#might continue this one in another prompt hmmm

[elysianeclipxe]

a lonely bed is a cold bed | enhypen jay

warnings: talk about nightmares, scared reader, boyfriend!jay

genre/au: fluff, maybe a little angst

prompts: "the bed is cold without you" and "i'll see you in my dreams"

word count: 1.1k

summary: nightmares suck, so here comes a sleepy clingy jay to ease your mind

sidenote: happy belated birthday jay!!! i hope you all like reading this and keep loving this man. he deserves so much love and support since we stan respectful men like mr park jongseong. literally just a 10 outta 10, omg i love you. here's part 2 <33

It's one of those nights again where your thoughts are keeping you up right after being roused from another nightmare. Time and time again, it just seems to be happening more often these days. You're tired and just want some needed sleep but no matter how hard you try, those images continue to flash in your mind when you close your eyes. "Guess it's another sleepless night for me," you whisper, slowly slipping out of bed and placing a light kiss on Jay's head before heading downstairs.

You head straight for the fridge to get some milk for your milk and cookies. Classic. Maybe eating something light might help you lull yourself to sleep, if not, then you'll likely read a random book and let boredom hit you.

Man, Jay sure is lucky to be able to sleep. i could be screaming my lungs out and he'd think i was the alarm or something, AHHH I WANNA BE LIKE THAT TOO

"Stupid nightmares and your shitty scenarios that freak me out. Oh come on! Where are the cookies.. right, cupboards!" You pull one of the cupboards open and squint your eyes, hands searching for the cookies you so desperately needed at that moment. Your hand stops moving when the thought pops into your head, "I swear if Jay placed those cookies on the top shelf again, he's gotta stop doing this."

Doing the logical thing, you head over to turn the lights on and– "AHHHHHHHH!! JEEZ JAY!" Figure hunched over and hand over your heart you try to ease your heart after that jumpscare from your own boyfriend. "What in the world are you doing? Last I checked, you were sleeping soundly UPSTAIRS."

Jay, in his adorable sleepy state, walks over to wrap his arms around your waist and lean his head against yours. You return the hug and instantly feel his warmth slowly surrounding you. "Woke up and saw you weren't there. I couldn’t go back to sleep… the bed is cold without you. (yawns) Decided to just look for you." He mumbles into your hair, grabbing your hands to fiddle with your fingers. "Why'd you leave me?"

Your eyes soften at his words.. When it came to Jay, he was quite a quick sleeper, and a heavy one at that. Everyone who knows him knew that when it came to sleep he would not budge and would always take it seriously. Sleep over people was the case sometimes. But for some reason, that case never really applied to you. In fact, he often refused to sleep without you in his arms, he was such a cuddlebug. No con in that though.

"I didn't mean to, I just couldn't fall back to sleep. I'm sorry baby." You pout at him feeling a little bad that he woke up just because of that. But my gosh does your boyfriend look so cute in this half asleep state. Clothes filled with wrinkles, cheek squished against your head, and hair all over the place from moving too much whilst asleep. Would it be so bad to just take a quick picture of him to set as your wallpaper? Hmmm, choices… “I’ll be back in a bit, don't worry. You can go ahead.”

He shakes his head and tightens his hold on you. “Don’ wanna, I’ll wait for you instead.” You try to convince him but every idea is shot down with a shake of his head and a grumble of an annoyed “no”. 

AHHHHHHHHHHH he’s so fricking adorable, what did I do to deserve him 

Even though you knew he would much rather stay awake a whole day with you than sleep without you, it wouldn’t be healthy for him. So, you cave. A sigh leaves your lips, “fine, then let’s head back to bed you big baby.” 

Jay’s head shoots up and he pulls away to look at you, “really?”

“Yes really. I already feel bad for waking you up, I’d rather not have you stay awake any longer because of me.” He grins at you and gently takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with his. He seemed a lot more awake than earlier but you could tell he was still tired. That slow drag of his feet, a few more yawns, and the comfortable silence between you two.

Once both of you reach your bedroom he immediately gets under the blankets awaiting you to join him. But you just look at him with that hesitant look. So he opens his arms and smiles. It’s like he’s telling you to trust him and that you do. He wraps his arms around you once again and stares at you, “wanna talk about it?” Do you? 

I want to, I really want to but I also don’t. It’s not worth thinking about again, I’m sorry

You shake your head and bury your head into his chest, mumbling a “sorry” to him. He chuckles and gently runs his fingers through your hair. “No need to apologise angel, if you don’t wanna talk about it then I’ll respect that.” And he meant that, you just know it.

“Don’ wanna go back to sleep Jay. What if I dream of it again? It’s all I’ve been dreaming about lately.” Jay can feel his heart break as you whimper and shake at the thought of that dream. He feels bad and frowns seeing you cuddle yourself closer to him. What you dreamt of must’ve really scared you.

So he tells you something to put you at ease. The only thing he could think of, although cringey. “I can’t promise that you won’t dream of it again. But if it does happen then I’ll.. I’ll magically appear in your dream and fight it off. I’ll protect you from whatever it is and keep you safe in my arms like how I’m doing right now. That I can promise.” 

You slowly lift your head and stare at him before kissing him. You felt at ease from his words, like he lifted this heavy weight from your shoulders. Of course he knew how to help you, he always did. “Thank you, I mean it.” You whisper against his lips.

You can feel him grin. He tucks your head under his chin and places light kisses on the crown of your head. So full of love, this moment. Just the two of you in bed in the comfort of the other. So pure and it only makes you so grateful to have him as yours.

“Jay?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, angel. Sleep well, and I’ll see you in your dreams.”

Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated <33

© elysianeclipxe. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my content onto other platforms.

[nocturnalghoul]

Okay, I'm gonna work on the prompt from you soon, but to you I'm giving “you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.” with Water!Dew and Mountain. What say you?

Water!Dew my beloved!

I say that you actually get two short little scences because I loved the idea of both Mountain and Dew getting to say it and couldn't pick just one.

Rating: General | ~1.2k total

Below the cut for Scrolling purposes :D

Dew notices that everytime the ghouls go to spend the day by the lake, Mountain never goes any further than waist deep. Everyone else floats out and lounges in and around the deeper depths, leaving the earth ghoul to mostly hang out by himself with occasional check-ins from the pack. 

Mountain never seems upset about this, content to lounge near the shore and let the cool water lick at his legs while he lounges back on the sand, but Dew figures that it has to get a little lonely sometimes.

Dew continues to swim around occasionally stopping to look at Mountain as various members of the pack slowly wade their way deeper and deeper towards the center of the lake. Eventually the earth ghoul is the last one left in the shallows and Dew notices the way his gaze follows the other members of the pack as they settle into their own routines. 

Dew lazily paddles his way over towards Mountain until he catches the earth ghouls eye, getting a warm smile that encourages him to pick up the pace. He is sitting along the bank, just deep enough in the water for it to come about an inch above the earth ghouls navel and looking surprisingly content. 

“Hey droplet, I’m surprised you aren’t out floating with everyone else” Mountain rumbles as Dew grows closer, shifting from swimming to walking through the shallow water and plopping down next to him. 

“Hmmm, I wanted to hang out with you. Do you mind?” Dew asks meekly, suddenly worried he might be ruining Mountain’s quiet. 

“Not at all, come here” Mountain lilts, shifting so open up a space in between his legs. “Come and sit with me for a bit, the company will be nice.”

Dew climbs over the earth ghoul’s leg, letting himself get comfy as he leans his head against the taller ghouls chest. Mountain wraps his arms around him pulling him closer, and Dew can feel the happiness radiating out of him as the earth ghouls deep rumbly purr encourages a purr of his own to make a rare appearance. 

Mountain’s grounding presence surrounding him in a tight embrace in combination with the presence of his element leaves Dew more relaxed than he can ever remember being. He lets himself melt back into the comforting touch and next thing he knows he is on a big towel on the shore. 

The water ghoul lets out a content yet confused chirp as he lifts his head up off of Mountain’s chest, stretching and looking up at the earth ghoul. 

“Wha’ happ’nd” he yawns out.

“You fell asleep in my arms. It was kind of adorable, but I carried you here so we could both lay down.” Mountain returns with a comfortable grin. 

“”M not adorable” Dew counters with another distorted squeaky yawn that even he grumpily has to admit does sound a bit adorable.

“Sure thing little lotus. I’m sure you're off to go back to floating around now?” 

Dew sees the tiny glimmer of hope in Mountain’s eye and snuggles back down into the earth ghouls chest, flipping over to give the other side of him a chance to get some sun. 

The return of Mountain’s deep purr and his large hands smoothing over his skin as he thoughtfully rubs sunscreen into Dew’s already sun-warmed skin feels heavenly. He could swim and mess around in the lake anytime, moments like this with Mountain are priceless. 

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

Mountain originally thought Dew’s offer to braid his hair for him was a joke, but here he was sitting on the floor between the water ghouls legs while he slowly worked out various knots and tangles in his hair. He had been lamenting about how tangled his hair gets after working in the greenhouse and Dew casually offered to braid it, stating that Mist showed him how after she got tired of how often the water ghoul let his hair get tangled while swimming.

Even after it seems like all the tangles are out, Dew continues to run his fingers through Mountain’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp with each pass. He lets himself relax back into the couch, allowing Dew to play with his hair however he wants. 

Eventually he feels Dew start to section off small pieces and make his way along the right side of his head as we weaves them together. Mountain had only asked for a simple braid but already Dew was getting involved and intricate with it. 

“Lean your head against my thigh so I can better access the other side near your ear. I wanna work some tiny braids into a bigger one.” He mumbles, adjusting Mountain to rest comfortably. 

Dew pulls as much hair free from being trapped against his leg then goes back to playing with it, making long purposefully strokes of his claws along Mountain’s scalp and continuing until the hair slips through his fingers. The feeling is so nice Mountain quickly settles into a quiet purr, content to let Dew do whatever he pleases for now. 

After an unknown amount of time, Mountain feels Dew shifting around him as he attempts to lay a blanket across him with one arm, the other draped across his chest rubbing small soothing circles.

Mountain looks up at the ghoul and realizes the rest of his hair is mostly braided into a large intricate interconnecting braid and that Dew is now watching some cooking show. 

“Oh good, you're awake again. Now I can finish up” Dew mutters nonchalantly, taking his arms back to put the last touches into the braids. 

“How long was I out?” Mountain mumbled out wearily.

“Not that long really. I only finished braiding maybe 5-10 minutes ago”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I dunno” Dew shrugs out like the thought never even crossed his mind. “When you fell asleep in my arms, well between my legs really, it was kinda adorable. Guess I didn't wanna bother you”

Dew weaves the final piece of hair into place and then curls up on the couch, leaving a spot for Mountain to occupy next to him. 

“Also you never let any of us pamper you like this really and I thought it might be nice” Dew tacks on as Mountain settles down next to him. 

“It kinda was nice actually” he concedes. 

The two finish up the last of the show Dew was watching, Dew letting one hand rub along the nape of Mountain's neck while the other rubs his chest as he curls around the earth ghoul. Already Mountain can feel the edges of sleep attempting to pull at his mind once again as he watches the finishing touches get placed on whatever Mediterranean dish the program was trying to promote. 

“You know, we can move to your room and continue this if ya want” Dew mutters out quickly as he shuts off the TV in the living room. 

“Continue this, huh? Are you propositioning me? ” Mountain teases, doing his best to look shocked. 

A deep blush overtakes the water ghouls face as Mountain feels their cool skin begin to heat up. “Just kidding, I know what you meant. A nap sounds lovely poppy” 

Mountain lets Dew lead him down the hall, the smaller ghouls hand never leaving his back.

[tryan-a-bex]

Five Guesses Why Hob is Immortal and One Broken Plate

(The Scooby Gang tries to figure out why Hob is immortal.)

