chest, her heart pounding so harshly in her body that Yoongi can feel it from behind. Rancid water and decaying happiness drifts to the surface of Imani’s scent slowly and Yoongi frowns. Using his free hand, Yoongi grabs one of Imani’s hands and starts to drum a beat softly into her palm.

“Imani?” Yoongi’s voice is soft as he calls to the little girl in his lap, shaking like a leaf in a harsh breeze. “Do you wanna build a snowman? Come on, let's go and play!” Yoongi keeps his focus on the sound of Imani’s heart beat but he doesn’t miss the way the nurse freezes at his words. “I never see you anymore. Come out the door. It's like you've gone away!” Yoongi continues to tap the beat into Imani’s hand as he sings the popular song ‘Let It Go’ from that Frozen movie that Jungkook and Hoseok are strangely in love with.

The nurse pricks Imani’s arm with the long needle and Imani hardly feels a thing, completely engrossed with Yoongi’s deep, timbering voice as he sings above her head. Keeping up with the distraction, the nurse easily fills two small glass beakers with Imani’s blood and removes the needle. Cleaning the spot and placing a small smiley face sticker on it. The nurse slides Imani’s gown upwards to reveal the right thigh.

“It gets a little lonely all these empty rooms. Just watching the hours tick by...” Yoongi continues to sing as the nurse cleans Imani’s thigh.

“Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock!” Imani joins in on the singing, giggling as Yoongi makes the clicking sound with his tongue. The nurse gives Imani her vaccination and puts matching band aids over the small wounds.

“All done!” The nurse announces with a large smile. Imani pays the woman no mind as she continues to sing the rest of the song by herself and Yoongi smiles, his eyes lighting up as Imani’s little hand wraps around his thumb tightly. Nodding her head, the nurse gathers some paper from behind her and sets them on the foot of the bed. “These have information of the shots that Imani received as well as what to expect and how to treat any symptoms that might come about. We’re waiting on the test results, so you are free to check out and head home for the day.” The nurse places her hand on the door handle and smiles at Yoongi and Imani. “You both did wonderful today. You’re a good father. Good luck with the adoption, Mister Min.” Twisting the handle, the nurse walks out the room and she isn’t surprised to see Seokjin pacing around in the hallway.

“You can head in now, sir. Imani could use a good snuggle.” 

previous || next

[cricketnationrise]

Hi! Could I get brownstone, 11 pm, Alex for your ficlet fest?💘

sure thing! i hope you like it :D

want your own ficlet? rules here, ends July 31

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

brownstone, 11:00pm

Alex is pulled out of a haze of studying when a warm, heavy weight jumps onto his lap and licks across his face.

“Phflltt, gah, David – not the glasses!” Alex tries to scold, but he’s laughing.

David licks the glasses.

“Alright, alright, your point has been made.” 

David yips excitedly and jumps down, running for the back door. Alex saves his draft, stretches, and follows. He lets David out to run around the yard and it’s a relief, actually, to get some fresh air after so many hours hunched over his laptop. 

When they eventually (after each blade of grass has been freshly sniffed) go back inside, Alex pauses on the threshold of the kitchen. There’s crumbs on the counters, empty cereal and cookie boxes scattered around, dishes everywhere and while the majority are left over from Henry’s latest quiche attempt, more than a few are from Alex’s meal prepping. They normally keep the kitchen neater than this, but between his ramped up class schedule and Henry working on the shelter’s upcoming gala, they’ve both been letting things slide. It’s that time of the night when Alex gets his second (or third or fourth) wind, so he rolls up his sleeves, puts on his music, and gets to work.

He tackles the mess the way he does everything – a veneer of chaos covering a many-stepped plan. He cleans one counter to set up an auxiliary drying rack, starting with the top rack of the clean dishwasher. (There’s always a few mugs that hold a little pool of water on the top, no matter how heated the dry cycle.) He stows pots and measuring cups from the rack next to the sink, making way for more hand-wash only dishes. He breaks down boxes and sorts out the recycling, unloads the bottom rack of the dishwasher and gathers mugs and spoons from around the first floor. A quick reload of the dishwasher and then he can tackle the rest of the dishes with ease. Alex loses himself in the repetitive motions of scrubbing, wiping, rinsing – bopping along easily with his playlist.

Between the music and the running water, he doesn’t hear the front door opening or David’s tags jangling as he runs past. Instead he jumps out of his skin when a pair of strong arms come around him from behind and lock around his waist. The almost-faded scent of linen and fresh grass washes over him, slowing Alex’s heart back to normal and he relaxes into the arms.

“Hello, love,” Henry says, dropping a kiss to his cheek before resting his chin on Alex’s shoulder. “It looks great in here.”

“Thanks, baby. Glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” Henry sighs. “I brought dessert home. From that bakery you like. I figured we both needed a treat tonight, we’ve both been so flat out lately.”

“Stellar. I’m almost done here if you want to get it all ready.”

Henry tightens his grip. “I’m just going to stay right here actually. I’ve been looking forward to this since at least lunchtime, if not earlier.”

Alex smiles to himself at that – more than happy to have his boyfriend draped over him like a particularly heavy hoodie – and keeps washing dishes, humming contentedly.

[wanderlustqueen-writes]

Alice, I always love to see your writing in my dashboard, so for Drunk Drabbles, Vol. 2, I challenge you to 4: Please come back.

Have fun!