Read it on ao3. Inspired by this Tumblr post by @just-j-really and the continuation by @pumpkinkingsalem.

“Ruh-roh!”

Rattle, rattle, clunk, clunk, wheeze-shudder.

“That doesn’t sound good!” Daphne exclaimed as Fred pulled the Mystery Machine over to the side of the road. Fred shook his head in resignation and looked around at their surroundings.

“Time to grab a late lunch, I think, and then I’ll take a look at the engine!” 

“Oh yeah, man! Food!” Shaggy interjected, piling out of the van and heading straight for The New Inn across the road, Scooby hard on his heels.

“I hope they allow dogs,” Velma commented as she followed at a more sedate pace. 

Inside the Inn, Shaggy and Scooby were contemplating the menu. Fred, Daphne and Velma joined them as the brown-haired man singing under his breath behind the counter looked up and gave them a bright smile. Fred grimly reined Shaggy’s order in to an amount this size establishment could produce in a reasonable amount of time, and Velma asked if it would be a problem for Scooby to stay under their table.

“Oh, no, that’s quite fine, as long as he’s polite!” Hob (according to his name tag) reassured them. Then he turned away to start preparing their order, once again humming the little tune he’d been singing when they entered.

“That’s such a pretty tune he’s humming!” Daphne exclaimed as Fred took their number and turned to find a table for them.

Velma’s forehead wrinkled. “It has the tone progressions you’d expect from a tune from the late Middle Ages, but it’s not one of the ones I’m familiar with.”

“What are you saying?” Fred asked as they all slid into a booth, Scooby getting comfortable under the table where he had the best chance at scraps.

“It just seems weird that he’d casually sing such an old song,” Velma pondered.

“Yeah, and what’s with his weird name?” Shaggy asked.

“It’s a very early variation on Robert,” Velma explained. 

“Ooh, do you think he’s immortal?” Daphne asked. “Because a time traveller wouldn’t just be serving food but an immortal might!”

The crew looked at her and nodded contemplatively.

“Oh, man! Like what if he’s a ghost!” Shaggy exclaimed. They all looked surreptitiously over at the man preparing their food.

“He’s not translucent,” Daphne pointed out. 

“He’s not trying to scare people,” Velma added.

“We’ll put a pin in that one,” Fred decided. “What else do we have?”

“He could be a Chosen One, a valiant hero who spent hundreds of years in another land where time flows differently, like Narnia or something!” Daphne suggested, sighing romantically.

“Hmmm, that’s a good one,” Velma agreed. “I wonder if he still has magic now that he’s back?”

“He’s good-looking enough for it!” Fred pointed out as Shaggy nodded in affirmation. Then they paused in their speculation as Hob brought their drinks over to their table, still smiling as he distributed them and nodding in response to their thanks as he turned back to the counter, humming the same tune once again.

“Any other ideas?” Fred prompted once he was out of ear shot.

“It’s possible he was captured by fae, and only recently returned,” Velma suggested.

“Do you think he would tell us if we asked him?” Daphne wondered.

“Let’s try to figure it out first!” Fred said.

“Like, I’d kidnap him if I was a fae,” Shaggy admitted, stirring the ice cubes in his drink. “I don’t know though, like, what if he’s a vampire? That would be scary!”

“Ooh, yes!” Daphne exclaimed as the whole group shivered deliciously.

“Like, we should order something with lots of garlic, and then we’ll see if he can serve it!” Shaggy suggested enthusiastically.

“No more food, Shaggy!” Fred protested.

“He seems fine in the sunlight coming through the window,” Velma pointed out, as she sipped her smoothie.

“He may just be a very old vampire,” countered Daphne. “I know! We could stake him!”

“No!” shouted Fred, Velma and Shaggy, in tones of command, reason and terror.

“Scooby,” Fred ordered,  ”when he comes over again, you sniff him to see if he smells like blood.”

“Ro rampire!” Scooby protested, shrinking back farther under the table.

“Oh, I’ve got another one!” Fred leaned in, gesturing with his mug. “What if he made a deal with the devil? For immortality in exchange for his soul? Or his first born, or something?”

“Oooh, that’s so evil!” Velma objected. “He had such a sunny smile, it’s hard to believe that of him!”

Daphne repeated a lesson they’d learned well in their time together: “You can’t always trust appearances!” The crew looked at Hob as he came out of the kitchen, trying to surreptitiously scan him for devil’s marks.

Hob approached with their food, once more giving them a bright smile. He put a plated sandwich in front of three of them and a plate with five sandwiches stacked on it in front of Shaggy. 

“Do you need anything for your dog?” he asked, hunkering down to reach a hand out to Scooby.

“Could we have a bowl of water? And any meat scraps you have in the kitchen?” Fred requested.

“Sure thing!” After Scooby sniffed and licked his hand, he gave him a little scratch on the head and turned back to the kitchen. A moment later he was back with a couple bowls, one with water and one with scraps.

Scooby and Shaggy dug into their food as the rest of the gang watched him return to the counter. The door opened as he passed it, and they watched in fascination as he greeted the newcomer with “Hello, love!” and a kiss on the cheek. The tall, thin, milky pale man with wild black hair and a long black trench coat took a seat at the counter, and they could see as he started a conversation with Hob that he was familiar with the space as well as the man.

“If he was captured by fae, that’s the fae that took him!” Velma’s eyes were wide, but not even she was sure if it was curiosity, fear, or the compelling charisma of the stranger. She took a big bite of her sandwich, pretending not to watch the two men at the counter.

“I don’t know,” Daphne said, chasing the olive that rolled off her sandwich and across the table when she took out the toothpick, “he doesn’t seem mind controlled, or resentful of a captor.” It was true, Velma thought. The two just looked very much in love.

Shaggy finally looked up from his meal. “Oh, like, that one’s the vampire, for real!”

“Ro rud!” Scooby argued.

“No blood, eh?” Fred considered. “What if your first idea was right, Shaggy, and he’s a ghost, and this guy is Death???”

“Yeah, that could be! He fits some of the mythological stereotypes for Death characters!” Velma enthused.

“Oh no!” shuddered Shaggy, “Not Death! That’s almost scary enough to turn me off my food! Almost!” he clarified, squishing his remaining three sandwiches together and taking a big bite.

”Or,” Daphne countered, swallowing a mouthful, ”what if he was in Narnia and this is the wizard who brought him back to Earth!?”

“He looks very wizardly, I could buy that,” Fred nodded, picking up the second half of his sandwich. “I can also see why he’d choose to stay here with Hob!”

“Yeah,” Daphne agreed. “Hob’s very good looking, and so is the wizard, for that matter! They look besotted with each other!”

“On the other hand,” contended Velma, toying with her crusts, “if it was a deal with the devil, this could be the devil. Maybe he’s some kind of incubus demon. Or would he be a succubus?” she wondered, squinting at him. Scooby moaned in fear from under the table.

“Ro Reath! Ro revil! Ro remon!”

Fred shook his head in sympathy as he considered his last bite. “There are too many options and not enough ways to narrow them down. He seems like a decent person. Maybe we should circle back to Daphne’s idea and just ask him.”

“No, no, no!” Shaggy shook his head vehemently. ”He could be a ghost! He consorts with a fae, or maybe the devil! If that’s a wizard or Death, I don’t want to offend him by interrogating his boyfriend!”

“Don’t look now,” Fred whispered conspiratorially, “but he’s looking over at us!”

Daphne, of course, looked. When the dark stranger smirked at her, she jumped so hard she knocked her nearly empty plate to the floor. She tried to catch it, succeeding only in falling from the booth as it smashed and Scooby carefully wolfed up the leftovers of her sandwich.

“Jeepers!” she shouted from the floor.

The whole gang froze in terror as the stranger languidly rose from his stool, pacing gracefully towards them while calling over his shoulder, “Hob, bring a broom.”

He stood over Daphne, looking down at her with a slightly bemused expression on his face, and held out a hand to help her up. She blushed a becoming pink and courageously took his hand, getting to her feet as Hob ran up with the broom.

“Ah, no worries, I’ll have this cleaned up in a moment!” Hob got to work with the broom as his dark lover smirked again.

“Hob, they are not worried about the plate.”

“What? They’re not?” Hob looked more closely at the gang, suddenly noticing that their faces were betraying much more fear than could reasonably be attributed to breaking a plate in an eating establishment. He looked curiously at his tall friend.

“They have been telling themselves stories about you, and about me.”

Shaggy was not the only one who thought he might pee his pants at that. The gang was petrified, waiting to hear their punishment. They hadn't considered that he might be able to overhear! Well, thought Velma a bit hysterically, we’ll probably be able to tell which theory was correct by what the punishment is!

“Have you, then?” Hob inquired with another one of his lovely, sunshiny smiles. (It was slightly reassuring.) “You should tell us your stories, then. He’s the Prince of Stories.”

The gang took a collective breath of relief as Hob and the Prince of Stories pulled over chairs.

Velma began, “You see, we noticed the song you were humming. It’s about as old as your name, but neither name nor song are in current use.” 

The Prince of Stories glanced at Hob. “I told you your humming would get you in trouble one day.”

“It’s been over a hundred years since I’ve been caught! These kids are more observant and well-educated than most people, and they’re really good at connecting dots if they got “immortal” out of that!”

“Hmmmmm.”

Fred continued, ”We ruled out time travel because serving food didn’t seem like quite the thing for a time traveller.”

“We thought you were, like, a ghost! And that guy was Death!” Shaggy announced.

The Prince of Stories nodded. “It would not be the first time I was mistaken for my sister.” The gang tensed up again at that, until Hob’s calm countenance reassured them again. Hmmm, thought Velma, we’re in the realm of gods and eldritch beings rather than fae or wizards now.

“So you’re not a fae, then,” she guessed. “That was another theory, that you were a fae who had captured Hob and kept him in Faerie while time flew by in this plane of reality.”

Hob grinned. “Ah, yes! That was one of my initial theories as well, when we first met! I also thought perhaps I’d accidentally made a deal with the  devil!” He laughed and gazed fondly at his lover.

“I am neither fae nor devil.”

“That rules out my theory, then,” Fred said. “You didn’t seem like the type.”

Daphne nodded. “Scooby ruled out vampires earlier, so that leaves my theory. I thought you were a Chosen One, a hero who travelled dimensions and rescued worlds, returning here when your adventures were over, to retire with the wizard who facilitated your travel.”

“Oh, I like that one, Dream!” Hob gazed adoringly at his lover.  “How romantic, a conquering hero, settling down with my magical love!”

“You are that for me, as I am for you.”

“So you did live in Narnia?” Daphne asked breathlessly.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing so fun as that.” Hob glanced at Dream, who nodded minutely. Apparently he had decided these young people had earned the truth with their stories. “I’m just a regular human who decided one day that I wasn’t going to die. And I haven’t.”

The Prince of Stories smirked at him. “It helped that my sister wanted to set me up with you.”

“She has good taste!” Hob protested.

“Oh, I am never complaining!” Dream retorted.

“But who are you?” Fred insisted.

“I am Dream of the Endless, and that is the end of what I will tell you.”

The Endless, thought Velma, and took it as a challenge.

Notes:

Next

The wild conspiracy boarding on the Fuckboi Dream discussion server was the catalyst that finally got this out of my head and onto paper. You, my friends, are unhinged in the very best way. The fic is a WILD RIDE and I highly recommend it! (Be over 18 and mind the tags before you read the fic!) Thank you, @dancinbutterfly for writing the fic and @meadowziplines @hellfridge and @tabrises for conspiring with me that morning. (If I missed anyone lmk and I'll tag you.)

With much appreciation for my excellent beta reader, SadRumiHours!

Also, I feel like I should explain why Daphne blushed becomingly. If I had been in Daphne’s head, she would have blushed nervously. If I had been in Dream’s head, she would have blushed inexplicably. But you see, I was in Velma’s head…

More of my writing is under #tryana find it back.

[shieldkeeper]

Writing Prompt: Call it a Day Word Count: 723

“This one is bored.”

“You or me, kupo?”

“Mmmm, both?”

Two lalafells had been left to their own devices upon Garen’s ship. Both of them recently recruited into the crew and given a set list of duties for each individual. Of course they were free to do as they pleased! So long as they did their chores and kept up with the rest of them.

Which was all nice and dandy and all, but these two in particular held no attention span for work for long! Even when they were playing nice and pretending to play the act of the landwalkers, their worlds were a little different in their own eyes.

Those born of mischief and play. A member of their respective tribe clad in glamoured disguise.

“Wishy washing the floors with hands are so boring. These ones should just fly and let loose our magicks to do the trick!” The ‘lalafell’ dressed in forest greens and bark browns whined in a sing song voice. Flailing dramatically in a way not befitting their form… before the guise held no further and they transformed into that of a masked sylphling.

The other ‘lalafell’ dressed in rags and his most notable featuring being a poof of white hair fluff blinked as eyes grew wide and lit up in mischievous glee. The best part about this whole ship crew thing was finding someone much like him, just looking for an excuse to cast whimsical wonders for a spot of fun.

“But won’t we but wrung out and forced to walk the plank, kupo?”

Garen, the captain of this motley crew, had gone to great lengths to emphasize to the two tribe members of their duties and how it needed to be done after all!

But the sylphling merely shrugs its small arms, beating its wings to float further up towards the ceiling. Olyxio would not suffer doing this the normal way any longer. “How else are these ones supposed to clean every nook and cranny? This one thinks it faster this way!”

With a flourish and flick of its wings, magicks did thusly fill the room as swabs and rags marched to their own beat. Whipping around the room as splatters of soap and water rained down from above. Mogcan, starry eyed by the display, could hold back no longer as they popped up into the form of a moogle, a triumphant little ‘toot’ from a horn as they giddily added their magicks into the fray.

Before long, anything in close proximity had been absolutely soaked as water and soap from all nearby buckets had been sprayed about the cabin and hull. Soap that lathered up quickly from the chaos, where it only grew in size instead of being infused with water for proper cleaning.

But the two of them were having fun with it! Everything was getting cleaned as promised! The captain would be so proud of them!

…

Except when the captain wasn’t exactly proud of them.

“Hey.”

The duo turned. There, standing at the entryway of the room and having come to check on how they were doing, was none other than Garen himself. He’d walked in at just the wrong time, getting just about instantly drenched in water! And Garen, who was usually so patient, so kind, so always warmly smiling—

Was smiling even now. Though not in a kind way as he loomed over the two shrunken crew members.

“How about we stop here hmmm?” Despite his smile, poison dripped in his voice. That was the sound of a land walker who looked about ready to strangle their lot! “Since you were so close to damaging our wood and all and likely sunk us if you continue.”

Both Olyxio and Mogcan instantly sensed they were in deep trouble, swift to frantically buzz around the air space in fear of what Garen might do them! Even bumping into one another before finally bumbling out of the room.

“These ones are sorry…!”

“Big big big time sorry, kupoooo!”

As the made a run for it, Garen simply sighed as he gazed out upon the mess they’d left behind. There would be… much to do in terms of drying out the room before all the water settled in. It wouldn’t be too bad, but he’d have to be fast to deal with their blundering…!

[piltover-sharpshooter]

Paint Me >:3

drabbles: send me characters and a prompt

Leave a “Paint Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character drawing a picture of another [like one of your french girls~ be it painting them or drawing them, maybe offering a picture of them as a gift, feel free to specify.]

"So you see, being discontent with the newly raised taxes and the prohibition of Christianity, Amakusa Shirō lead a rebellion later called the Shimabara Rebellion, which..." And Chiasa went on to explain the complex intricacies of how a religion failed to gain a foothold on Japan after that, all the while Caitlyn nodded along and listened while continuing to paint her.

The Kami was naked, laying left side on the floor, one hand resting on the side of her face, her big fluffy tail on her leg, and even if she was talking she still had her trademark huge smile. Caitlyn had insisted that she was naked and without any 'glamour' or 'disguise' to her, no, she wanted to paint Chiasa in all her natural glory.

To any other High Class Piltovian it might seem like a parody, an intentional mockery of the usual standarts of beauty, specially the kind of beauty usually put on a canvas, but for her beauty came in all shapes and sizes, to make a painting of the Kami in all her glory was no challenge for her after the years of experience she had.

The challenge actually came in getting Chi-chi to stay in one place for long enough to finish it, something she admited freely was that she had a hard time staying in one place for too long, but that's why Caitlyn implemented a cunning tactic, and had asked questions of history all the while she was paiting, and so far it seemed to be working.

Hmmm, perhaps the tail could use some more light brown to balance it, and was it big enough? She held the brush as a measurment tool as she looked at the Kami. "Would you say that Christianity had no chance of gaining a foothold in Japan?" She asked.

"Well I wouldn't go THAT far, but you have to understand that it's a land always steeped in tradition. Let's go back to Francis Xavier, I mean he came to the Island with three converts so..." And on she went, all the while the painter listened with a smile, nodding along, as she slowly finished her masterpiece.

@risingshine

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

HI IT ME AGAIN this time for Solas x Alora, pushing a strand of hair behind their ear?

Thank you so much @a-song-in-the-stillness and @dadrunkwriting for the lovely prompt! Enjoyed writing this one a lot! It's very fluffy and cute :3

Rated G: Fluff, ~600 words

If You Loved Me | Exalted_Dawn

Alora paused in her readings, shaken from the ink-wrought words by the subtle press of autumn-chilled fingers against her temple. They lingered only for a short moment, enough to put a shiver in her skin, before brushing away a single strand of flaxen hair that had fallen out of place. She huffed slightly. “You know, if you continue to do that for every time it slips, I’ll never be able to get through the story, Solas.”

The elf resting in her lap chuckled, silver eyes bright with bemusement and clearly unmoved by her half-hearted scolding. “Then perhaps you should bind your hair better, so that I do not have to keep fixing it all the time, vhenan.”

“Hmmm… That’s funny. I don’t remember ever asking you to.” Alora dropped her book slightly, thwacking the spot between Solas’ brow with the edge of the cracked leather spine. She doubted it would leave a red mark, but a small rush of self-righteous satisfaction flashed through her chest regardless as she watched the man scrunch his brow in distaste. She giggled to herself, and returned her attention to her novel. “Besides, it's not so easy as that. And if you had any hair, you might remember that.” 

Just as soon as she located her spot on the page, the book was ripped from her hands and snapped promptly shut. 

“Hey!” she yelped, her anchored hand shooting out to chase after her stolen readings, but too slow. 

Solas was still staring up at her from his spot, but this time there was an unmistakable air of challenge in his gaze. He pitched his eyebrow high as he held the book above his head and away from her, just out of reach, a cocky grin hidden just behind the tilt of his lips. 

“You are a poor sport,” she huffed, a scowl pulling at her mouth. “Please, give it back?”

His smile only widened. “If your arms were longer, you would be able to take it from me.”

“And if you loved me, I wouldn’t have to.” 

They both froze. 

The statement sat between them, lingering in the late day, garden air as the two simply held each other’s gaze– the moment almost stretching too long to be comfortable. Alora shifted in her spot, ears bright red as she ducked her head away from beneath the weight of Solas’ attention on her. She’d gotten too comfortable, and that word was still too new. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “I, uhm-”

The book appeared again before her face, held aloft between thumb and lightly callused fingers. 

Solas blinked up at her expectantly. 

“Oh,” she breathed, taking it gingerly in her hand as if the pages might scorch her. “Thank you… Ma serannas.”

“Of course,” he murmured, his voice nearly hoarse. The hand that he’d held aloft reached further, stretching towards and then past her face. As if snatching a moth from the sky, he caught another stray strand of her hair– displaced when she had ducked in embarrassment– and tucked it carefully behind her ear. “Please, continue your reading. Do not let me bother you further.”

His hand fell away, and suddenly, silently, she mourned it. 

With bright pink ears, born not entirely from the cold that chewed at her skin, she resettled and found her page again. Quiet fell between them once more as the written words poured from her lips. But as she read, one thought replayed over and over in her mind.

Maybe she would not mind it so much if he bothered her more.

[thepenultimateword]

For the ask game: Fire, Ice, and Winter!

Fire: What’s a scene that you are dying to write?

There are several.

First, I’m super excited to kill off one of my characters in my novel To Play the Game, because she is actually immortal and it’s going to be like a big plot twist/reveal! (I really want to see my writing groups reaction mwahaha. I’m also just excited in general for the ending of that book because it’s going to be CHAOS! And the villain is finally going to get a face reveal and I love hiiim! He’s so crazy!

Second, I’m really excited to write the backstory for one of the antagonist characters in another book called Wanderthought. It’s always on my mind, but I’m excited for when I finally reach the point where I can reveal it to the other characters! In that same book, I’m also dying to write the MCs’ relationship, because currently they tolerate each other but they’re going to be so in love someday! 🥰

Third, there’s this moment in Dangerous Attraction coming up in the distant future! I need to build up the relationship between Paramour and Guard still but basically Guard is going to be used as leverage and Paramour’s going to be like “kill him, I don’t care.” But then when they actually start to hurt them they’re like “Stop, stop, stop! Ok!” And until this moment it’s very unclear whether Paramour has genuine feelings or not and just ahhh *chef’s kiss*

Fourth, Big Bad will have a similar moment near the end. Supervillain is going to realize Villain might be killed by the third supervillain, so they jump in and kill the supervillain and rescue villain, and it’s going to be so charged with Villain’s panic from almost dying and Supervillain’s panic from almost losing them, and they are sitting with their foreheads together, lips centimeters apart, so so close to touching, and then they both get a hold of themselves and separate before they can actually kiss because they’re both still sort of in denial. But it’s going to be ultimate slow burn tease to their real feelings.

The problem is these are all at the end of the stories and I’m not even close to any of them. And I like writing chronologically because often lots of plot changes in between me writing the beginning and ending.

Ice: What do you always get stuck on when writing?

Fight scenes. I hate them. It’s so hard to make them actually interesting and not a boring play by play. Part of the reason I haven’t continued some series is because I know fight scenes are coming up. I also get stuck on naming things, I usually mark anything I need to come back to as “tk” (to come) and that helps, but it still eats in the back of my mind and makes it hard to move on.

Winter: Have you ever written a story based on a holiday?  If yes, which holiday was it for and what was it like?

Hmmm, I think the closest I’ve gotten are holiday themed prompts. I did one for Thanksgiving and another for Black Friday. Oh and one for Valentine’s Day too. I think if I were to write an actual story though, Halloween would be a fun one! Halloween with real monsters involved (I know that been done already, but I don’t care)

[writingsfromspace]

The First

679 words | from the universe of The Stenotypist & the Dragonslayer

Prompt | Storms and thorns - @flashfictionfridayofficial​

An writing! Would you believe! Little post-canon retelling of a pre-canon story, in which a baby dragonslayer has an Encounter.

»Tell me a story.«

»Hmmm? What?« It was a cozy evening, rain pouring down outside, and Braen was holding Vits in his arms and just about ready to drift off to sleep when Vits jumped the question at him.

»You know… you must have seen a lot. Out there in the forest. You always like telling me about it.«

»Hmmm… Well. A story. Right. Okay.« He paused, until the rain pattering down on the house reminded him…

»This was when I was like - nineteen? Still in training, of course. Just had started accompanying the real adult dragonslayers on their patrols.«

It had begun as a day like any other. The forests were still new and exciting to Braen, but he was too meek to even try to do anything stupid as he trundled along between the two dragonslayers who had been saddled with him. He remembered their names, of course, but they would mean nothing to Vits, so he didn’t bother.