Send me a number and I'll write you a drabble - Part 2! Number 4: Please, come back Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Hange Zoë Warnings: SFW. Angst. Additional tags: They/Them pronouns for Hange Zoë Wordcount: 1,1k

The chirping of the birds grew clearer as his mind drifted away from sleep, the rustling of the wind caressing the trees near the window soon joining the morning symphony. Gentle rays of sunlight streamed through the glass and lazily landed on his face, making him see orange through his eyelids.

Levi took a deep breath, bracing himself for the hell that awaited him once he opened his eyes.

But the air that filled his lungs brought in a different scent, one he recognized from his past, from the many mornings he’d woken up next to them. A musky, oily thing he couldn’t, in a million years, mistake for something else. He breathed in again, this time welcoming the aroma he loved so much. His nose nuzzled forward, searching for the messy hair that should be there, eager to feel some of the ends that always stuck out prickling at his skin. He wasn’t disappointed.

His hand fumbled the mattress before him, cautiously, as if to not dissipate the illusion that he was experiencing right now, and his heart skipped a beat when his palm was met by soft, tangible skin. He groped it, marveling at the feeling of the muscles relaxing beneath his touch, the familiar curve of their waist, and the way the sleeping body moved slightly back, trying to adjust itself closer to his, out of pure habit. 

He couldn’t afford to be cautious anymore. Not when every single inch of his body ached and screamed for Hange, every second away from them, pure torture. So he held them, tighter than ever, bringing himself forward so that he was touching them in every way possible. In a perfect world, he would merge into them, the remaining halves of the wings of freedom together forever, but for now, he would make do with having the front of his body completely touching their back, from the hair drowning his face to the calves pushing against his instep. 

For a while, he just lay there, marveling at the feeling of being able to wake up next to the person he cared about the most in the world. When so many good people, deserving of happiness, were wronged by fate, he managed to get the best ending he could hope for. How? How did he get so lucky??

But he wasn’t a lucky guy, was he? History had proven that time after time. Was it all to compensate for his happy ending? Maybe destiny worked like a scale, it could only give happiness if it gave the same measure of sadness.

Don’t think too much about it. A voice, no, an instinct in his mind warned him.

If he got his happy ending, why did this uneventful morning feel so magical to him?

DON’T think about it.

So he let it go, and focused again on the feeling of having Hange in his arms. He was more confident now, so, for the first time, he let his eyelids flutter open.

His eyes were blessed by the sight of Hange’s sleeping form. The silky pajamas moved up and down, following the tranquil rhythm of their breathing. The sun projected over the fair skin, bathing with its light all the marks and scars Levi knew by heart. He’d seen the same scene many times in the past, in the mornings after they came back from an expedition. When grief and relief coexisted in their hearts. He loved watching Hange sleeping, so quiet and peaceful as if they lived in a completely different world, without Titans, without conflicts, poverty, or segregation. The world he knew they were fighting to build. He loved and missed that sight so much. Missed? Why? 

Don’t go there.

Levi remembered how, on those mornings, he had that strange urge to speak. He was never one to talk much, always communicated better through his actions, but lying next to Hange, he struggled to keep the words inside. We don’t have time for this now. He said told himself every time. When this is all over, I’ll say it.

“Hange” Levi whispered against their ear, laying a soft kiss over the shell.

“Yeah?” They answered with a drowsy voice, hands sliding down to Levi’s, to hug him closer. 

“I love you. Let’s live together”

Hange’s body shook as they laughed lightly, and the low rhythmic sound made Levi’s soul fly free. 

“We already live together, dumbass,” they said, playfully. There was a pause, a deep breath, and then their voice came back, serious and heartfelt “I love you too.”

Stubborn tears started prickling his eyes, fighting their way out. How was it possible to feel relief and anguish at the same time? It was good to let out the words that he’d imprisoned for so long. It felt like breathing after holding his breath for too long. But this feeling soon faded in comparison to the way his heart shrunk, crushed by the weight of regret. Regret over what? 

Don’t think about it. 

Being too late?

Stop thinking about it!

Was he? Too late? 

STOP

The ship had sailed?

DON’T!

The plane took off?

*click*

The wave of sorrow that crashed over Levi was so violent he almost threw up. Disordered images of the kids bawling inside of the aircraft attacked him from all sides, like vultures biting off the pieces of his fantasy, their cries bleeding into his ears. It was hard to breathe, the air in his room suddenly thin.

Hange Zoë, 14th commander of the Survey Corps, fulfilled their duty and died a heroic death in battle. They sacrificed themselves for the survival of their comrades. They fought for peace and died to save the world. 

Each of these words cut through Levi’s heart as he mentally repeated them. It was the only way he could cope whenever he had one of these dreams. If he didn’t face reality head-on, it would just become harder and harder. These fantasies weren’t meant to last forever.

Levi liked to think of the dreams as presents from Hange. Like they came down from where they were watching him, to give him a glimpse of what life could have been, or will be, eventually. It was a nice thought, and the pain was part of the deal. The scale of destiny, you can only get happiness if… 

Maybe all miracles come with a price. Maybe Hange was paying for it too, wherever they were. The least he could do was show his gratitude.

“Kuso Megane,” Levi whispered, reluctant eyes glimpsing at the empty mattress before him “thanks for stopping by.” His breath faltered, as hesitant words left his lips “If you’re watching, please, come back.”  _________________________________________ Thank you so much @sixpennydame <3 I love seeing you on my dash as well, and I had loads of fun writing this fic (I don't usually venture into angst, so it was a nice experience ^^)