The storm rolled in equally quick and unexpected. »I’d never seen anything like it. One minute, it was all bright and, you know, peaceful, and the next it might have been night. We were kind of protected from the wind between the trees, but… it wasn’t enough. And suddenly it was so quiet…

We were like half an hour from the city, but they determined we weren’t going to make it. So we sheltered in this little clearing, no tall trees, fairly safe from any that might fall, and then the rain started coming down. You probably would have been swept away, shorty.«

»Oh, you wish.«

Braen laughed and squeezed Vits before he continued. »I mean, the water was standing. And of course, lightning, so going back among the trees wasn’t an option, but sitting in water wasn’t exactly ideal either. And that was when I saw my first dragon.«

He knew he didn’t have to impress upon Vits the shock of it. Even with his training, even with the tales the dragonslayers spun for the recruits, he had not been prepared for the black hole appearing at the edge of the forest, its blank white eyes fixed on their little group. It was as soaked as they were, but even so it barely glistened in the low light, its skin swallowing all that was left of it.

They made for the forest, somewhere less exposed to the monster. Braen’s fingers itched to draw his sword, anything to put between himself and it, but he knew, even then, to wait for the command - and the way he was stumbling backwards, in hindsight, even a regular sword would have done more harm than good.

The dragon followed them, on foot, across the clearing, leisurely, as if it knew they couldn’t escape.

The eldest, leading the patrol, brought them to a small gully, enough to protect them from attacks from the side. It was flooded, of course, but the water, although rapid, wasn’t more than knee-deep.

»Kid.« Braen remembered his leader’s deep voice like it had been yesterday. »Back to the city. Run.«

There was no room to argue, although a part of him certainly wanted to; another, though, was glad, oh so glad, to get out of there.

He dashed through the gully. He’d underestimated the water, lost his footing more than once; but he was already soaked from the rain, and he managed to get through, raced through a forest creaking with the onslaught of wind and rain. Thorns tore at him, wet leaves slipped from under him; once his momentum sent him flying into a tree so hard he cracked his nose.

But he made it home, alive.

»And you weren’t scared to go back?« Vits asked, after a long pause.

Braen shrugged. He didn’t like it when Vits acted like he was some kind of hero. Everyone else was already doing that.

Vits rested his head back on his chest. »Well, I am kind of glad your first encounter wasn’t all that much better than mine.«

Braen chuckled, and held him close, listening to the rain.

[giggles-and-freckles]

4. With Obi-wan and Padme

4. "Just hold my hand." // hm, this one got a bit more angsty than I intended. oopsie daisies! tw: blood mention (from these prompts)

“Oh.”

Obi-Wan sighs and pulls his cloak tight around him. “Hello, Senator.”

“I thought I was going alone,” she says flatly. Sure, he’s seen this icy side of her, on Naboo, in the Senate – but never experienced it so directly.

“The Chancellor recommended an escort.”

“And you were the choice?” Padmé asks, then snorts derisively. “How convenient.”

He dips his head. “We should get going.”

The trip is short. Obi-Wan flies and Padmé stares out the viewport. No word is shared between them, not even an exchange of coordinates. Obi-Wan doesn’t bother to ask for a relay or any assistance at all, as he might have done if it was Anakin or anyone else in the passenger seat. Instead, he goes at it alone.

When they arrive on world, something shifts within Padmé. He senses it before he sees it. But her steps become heavy and her shoulders grow tight. Suddenly, he notices how little make-up she is wearing and how defined the rings beneath her eyes are.

So she hasn’t been sleeping either.

He feels a twisted sort of relief at this shared pain.

“It should be a quick exchange,” he says, as they approach the city centre. “They’re expecting us. We give them the money, they —”

“Give us a human being,” she spits. “Yes, I know how a slave auction works, but thank you, Master Jedi.”

“Padmé,” he says quietly and braves a brief touch on her shoulder. It stops her, even though she doesn’t turn around to meet his gaze. Instead, he walks up ahead and turns so she has no choice. “You must understand that...what we’re walking into…”

The hard lines of her scowl crumple a bit into something softer and sadder. “I know,” she whispers, and Obi-Wan watches the tension leaves her shoulders altogether. It is immediately replaced by a heavy, palpable sort of grief. The kind that drags and pulls and takes years off of what should still be considered youth.

Obi-Wan would know.

“We know he’s alive. We have confirmation of that. The Council...they — we know he’s alive. But, Senator...beyond that. His state may…” Obi-Wan swallows. “It may be unnerving. We must hold to our mandate.”

Her face twists bitterly. “And not let our emotions get the best of us,” she fills in. “Yes, have heard you favour that lesson.”

He begins to say something in response, but her eyes dart down apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That was...I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Are you ready?”

She takes a breath and he watches as poise rolls through her. Just like that, in a single moment, she has mastered the lesson. For more than a decade, Obi-Wan has walked Anakin through this practice, to no avail. But here, now, the senator has achieved it with a snap.

Obi-Wan lifts an impressed eyebrow. “You would have made quite the jedi, Senator.”

“You would have made quite the politician,” she counters.

“Well, there’s no need for things as insulting as that,” he replies, then leads the way into the city centre.

It doesn’t take long to find the auction. And maybe it’s the Force, maybe it’s the rolling waves of anger and agony, colliding into each other over and over, that makes Obi-Wan immediately find Anakin amidst the crowd of paraded men, women, and children.

Padmé stumbles beside him.

And immediately Obi-Wan realises his folly. He was foolish to allow her coolness to dictate his silence on the journey here. A debrief should have been in order. Certainly, Padmé has seen more suffering than any young woman should, but — Obi-Wan feels decades older than her. It was his duty to prepare her for this. And he failed.

Anakin senses their presence, too. He lifts his gaze from the shackles at his feet and meets Obi-Wan’s eyes. Obi-Wan pulses comfort through their bond. You’re going to be okay, he tells him. But Anakin’s eyes widen the slightest bit and Obi-Wan knows he’s seen Padmé.

“Obi-Wan,” she murmurs, shakily. “Look at —”

“Shh,” he says under his breath, his eyes flickering around the crowd that has gathered. If this is to go off without a hitch, they must stay discreet.

“His...my gods, the blood. It...it…”

“I know,” he says in a hushed voice, his own stomach churning in on itself. Anakin’s body is charred by burns and slices. His flesh appears minced and raw, blood both caked and freshly dripping from several wounds.

Padmé wavers beside him. “Obi-Wan —”

“Just hold my hand.”

[kookscrescent]

A Needy, Desperate Fuck Up (m) │ pjm

❒ pairing: jimin x female reader ❒ summary: jimin’s desperation leads to a fuck up. ❒ prompt: "Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that's not fucking good!" and "Fuck! I'm not on the pill!" ❒ rating: nc-17, 18+ ❒ genre: smut, pwp ❒ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, cursing, accidental creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, choking, crying, Jimin is neeedyyyy for that puzz puzz ❒ word count: 3.1k │ unedited ❒ release date: may 8th 2021 ❒ disclaimer: This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

The door to your bedroom barely has a chance to close properly before Jimin has you pressed flat against the wall. The coldness of the exposed brick wall has goosebumps rising on your rapidly heating skin, and you shudder at the contact.

But you don’t care. All you can think about is the way Jimin feels pressed against your body – the hard panels of his toned chest and abdominal muscles, not to mention his hard length growing against your leg.

You can’t help but moan at the feeling. It’s been way too long since you and Jimin have had sex! He’s been extremely busy with recording for the new album, and his schedule is almost jammed packed every day, and on the rare occasion that he has a few hours of free time, you would much rather have him spend it on catching up on some rest.

But something had come over him the minute he opened your front door and stepped inside. Like you normally would, you’d yelled out a hello to him, letting him know you were in the kitchen, with your hands buried in the dirty dish water as you were cleaning the few dishes you had neglected since the day before. You hadn’t heard him call back a hello to you like he normally would, but you thought he might just be tired and didn’t really think anything of it. However, you did hear him entering the kitchen and stopping just behind you. About to ask him if he was hungry and if he wanted you to make him something, you’d dried your hands on the nearest rag, but you didn’t even manage to get a proper look at him before his hands were in your hair and his lips were claiming yours in a hard kiss.

It took your breath away. Literally. The rag fell to the floor without a sound and without pulling away to question his sudden behavior you grabbed his face in your hands, trying to bring him closer. He took the hint and stepped forward, pushing his chest and pelvis against your body. he was hot and cold at the same time. His clothes cold from the slight breeze outside, but his hands and lips warm and hot against your skin.

Things escalated pretty quickly from that point and you honestly can’t really remember the journey from the kitchen to your bedroom. Every breath you each take is rushed and breathy, and all you seem to recall is hands frantically trying to remove pieces of clothing and said clothing landing haphazardly on the floor in a line behind you. Hard and wet kisses to your lips and neck, and your hands desperately trying to undo the string on Jimin’s joggers.

At this point you’ve both managed to get each other undressed, both of you now lying naked on the bed, Jimin hovering above you, your legs caging him in and his hard cock resting between your soaked folds as he slowly grinds himself against you. Your mouths are a hot mess, lips slipping and sliding over each other and your tongues erotically dancing.

It’s like all hell have broken loose and the both of you have just lost it. You have no idea what has spurred on his sudden desperate need to claim you, but you can’t say that you mind one bit. You’re equally as desperate to have him, not having felt him inside of you for almost three weeks!

Throwing your head back, you groan as the tip of his cock nudge your clit. “Shit, that feels so good!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You find his eyes, hoping to god he won’t stop moving against you.

He leans down for another kiss. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your sweet pussy!” He rumbles, lifting to his hands so he can watch his cock effortlessly slid between your folds, your slick coating every thick inch of him. “Fuck, I need to taste you baby.”

With a jerk he moves down your body, your legs automatically parting wider to make room for him. Once settles between your legs, Jimin looks up at you from under lust clouded eyes, his pupils so dark and intense that you become slightly nervous. Pressing a kiss to the juncture of your thigh, he gently and ever so slowly runs the tip of his pointer finger down your slit, collecting your juices before sucking his finger clean.

He groans and you almost dissipate on the spot. His finger returns to your heat as another kiss is pressed to the juncture of your thigh. He repeats his previous action – running his finger down your slit, collecting your arousal, but he stops at your entrance, teasingly circling your hole. He pushes in just an inch before retreating and you mumble a frustrated please. You lock eyes, just as a second finger joins the first and he pushes in all the way to his knuckles.

Your head hits the pillows in a sigh of relief. He pushes in and out of you in a slow and tantalizing rhythm. It has your head swimming, and you need more.

“Please Jimin, please! Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t tease you baby?” he repeats and following with a kiss right above your clit. “Why not?”

Arrogant shit, you think!

“It’s been so long…” you mumble, your voice muffled by the pillows when he begins to pick up the pace. “Make me cum!”

“Hmmm,” he places another kiss above your clit, so close to touching but never enough to give you the relief you want. He begins scissoring his fingers inside of you, and the familiar fire starts in your stomach. “Want me to make you cum with my mouth babygirl?”

You nod frantically! “Yes yes yes ye- ahhhh!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Jimin’s tongue finally making contact with your clit. He gently licks it – long fat swipes with his warm tongue.

The sounds coming out of you is only spurring him on. Two fingers turn to three and he sucks your clit so violently it has your hips rising from the bed. He easily folds one arm across your lower abdomen, holding you down as he continues to suck.

The fire picks up, and your cries grows louder and louder with each suck of his mouth and each thrust of his fingers. You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever wanted, no needed, to cum so desperately. You can almost taste the release on your tongue. So close.

You can feel how eager Jimin is to make you explode on his tongue as well. He pushes the entirety of his face into your soaked pussy. His tongue working you so feverishly, his nose bumping your sensitive clit.

You grasp at his hair, pushing his face deeper into you and he groans in respond. The vibration sending a wave of tingles through your clit and all the way down to your toes, making them curl. You feel like your brain is no longer connected to the rest of your body, your legs and hips having a life of their own – bucking wildly against his face, trying to reach your high.

Slipping his fingers out of you, he reaches up to press your hips to the bed with both of his hands, making you completely immobilized.

You’re about to whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, but Jimin is quick to replace them with his fat tongue instead.

“Ah…ah Jimin- oh god!” You moan.

He continues his feast. Slurping and sucking every inch of your wet pussy. You’re so close, so fucking close to cumming, every nerve in your body is on high alert, ready to explode in a fit of euphoria.

Jimin moans between your legs. Loving the way your sweet juices cover his face and tongue. If he’s not careful, the mere taste of you on his tongue combined with the way you sound when you’re losing control, he could probably cum.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You plead, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp, yanking at his hair.

He doesn’t stop. Jimin keeps going, your moaning pleas urging him to go even faster, and he throws his fingers back into the equation. Plunging two fingers into your tight hole and working them at the same fast rhythm as his tongue on your clit.

When your grip on his hair becomes almost too painfully tight, he knows your cumming.

“Shit shit shit shit shit! Ohhhhhhh…!!”

He keeps lapping up every inch of you until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every small inch of your orgasm. Only when your hands fall limply to the bad, does he ease up.

You’re panting, trying to catch your breath as Jimin kisses his way back up your body. He seems just as out of breath as you are, but you can tell that he’s no way near finished with you.

And you would be sourly disappointed if he were.

*

“God you’re so hot!” Jimin breaths, lips hovering above yours, barely touching. He thumbs your lower lip, drawing it down before flicking his tongue across it. Locking his eyes on yours, he holds your gaze as he works his hips between your legs.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he lets the other arm travel behind your body to roughly grab onto your ass cheek, squeezing it tightly as he grinds his pelvis against you, letting his pelvis rub against your still sensitive clit as his cock is nestled deep inside of you.

Lifting, you reach for his mouth, your breast pressing against his sweaty chest. You whimper into his mouth as he slowly begins drawing back his hips and pushing his cock back inside with a hard thrust. He repeats this several times. Each time pushing a little deeper and thrusting a little harder.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, he whispers, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard on my cock.”

“Please!”

“Would you like that?”

“Yes! God yes!”

He forces one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves to sit on his knees, trapping your remaining leg between his. This automatically causes you to roll to your side, changing the position and making him go deeper.

Fisting the sheets, you hold on for dear life as Jimin begins fucking into you at an almost violent pace. He kisses your shin as he uses your leg as leverage to push himself faster and deeper inside of you.

It’s a bruising pace – hard, fast and rough.

“I-I… Jimin!” You hoarsely call out his name as heat washes through your body and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Shit! Are you gonna cum baby?” His eyes zero in on the way your pussy swallows his cock so desperately, your wall tightening and sucking him in. “Fuck you’re getting so tight!” He whines almost painfully.

You cry out, your orgasm crashing through you like a volcano erupting. Your entire body is convulsing and tingling with the sweet feeling of the release you’ve missed so much. And even when you’re spend and don’t think you can take much more, Jimin keeps going. He fucks you through the waves aftershocks till they subside, and you feel a new knot of fire starting to form.

Your pussy spasms around his cock and it feels like he’s splitting you open. “Oh my fucking god!”

“Fuck! How do you keep getting tighter?!” He throws his head to the ceiling with a deep growl, his fingers digging into your flesh and he slows down to let your both catch your breath.

“Kiss me please,” you manage to stammer out the few words, needing to feel him close to you again.

With your leg still over his shoulder, he leans down on his elbows till he’s able to slot his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. You claim his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as your tongue licking its way inside. It’s wet and messy, and Jimin switches his rhythm to match the pace of the kiss. Slowly, he grinds his hips against yours as your mouths make love. It’s a complete switch of mood from what it was mere seconds ago. But none the less, the know forming in the pit of your stomach keeps on growing.

Jimin pick up the pace once again. Frantically, desperately snapping his hips against yours – the sound of your skin slapping together and the squelch of your juices as the pumps in and out, filling the room.

“Fuck,” he breaths and finds your neck, licking a fat stripe from your ear to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He bits down softly and your face contorts in pleasure, hands scratching down his sweaty back.

You don’t know how he’s able to keep going like this, but you’re not about to tell him to slow down or stop. Not when the tingling feeling of another orgasm starts spreading through your body. But before the feeling can take full flight, Jimin stops to sit up on his haunches, and you whine loudly.

“Noooo!”

He laughs, running a hand through his thick wet locks. “Don’t worry babygirl. I’ve got you.”

And he does. He doesn’t waste a beat and immediately pick up where he left. He spreads your legs wide, his eyes focusing on the way he sinks his cock into your sweet heat, the way you drink up every inch of him. The sight nearly makes him cum on the spot and he has to concentrate real hard not to blow his load inside already. He’s not done with you yet!

Having gone so long without being inside of you, he’s not ready for this to be over!

“Jimin- ah ah ahhhhh- hnnng!” Your back arches off the bed as the crown of his cock rubs against your sweet spot. Jimin responds with his hand on your throat, putting just the right amount of pressure. You can feel your eyes tearing up at the intense amount of pleasure running through your body, he’s everywhere! You can feel him everywhere! And you don’t know how much more you’ll be able to take, feeling spend and used after 2 orgasms already.

“Baby please,” you beg him teary eyed. “Need you to cum!”

Jimin shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes as determination takes over his features. “Gonna make you cum again!” he rasps, throwing his other hand into the mix as well – using his thumb to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Your hips buck against his touch and the fire in your stomach intensifies to the point of pain. “I-I can’t…” you sob, and you desperately try to find something to grab onto, eventually settling on Jimin’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. You’re sure that will leave a mark in the morning.

“Yes you can!” Jimin growls, teeth biting into his bottom lip and he begins pounding into your so ruthlessly and desperately. He fucks you so hard and fast, that you’re almost positive that the bed will break.

He squeezes your throat a little harder, making the tears stream down your cheeks – wetting the pillow below you.

“Fucking cum! Cum around my cock baby!” he breathes, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

The slight change in position, has his cock reaching so deep inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, fingers clawing into Jimin’s back – trying to hold on for dear life as he pounds you to your third orgasm for the night.

“Jimi- fuck…ahhhhhh!” you cry hoarsely, as you cum so hard that spots start dancing in front of your eyes and your breath catches in your throat when Jimin tighten his hold on your throat the slights bit – adding fuel to your already too intense pleasure.

“That’s it,” he grunts, continuing his abuse and fucking you through your orgasm, now chasing his own as well.

“Oh my god, please!”

You’re so desperate to feel him fall apart, to feel him lose control as much as you are. Wrapping yourself around him, you pull him as close as possible, your hands grasping his ass, pushing and pulling him towards you and your hips matching him thrust for thrust.

“Yesssss! Fuck ____, just like that. Just like that,” he chants, and you cry out in relief when you feel his muscles tensing up under your fingers and his cock twitching inside of you as he cums in hot spurts.

He continues to swirl his hips slowly as you both come down from your high. He finds your lips, placing small, sweet pecks of love over and over again as you both try to find your breath.

“That was…” you mumble against his lips.

He cracks a smile, “It was.”

Eventually Jimin stops moving completely, just lying on top of you with his arms caging you in and his hands running lovingly through your sweat soaked hair. You really need a shower before you go to bed. But you stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Just kissing and touching each other. You’re pretty sure you won’t be able to move once you have to get out of bed, your legs feeling completely numb. But at this rate, you’re not even sure you want to get out of bed at all – the way Jimin feels on top of you, his weight pressing you down, the way his cock feels inside of you and his warm cum still filling your-

“Did you come inside of me?” you ask him abruptly, your eyes going as big as saucers.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected, confused for a second. “Did I? I guess I did.”

“Jimin!” You begin to panic, your voice going up an octave. “Fuck! I’m not on the pill!”

Jimin’s entire body stiffens upon hearing your words. “What?!” He still asks, not sure he heard you right.

“I’m not on the pill right now!”

“What? Why? You’ve always been on the pill!” He says, sitting up and pulling out of you. You wince at the slight sting he leaves behind from pounding you so thorough and good.

“Yes, but remember last month when I had my doctor’s appointment because I was having really bad cramps? She told me to stop taking them for a while to see how my body would respond! I clearly remember telling you this and that you needed to wear condoms!”

“WHAT?!” he practically screeches in disbelief, watching as his cum slowly leaks out of your abused entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that’s not fucking good!”

[uncpanda]

Career Change

Prompt 24: Waking them up with gentle kisses

Warnings: The case refenced refers to a child case. There are no details only that the CARD team was needed, and that these types of cases take a toll on Hotch. 

Pairing: Hotch x GN!Reader 

“You know, I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen Hotch sleep on the plane.” 

You glance over at Derek, who is standing right beside you. You give him a sad smile, “The kid cases hit him hard. I don’t think he slept at all the entire three days we were there. And despite the rumors he is only human.” You shoot Derek a conspiratorial wink and he smiles. 

“I think it might also have something to do with who he’s snuggling up with.” 

Your smile turns bashful. Your thirteen year marriage to Aaron was no secret. The two of you had met in the academy and become fast friends. And while you were guarding Ambassador Prentiss the two of you had become more. The two of you had made your way up the ranks of the FBI: Aaron to the BAU and you to the CARD team. 

As a result, the two of you were thrown together at work every once in a while. And you knew that while Aaron loved his team, he tended to keep his personal life, just that: personal. There were the traditional pictures of you and the kids decorating the office, but he really tried to keep work and home separate. You did the same thing. 

But sometimes it bled over. And while you had managed to distance yourself with the CARD team, learned how to dissociate in order to get the job done. Aaron never had; not when it came to kids. Your own children were the light of his life. He loved being a father more than anything. And more than once he had talked about going back to practicing law. 

You both tended to have sporadic schedules. But the two of you had found ways to make it work. As it was, you would both be up early for Jack’s soccer game, and then Ethan’s tee-ball game. After that you would spend the day as a family. 

When the plane lands, you stay in place. Aaron is still fast asleep, and you’re not ready to wake him up. He deserves this sleep. He needs this sleep. No one on the team questions it either. Instead, you continue to read your book, and wait. You last three hours before the need to use the bathroom gets the better of you. You feel bad, but you suppose going home to sleep is better in the long run. 

So, you employ Aaron’s preferred method to wake him up. You turn your head and kiss the top of his head, while you contort your arm to stroke his cheek. His face scrunches up and he twists his head to the side. You undo your seatbelt and reach over to continue placing kisses on his face. First his cheek, then his chin, then his nose, then his eyes, and finally his lips. He responds to that one. Figures. 

When you pull back he opens his eyes. It takes a minute for him to adjust to his surroundings. He sits up straight and rolls his shoulders before scrubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He looks adorably rumpled, and his hair is slightly messy. Your adorable husband. 

“When did we land?” His voice his rumbly. 

“About three hours ago.” 

You reach over to run your fingers through the sides of his hair. His sighs. “I need a haircut.” 

“You need more sleep. Let me use the bathroom and we can head home.” 

“Hmmm.” 

“You promise to still be awake when I come back?” 

“Yep.” 

You do your business and head back to find Aaron still in his seat, staring straight ahead. There’s a contemplative look on his face. You slide your fingers against the back of his neck. “What’s going on in that brain of yours SSA Hotchner?” 

He looks up at you, “I want another baby.” 

Your eyes go wide and you blink at that. You take the sentence in for a second, before sitting back down in your seat. “I thought we agreed to stop at two because of our jobs. We didn’t think it was fair if we had anymore kids because we’re always traveling and we didn’t want to take attention away from Jack and Ethan. Plus, while my parents love keeping the kids, asking them to do it with an infant . . .” Your parents loved watching the kids. They said it kept them young, and they were proud of you and Aaron and the work you did. Your dad had been an agent, and your mom had been an agent’s wife. They knew the drill. 

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, “What if I wasn’t SSA Hotchenr anymore?” 

You blink at that. He’s mentioned going back to law before, but never with any real intention. But what you see in front of you is pure intention. There’s something there. “You have a job offer?” 

“Federal DA. My old law mentor called and asked me to interview, and I don’t know why I said yes, but I did. And the more I went through the interview process the more I realized, yes there will be some late nights, and yes there’s some danger, but nothing compared to what I have now. I could be home more with the kids. I could spend more time with you. 

“When it comes to our schedules . . . mine takes me away more than yours does. And I don’t know. . . something about this case just kind of cemented that.” 

Silence engulfs the two of you for a few minutes. Your voice is hesitant when you break it, “Why didn’t you tell me about the interviews.” 

“I thought you might be disappointed. You fell in love with the agent, not the lawyer. The last time I made a career change it ruined my relationship . . .” 

You consider your words carefully, “I would never be disappointed Aaron. You love the law. You always have. How many nights have I come in to you reading new law journals just to keep up with things. Or doing practice bar exams to make sure you’d still pass? If this is what you want, I say go for it.” 

He smiles at you and takes your hand, “And another baby?” 

You laugh, “Is a conversation worth having.” 

“Yeah?” 

You stand, “I haven’t said yes yet Aaron.” 

He stands too, and starts following you off the plane, “We make cute babies.” 

You just laugh and look back at your husband. Something about him seems lighter; less burdened. You don’t know if he’ll actually leave the BAU, but if it makes him happy, you’ll support it. And you could only love him more for it. 

[pillage-and-lute]

(For next time you’re looking for prompts) I really like your writing, and when I thought of this I wondered what you’d do with it: Geralt and Jaskier are together, but agree to pretend not to be for their next stop. Maybe one of them wants to win an old bet, or Jaskier’s not 100% sure his betrothal to a local noble has been officially dissolved, whatever, (not homophobia), fluff and high jinx ensue. Anyway I hope something unexpectedly nice happens to you today.

Hi Dahliavandare! Thanks for the blessing in my inbox  🥰

This ran away from me, tons of backstory about Jaskier’s family. Just, way too much.

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

“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “I have an errand we need to run, and I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Geralt hummed noncommittally. They were resting at their camp outside of Hagge and the warm summer air and the feeling of Jaskier curled against him had lulled him into a warm, fuzzy stupor.

“You see,” Jaskier continued, fiddling with the buttons at his cuffs. “I’m a noble, and you know that of course.” He laughed awkwardly. “And I’ve been lucky enough to pawn most of those responsibilities off onto my much savvier sister, but there are certain niceties that landed families observe that--”

“Spit it out,” Geralt grumbled, although not bad naturedly. 

“I’m betrothed,” Jaskier said. “And we need to go to Gwendeith to break it off.”

Geralt turned to look at his beloved. “You’re engaged?”

“Betrothed!” Jaskier yelped, then saw Geralt’s expression. “Oh, dear heart, there’s a slight difference in meaning, especially to nobles. Engaged implies an intent to marry--”

“And betrothed doesn’t?”

“Well, sort of, but I’ve been betrothed practically since I was born, engaged would imply I’m sort of planning the wedding. It’s a contract, a social contract. My family and my betrothed’s are pretty minor nobles, so really it’s just a way of saying ‘maybe someday our kids could marry’. It isn’t the hard and fast marriage it might be if I were, say, a prince.”

“Then why do it?” Geralt asked. Most of the time he was happy to understand as little of the lives of the gentry as possible, but Jaskier was important.

“Honestly,” Jaskier sighed. “I think Papa arranged it because he cared for me, Mama too.”

“It takes away your choice,” Geralt began.

“It doesn’t. A betrothal like mine and... Iliana, that’s her name, only met her twice, it’s sort of social insurance. Especially for her, but for me as well. Nobles are supposed to marry, so, if at some point neither of us had found love we could marry one another. For Iliana there’s the security of having a husband, although from what I’ve heard she can handle herself fine, and for me its assurance of heirs if that sort of thing concerned me, and companionship for us both.”

It sounded...mostly sort of logical to Geralt.

“But I love you,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t want to be betrothed to anyone because I love you and, someday, whenever you get over you allergy to the concept of commitment, I’m going to put a ring on you.”

Geralt hummed gruffly but said nothing. There was a slim golden band hidden away in his bags and he be damned if Jaskier got to propose first.

“I will. Anyway, I need to tell Iliana. I’m sure she won’t mind. I met her once when I was seven and again when I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen, when?” Geralt asked. Most of Jaskier’s nineteenth year had been spent at Geralt’s side. Most of every year after that too.

“Just before I met you. I had travelled east to meet her originally, and was going back west when we met.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Illiana? Oh, well, she told me that she was fine leaving the betrothal in place because it’s standard, but that she doesn’t care for men in that way so she’d never give me heirs and would have my balls nailed above her door if I ever told her she had to.”

“Sounds like she’d get along with Yen.”

“I fear they’d take over the world,” Jaskier said. “Anyway, I told her no worries since, honestly, heirs just aren’t important to me. Then we agreed that when either of us found love we’d break the betrothal and that would be that.”

“Hmmm.”

“No, Geralt, tell me what that means. Is that a ‘okay, let’s go to Gwendeith’ hum? A ‘I’m angry that you’re betrothed’ hum?”

Geralt shifted to poke the fire. “It’s a ‘I think there’s more you need to tell me’ hum.”

“Ah,” Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. We have to go in person because a letter would be rude, but also...we have to pretend not to be together, while we’re in Gwedeith.”

“Why?”

“It’s politics, dear heart. It would be shaming to Iliana, socially. Personally, I don’t think she’d care, but it’s a courtesy thing.”

“I don’t do a lot of lovey stuff anyway,” Geralt said. 

“You think you don’t,” Jaskier said. He began to unroll their bedroll.

“What do you mean, Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned to him, smiling indulgently and gilded in the firelight. “Our lives have molded around one another, my love. When I stand beside you your hand goes to my back or my shoulder. You order dinner for me because you know just what food I like. When I’m tired you don’t have to ask what’s wrong, you just lift me onto Roach behind you.”

Geralt hadn’t even realized he did, but he knew it was true. Jaskier leaned over and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s slightly furrowed brow.

“When my boots are wearing thin you buy me new ones before I even notice. When I’m cold you give me your cloak. If I fall asleep with my head on your shoulder you’d rather sit like that all night than disturb me.”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “You buy me beeswax,” he said. It seemed a fair retort. Jaskier bought him beeswax to put in his ears when cities or sometimes monsters were too loud for Geralt’s senses. “You only buy light scents, even though I know you like bolder perfumes.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, taking one of Geralt’s large, scarred hands. “We love eachother very much, and it’s obvious to people who care to look.”

“That could be dangerous,” Geralt began, his head spiralling towards worry for Jaskier’s safety, but Jaskier cut him off.

“No, dear heart. It’s obvious to those who care to look. The sort of people who would hurt me for loving you, well, most of them think you can’t love, so they don’t look for love, and they don’t see.” 

Geralt sat back. People saw what they expected to see, it was true. 

“We’ll travel to Gwendeith,” he said. “And unbetroth you.”

Jaskier kissed him and his lips tasted like the jerky they’d eaten for supper.

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

The trip to Gwendeith was long. It was at the very edge of any map, past Posada to the east, tucked into the Blue mountains.  They traveled along the Dyfne river, taking the occasional contract but making good time. This far from anything, there were few people to be troubled by monsters. 

They stopped in Posada one night, eating dinner in the corner of a familiar tavern. This time, however, Jaskier was much better received and the bread ended up on the table rather than down his trousers.

Past Posada, and almost to the end of the Dyfne river, Geralt asked, “Why did your parents pick Iliana? How did they know of her?” Lettenhove was entirely the other side of the continent, a tiny island off the coast of Poviss with two villages and a couple flocks of sheep. 

Geralt only knew of it from Jaskier’s descriptions, which were mostly stories of the ice cold sea and rocky cliffs. He tended toward calling it ‘idyllic’ and ‘picturesque’ altough occassionally ‘the arse end of the world’ and ‘colder than an ice giant’s ballsack.’ The first time Geralt had taken Jaskier to Kaer Morhen he’d feared for his bard’s safety in the cold of the mountains, but Jaskier hadn’t even blinked an eye, merely bundling up in a hugely wooly cloak and mittens. 

“Ah, well,” Jaskier said. “Long story, but Papa was in Temeria, see, since nothing ever happens in Lettenhove, because we have more people than sheep, he get’s sent on diplomatic missions a lot. He’s good at it, and he can be spared. He loves it too, even though he’s sort of retired he still does them. Takes Ma, calls the trips his little “sunshine vacations”. 

“You get your personality from your father, then?” Geralt asked. Jaskier didn’t talk about his family much, and Geralt got the sense that, rather than this being because they were horrible, Jaskier simply missed them too much. 

“Definitely. Ma’s lovely, and brilliant with just everything to do with her hands, but she’s not good with people. I got her looks, though.”

“I should thank her, then,” Geralt said, smiling. 

Jaskier chuckled. “Yes, she’s the reason for the long lives, too, fantastic story.”

“Finish the one about your father and Gwendeith first.”

“Right, so Papa was in Temeria, and so was Iliana’s father, sort of the mayor of Gwendeith, as I understand, although not back then. He’d gotten robbed, though, and Papa had won a horse and quite a lot of gold in a card game. It might have been Gwent, I can’t remember. If you ever meet Papa you should ask him. Anyway, he gave the extra horse and gold to Iliana’s father.”

“So your betrothal was a debt?”

“Goodness, no. This was years before I was born, Papa hadn’t even met Ma yet. No, they struck up a friendship, because when Iliana’s father got home he had a mage send a message to Papa to thank him and they struck up a friendship.”

“Sending messages by mage? That’s expensive for a penpal.”

“Ah well, that actually ties in to the story about Ma. Ma’s got magic, just a little, she’s a hedge witch of a sort. The issue is, hedge witches mostly use plants, and Ma couldn’t grow grass, so she mostly works with wood. Anyway, she has a friend, her very best friend, is a mage. They grew up together, and my Auntie Szarlotta sent my Papa’s first few messages back to Iliana’s father.”

Geralt smiled atop Roach. Jaskier’s storytelling pace was as familiar as Roach’s saddle, and it was calming in a way. 

“So, Auntie was sending Papa’s message when Ma came in to visit. That’s how she met Papa, because she’d only just moved to Lettenhove. Auntie says it was love at first sight, but Papa insists that Ma turned up her nose and ignored him for months.”

“Which one is it?”

“Knowing Ma, probably both. She’s a little like you, so the second she realized she liked Papa she ignored him so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Geralt huffed good-naturedly.

“Anyway, Auntie Szarlotta agreed to send Papa’s messages for free, and she even included a way for Iliana’s father to send them back, so long as he wrote his response on the back of the same paper. She always timed it though, so that Ma was over when Papa was there. And I guess the rest is history.”

“Except the immortality.”

“Right, well, Ma got really sick when she was pregnant with my sister, I was little so I barely remember but Papa was so worried, and Ma looked really pale. Well, Auntie got really worried, freaked out a little, and she found all these old spells to try to make Ma well again. I remeber the light, she was working in a room of the old lighthouse and I could see the light of her spells from my window. Anyway, eventually she tries some on Ma, but they don’t work, and she just keeps trying.”

Geralt had an image of a frantic sorceress being watched by a young Jaskier through a crack in a door. 

“But I suppose some of those old spells need a little time to work because nothing at all worked and then they all sort of worked at once. There was this big, bright light and then Ma was well, and she and Papa haven’t aged a day since then.”

Geralt glanced at his lover, who looked the same at fifty as he had at twenty. “And you don’t age? What about your sister?”

“Ksenia hasn’t aged either. She looks like Papa, just so you know, grey eyes, blonde hair. She’s got two kids, now, but I haven’t met them.”

“Do the kids age?”

“Right now they’re very young,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t stop aging until nineteen or twenty, so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

“How do you know she has kids?”

“Oh, well, Auntie Szarlotta sends letters to me, but we travel and it’s hard to send them right to me, so I just pick them up at Oxenfurt.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. He needed to go to Lettenhove. Jaskier had met his sort-of-family, he should meet Jaskier’s. 

“I’d love to go see them...” Jaskier said, wistfully. 

“Who?”

“My niece and nephew, they’re almost two and three years old now.”

Geralt picked Jaskier up by the collar of his doublet and placed him onto the back of Roach. 

“We’ll spend the winter in Lettenhove this year,” he said as Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist.

“Really?”

“Hmmm.”

Geralt needed to ask Jaskier’s father for his hand in marriage, anyway.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

They made it to Gwendeith just after mid summer, riding into the little town at noon. Despite the season, the little mountain valley was shaded and cool. Jaskier shivered slightly and Geralt had to resist the urge to pull his cloak from his pack. From that point forth, they weren’t supposed to be in love.

Fuck.

They had to request a meeting with the mayor, which didn’t surprise Geralt. In a town such as this, logging and mining were the main industries. Trading for food to last over the winter began early and was of the utmost importance. That left Geralt and Jaskier, unfortunately, sitting with a man who introduced himself as Sir Boris.

Apparently he was a retired knight who acted as a sort of captain of the guard, except there wasn’t much of a guard. His wife Lady Olenka joined them and the two of them talked about their grandchildren until Geralt could feel his eyes rolling back in his head. 

At any other time, Jaskier would have placed one gentle hand on his wrist, which would have fortified Geralt, but they couldn’t. 

“But you’re here for Iliana,” Sir Boris was saying. “Dreadfully sorry you can’t see her today, I’m afraid there’s been an issue with the lumber trade to sort out. You’ll just have to have my darling Lenka and I as company until that’s done.”

He sent a huge wink to his wife, a slim, elegant woman, who chuckled and playfully hit him on the shoulder, to which Sir Boris pretended to be wounded before throwing back his head and laughing hugely. Everything the old knight did was huge, he was a large man with a round, red face and large belly and a laugh that could shake walls. 

“It’s no trouble,” Jaskier said. “I’m sure preparing for winter is a year round project here.”

“Oh of course,” Lady Olenka said. “But once it’s here we can all relax, and spend time with family.” She leaned forward as if imparting a delightful secret and said in a stage-whisper, “Boris has been our town’s Father Winter for the last four years.”

Jaskier made impressed ‘ooh’ noises and Geralt tried to at least look like he understood that. 

Boris laughed again. “It’s this lot,” he said, slapping his round stomach. “Better than some old geezer with a pillow down his shirt, eh?”

Geralt hummed in agreement. 

“And you must make a lovely Mother Winter, Lady Olenka,” Jaskier said politely.

She smiled, lines crinkling around her eyes as if drawing a road map. “It’s not as important as Father Winter, of course, but I rather pride myself that I plan a very good Midwinter festival.” Geralt got the sense that behind the modesty she was quite proud, and, he suspected, with good reason.

“But, you must tell me,” she said, modestly changing the subject. “Is there to be a missus Pankratz, now that you’ve come to see Lady Iliana?”

“I am a man in love,” Jaskier said. “And I am hopeful that an engagement will come soon, yes.”

“Oh dearie that’s just lovely,” Lady Olenka said, patting Jaskier’s cheek. “And you’re such a nice boy too, little young looking to be betrothed to our Lady Iliana anyway, although she’s a very dear woman.”

“We just love her,” Sir Boris said. “She’s a great mayor, not keen on marriage, but nobody minds, she just seems to have adopted the whole town as family.”

Lady Olenka patted her husband’s broad shoulder. “It was smart of you not to bring your love here, though. There’s some nobles here from Lyria, that’s who she’s been trading with, and I think they’d like any excuse to disparage here.” She lowered her voice again. “You know how those lot are about having women in charge.”

“I can’t relate,” Sir Boris laughed. “Lenka’s the ruler in our house.” That got a laugh because it had to, and because Sir Boris’s laugh was surprisingly infectious. 

“Good on you bringing a bodyguard too,” he said once the laughter had abated. He slapped Geralt companionably on the back, which was like being hit by a friendly battering ram. “Witcher too, don’t get many up here, but I bet you’re the safest man in a hundred miles.”

“Oh, dear, don’t you know?” Lady Olenka said. “Lord Julian here is a bard as well, he goes by Jaskier and sings all about witchers.”

“Really?” Sir Boris said, looking at Jaskier. “Blimey, imagine that. Good on you, finding a niche in the market.”

Geralt’s ears were beginning to ache. Friendly though Sir Boris might be, he didn’t seem to have a volume level below ‘deafening’. He was tired and overwrought and he just wanted to cuddle up with Jaskier in a bed. It wasn’t even suppertime, though.

They sat through another hour of hearing about Boris and Olenka’s eighteen grandchildren. 

“And three great-grandchildren,” Boris added proudly.

Geralt was thankful Jaskier could carry the conversation. He longed for a kiss, though. Now that he knew he couldn’t have one, his lips fairly ached for one.

Supper was a large affair, with one of Boris and Olenka’s children’s family over for dinner as well. Geralt was seated across from Jaskier between two small children who, apparently, needed to be separated at dinertimes to prevent bickering. They contented themselves instead by asking Geralt every question they could think of, often making him wrack his brain for child appropriate answers.

It wasn’t just witchering questions, either. He answered such questions as “Why is the sky blue?” (Because it’s Melitele’s favorite color). Immediately before answering “How big are dragon scales?” (The small ones are like pebbles and the big ones are like shields.)

Jaskier smiled at him over his bowl of stew, eyes sparkling. Geralt loved children, and Jaskier loved seeing them adore Geralt.

“So, Lord Julian,” Boris and Olenka’s daughter began. “Your lady love, tell us about her?” She smiled Lady Olenka’s warm smile and Jaskier did a good show of seeming bashful. 

“My love is unlike any other,” he began. “And if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’m a poet, and so must wax poetic.”

“Wouldn’t settle for anything less, lad!” Boris bellowed cheefully.

“My darling has fair hair, like moonlight,” Jaskier said, and the table oohed appreciatively. Geralt felt his ears get hot.

“And eyes like summer,” the bard continued. “I could get lost in them. No eyes could compare.” Geralt kicked him under the table, but Olenka was sighing sympathetically.

“But of course,” Jaskier said slyly, my heart is best held by my love’s lips.”

Boris chuckled knowingly. “I’ll bet it is, my boy,” he said, winking. Olenka slapped his arm, but she was smiling. Geralt felt hot.

“I’m afraid, however that my lover is quite modest, and won’t appreciate me extolling too many virtues,” Jaskier finished. “So I must finish with, I love them very much, and it is for them alone that my heart beats.”

Therewith leaving every person at the table (those above the age of twelve, at least) with misty eyes, Jaskier helped Lady Olenka clean up supper. Geralt helped put the dishes away.

After dinner they were led back to the mayor’s house. “I’m afraid the negotiations don’t seem to be finished,” Lady Olenka said. “I had hoped they would be quick, but it seems not. If the issue wasn’t resolved today, I wouldn’t bet on them being resolved too early tomorrow, either. You two don’t have pressing business elsewhere?”

“No, my lady,” Jaskier said, although if they lingered too long they wouldn’t make it to Lettenhove for the winter, as it was, it would be close.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to see you soon,” the lady said. “Here’s your room, and Master Witcher, your room is just at the far end of the hall.”

She said goodnight and Geralt hoped she couldn’t see the slump of his shoulders.

Separate rooms.

Jaskier smiled ruefully at him and they parted for the night. Geralt’s bed was large and comfortable, with clean linens and feather pillows, but he barely got a wink of sleep.

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

The next morning found Jaskier and Geralt breakfasting in the tavern, owned, apparently, by another of Boris and Olenka’s grown children.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaskier whispered over a plate of sausage and eggs.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink,” Jaskier said. “Want my last piece of bacon? I’m stuffed.”

Geralt took it gratefully, slipping Jaskier his fried slice as a trade. No matter how Jaskier protested that he was stuffed, he always had room for a fried slice.”

“Terrible woman,” said a nasal voice at the next table. “Just impossible to do business with.”

“I agree, overemotional, you know how they get,” agreed another voice. Jaskier made eye contact with Geralt. The accent was Lyrian.

“Not even married,” said the first speaker. “What a disgrace. If my daughter got to her age without children I’d just die of shame.”

Geralt pitied his daughter.

“Oh of course,” said the second man. “Attractive, though, for an old maid.”

The first man snickered cruelly. “Thinking a little wooing might soften her up?”

“It always does, women like that, they’re just angry because they haven’t found a man.”

“Won’t your wife mind?”

“Are you going to tell her?” Both men laughed unpleasantly.

A serving girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, came around the tables, presumably one of Sir Boris’ many granddaughters. She took their plates onto a tray and smiled when Jaskier slipped a few coins onto the tray as a tip.

At the next table  one of the Lyrian’s snapped their fingers impatiently. The girl rolled her eyes. Geralt was pleased to see that, although she served him professionally, as she walked away she ‘accidentally’ tread on his foot.

“What pathetic pieces of shit, the pair of them,” Jaskier said as they stepped out into the sunlight. 

“Hmmm,” Geralt agreed. Then he looked around quickly and pulled Jaskier into an alleyway, urging the bard deeper into the shadows. 

“What? Geralt di-”

Geralt smushed his lips gracelessly to Jaskier’s, crowding him up against the wall. Jaskier’s hair between his fingers was so familiar and comforting, as was the little sigh Jaskier let out.

They pulled apart and Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. “That’ll tide me over for a while,” he whispered. Jaskier smiled.

“Are you master Julian?”

The pair sprang apart, looking in alarm at the red headed boy at the far end of the alley. 

“Yes...?” Jaskier said.

“Only, Pa said to come find you, and he said you’d be with a big man dressed all in black.”

“And you found us here?” Jaskier asked.

“Didn’t know you’d be here, did I?” Said the boy, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s the shortcut through to the tavern, but then, I figured he’s the only big man in black around.”

Geralt inclined his head, feeling his ears go hot.

“Lady Iliana has time to see you now,” the boy continued, oblivious to the awkwardness. 

“By all means...lead the way,” said Jaskier.

They were led out of the alley and back to the mayor’s house by the messenger boy.

“Out of curiosity,” Jaskier asked. “Is your grandad Sir Boris?” 

“Yeah, that’s him,” said the lad. “He made me a toy sword for my tenth birthday too.” He pointed proudly to the wooden sword tied at his hip with some string.

“It makes you look a proper hero,” Jaskier said. Then he pulled out his coin purse. “A copper for bringing us the message and...another to not tell anyone what you saw.”

The boy looked between the two of them shrewdly.

“Not even my best friend? I tell Mikhail everything.”

“Not until Geralt and I have left.”

“Three coppers total,” the boy said promptly. Jaskier handed them over good naturedly and the boy flashed a gap toothed grin before taking off.

Geralt and Jaskier shrugged at each other, before finding their way to the main room of the mayor’s house. A broad shouldered woman of about fifty poked her head out of a door.

“Julian?”

Geralt and Jaskier went inside.

“You look well,” Iliana said, sitting behind a large desk and gesturing to a couple chairs. “You havent’ aged a day.”

“And you look as lovely as I remember,” Jaskier said.

“Flirt. Come to ask me for heirs?”

Jaskier shuddered. “No, my lady. I remember your threat well. I think you know why I’m here.”

The two Lyrians barged through the door. 

“Did I ask you to enter?” Iliana said, coldly. Geralt felt an unusual curl of fear set up in his stomach, she was a distinctly fearsome woman.

“Well,” said the first Lyrian.

“You were so beautiful, I couldn’t wait on seeing you again,” said the second, slimily.

“Oh I say!,” Iliana said, standing. She placed her hand over her chest in a delicately offended way, which was ill suited to her. “You sir are too bold, and in front of my betrothed too!”

The Lyrians looked, panicked, at the people sat in the chairs. As Geralt was seated in the chair nearest the door, and therefore nearest them, they came to the wrong conclusion. The blood drained from both their faces.

“What an insult!” Iliana continued. “You should be ashamed! What a lack of diplomacy!” 

Beside Geralt, Jaskier snickered. She was laying it on a little thick. 

“Why,” she continued. “I ought to write to your king! I’ve never been so insulted. And I’m sure my beloved will want to sort out this insult too.” She fluttered her lashes at Geralt. 

Geralt nearly jumped out of his seat, but thankfully his brain caught up. He stood, growling a little theatrically and placed one hand on the hilt of his steel sword.

“Our apologies my lady,” the first man said hurriedly.

“Our mistake, we’ll just--” they dissappeared out the door.

“What a fearsome couple,” Geralt heard whispered as the door swung shut.

Iliana sighed satisfactedly and kicked her feet up on her desk. “It seems I should thank you,” she said. “That is going to make negotiations much easier.”

“I’m sure you always get good deals,” Jaskier said.

“Yes. I get the deals I want.”

“You know why I’m here,” Jaskier said.

“Yes.”

“Do you agree?”

“To disolve the betrothal? Of course. Never found a lover for myself so I never bothered but, well, I just don’t do romance.”

“Some people don’t,” Geralt said, thinking of Eskel.”

“Indeed,” Iliana said, smiling warmly at him. “Not all of us have a soulmate to sing us songs.” She laughed at their surprised faces. 

“Oh you fooled them, and you may have fooled Boris and Olenka, but I’ve heard your songs, Julian. It’s written right into everything you do.”

She began rummaging in one of the drawers in the desk. “I don’t mind, of course. So few people know we’re actually betrothed...there it is.” She pulled out an old piece of paper. “I’ll just rip it up if that’s fine by you. You’ll have to do the same to yours of course.”

“We’re going to Lettenhove this winter,” Jaskier said. “I’ll do it as soon as I find it.”

Iliana smiled again. “Father always did say that your dad had a horrible filing system.”

“He filed all his papers on the floor, yes, although I imagine my sister is neater.”

Iliana tore the paper in half without ceremony and placed the contract in the waste paper bin. “Lettenhove is very far away, Julian, will you get there in time?”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt. 

“I don’t know,” Geralt said.

“No matter,” said Iliana. She began writing something on a new sheet of paper. “Our logging teams float lumber all down the Dyfne and Pontar rivers. Show this to the dockmaster at the tip of the Dyfne and our riverboat captains can get you to Novigrad.” 

She pulled out another sheet of paper. “Once you’re in Novigrad, show this to the harbormaster and he’ll get you to Lettenhove.” She looked at their shocked faces and smiled. “Our lumber is the best, and it’s used in everything, including ships. I’m willing to cash in a favor in order to get rid of a useless betrothal.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Jaskier said bowing deeply. “I’ll have my Aunt Szarlotta send a message once our betrothal is fully extant.”

Iliana stood and shook his hand. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Our fathers were penpals,” Jaskier said. “Perhaps we should keep up the tradition?” 

The mayor inclined her head. “I’d like that. I may be too busy to write often.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I can only pick up messages when I pass through Oxenfurt, but I like to make friends with powerful people.” 

The two of them shared a smile.

“Not to rush you out my door,” Iliana said. “But I do have a lot to do, winter comes early up here, and I know it does as well in Lettenhove. even with my help, you two should leave soon.”

Geralt and Jaskier left that afternoon, just after a hearty meal at the tavern.

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

Across the continent and some weeks later, Jaskier and Geralt stepped onto the docks in Novigrad.

“I don’t think Roach liked the river boats,” Jaskier said as Geralt led her off. Roach whinnied and shook her mane emphatically.

“Sorry, girl,” Geralt said. “You’ll have another long boat journey, and this time I doubt we’ll stop so you can run about on land.”

“Nah,” Jaskier said, as they walked toward a tavern for supper. “Boats from Novigrad to Lettenhove stop around the coast on the way, she’ll get plenty of exercise. It’s something to do with the currents.”

He petted Roach’s muzzle softly as they stabled her at the inn beside the tavern and Geralt felt his heart go out to his bard. Jaskier cared so much for Roach. Geralt thought again of the gold band in his pack.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

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

Slightly more than a month later, after a slow, coastal boat journey, and then another between Inis Porhoest and Lettenhove, Geralt, Jaskier, and their faithful horse, stepped off the final boat.

“Welcome home, Master Julian,” said a fisherman on the dock.

“Does everyone here know you?” Geralt asked.

“Pretty much, there’s only about three hundred people here.”

News spread fast among three hundred people and Jaskier and Geralt were greeted enthusiastically at the door to the very small castle. A blonde woman who could only be Ksenia, Jaskier’s sister, flung her arms around him, and withing a moment Geralt was being gathered into the hug by a slightly older looking couple.

“Julek,” said the blonde man, pulling back. “My boy, you’re home, and you brought this stunning man, wow, what a looker.” 

“Papa, don’t be embarrassing,” Jaskier said. Geralt flushed clear to the roots of his hair. Apparently when Jaskier said he had his father’s personality he meant all of his father’s personality.

They had dinner as a family, including Jaskier’s niece and nephew, Cecylia and Prot. They had questions for Geralt, and he was grateful for the practice he’d had in Gwendeith. It was an enjoyable meal over all, and afterward Jaskier was distracted by his Aunt Szarlotta while Geralt slipped away to ask Mr. Pankratz a very important question.

The two of them returned to the main hall to see Jaskier pretending to be a dragon, while Cecylia and Prot bravely fought him with butterknives, but he straightened up when he saw the look on Geralt’s face.

Geralt took his hand and Jaskier squeezed it three times, it was their code, asking if Geralt needed to go somewhere that wasn’t so hard on his senses. Geralt smiled and shook his head, swallowing nervously around the lump in his throat.

He got down on one knee and pulled out the gold band. “I’m...I’m not good with words.” Geralt swallowed again, wishing he could borrow Jaskier’s eloquence for five minutes or so. “Marry me?”

The words were barely out from his mouth before Jaskier was tackling him to the ground, pressing kisses all over his face.

“Oh Geralt!” he said. “Wait--”

Jaskier looked up at his mother, who smiled and was handed a paper by his Aunt Szarlotta. Mrs. Pankratz ripped the betrothal contract in half.

“Yes,” Jaskier said, laughing. “I will marry you!”

Then they kissed on the chilly stone floor.

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

Dear Lady Iliana, Mayor of Gwendeith

The former contract has been voided. 

Szarlotta of Lettenhove

P.S. Geralt and Jaskier are engaged and send their love.

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

Holy Cow. 5603 words. I...I don’t even know what to say. I hope you like it.

[crying-over-spilled-feels]

Touch the Sky

Disclaimer: The characters in this drabble are owned by Julia Quinn, Shondaland, and Netflix and are thus not owned by me. In addition, I am also not receiving any monetary gain from this drabble. Based on the Kate and Anthony Week Day One prompt challenge “Riding At Dawn”.

Word Count: 1744

 -------------------

           As the sun barely begins to peek over the horizon at Aubrey Hall, a sudden stirring begins to wake the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton from the most stupendous slumber he has had in at least a week’s time.

“Kaaaate?” Anthony nearly whines, covering his chocolate-colored eyes as his darling wife yanks open the curtains to their bedroom in such an intense gesture that the man barely has time to blink before sunlight infiltrates their safe haven as a couple. “Must we rise so early?” he continues, uncovering his eyes and then taking in the absolutely gorgeous sight of Kate beginning to dress for the morning in a rather exquisite dress of emerald silk.

“You do wish to continue our morning tradition, do you not?” Kate inquires, turning around and fixing Anthony with one of the most seductive smiles she can manage at such an early time of the morning.

“Ah, I do love our morning tradition, my love. However,” Anthony stops mid-thought, pulling Kate backwards by her waist and into his waiting arms, settling his wife against his bare chest and fixing her with an equally suggestive smile. “I can think of several more enjoyable activities that the two of us could turn into a morning tradition now that you have finally been cleared by the blasted doctor following your accident,” the happily married viscount smirks, waggling his eyebrows in the suggestive manner that has been known to make Kate practically swoon.

Not that Kate Sharma Bridgerton would ever admit to swooning, mind you.

“And I think I can wrap my head around what exactly those activities would be, as you rather emphatically showed me the benefit of such a tradition twice last night,” Kate grins down at her husband, leaning in closer to his face and teasing him by letting her lips linger above his brow.

 -----------------

“Will you just kiss me already, you absolute menace of a woman?”

“Hmmm… I might just do that,” Kate Bridgerton murmurs, stroking Anthony’s cheek with one of her extremely soft hands, teasing her husband in all the right ways, turning his eyes alight with what one might call a ferocity of a wild beast. “However, I could just continue to tease you so if it means you will look at me like you are right now,” she flirtatiously challenges, a flame sparking in her eyes as well.

Anthony does not give his wife a moment to think further about it before he reaches up and crashes his lips against hers, barely giving either of them the chance to breath as the practically inhale one another in the kiss. Kate whimpers slightly against Anthony as he begins to move his hands up and down his wife’s spine, one calloused hand coming to rest on the delightful curves of her bottom, giving it a light squeeze in the process.

“I always look at you in that way, Kathani Sharma Bridgerton. As I have told you, my dear, you are the object of all of my desires, and I do believe I let you know that in many, many ways,” Anthony chuckles, his pleasing smile showing on his face before he presses his lips to Kate’s neck, inhaling that tantalizing scent of lilies mixed with her trademark soap. “Now, come back to bed where I can enjoy every last bit of seeing that exquisite gown…..On this floor…”

‘Well,’ Kate begins to think to herself. ‘Perhaps our morning ride can wait after all.’

 -----------------

           After spending nearly an hour longer intertwined with her husband, Kate finally manages to pull Anthony out of bed and convinces him to don something with color for their morning ride. (A feat to stop even the hardest battle-pressed solider in his tracks, to be sure, as prior to his wedding to Kate, Anthony’s wardrobe consisted nearly entirely of blacks and greys.) Walking hand in hand with Anthony out to the stables of Aubrey Hall, Kate accepts his hand and offer for a leg up onto the darling mare named Tulip’s Kiss and waits for Anthony to mount Nectar in turn. Yes, they still had the orange-colored horse since Anthony had bought him for Edwina when he was attempting to court the younger Miss Sharma before he realized the error of his ways and his undeniable attachment to Kate. Since he had freed Nectar from a fate of being sold to the knacker’s yard, Anthony could not simply return the horse after Edwina politely rejected the thoroughbred, so Anthony had simply moved him to Aubrey Hall to make a fine addition to the country home’s impressive stable of horses. After all, hadn’t Hyacinth been begging Simon for a horse since the Duke and Daphne had married a little over a year ago? Now was the time he could best his brother-in-law in the eyes of his youngest sister once and for all!

“Ready to begin, my love?” Anthony questions, not wanting to fall prey to his wife’s tricks once again this morning.

“Of course, I am, dear husband. The question is, are you ready to bite my dust for the thirtieth day in a row?” Kate smirks, grabbing the reins in her hands and preparing to give Tulip’s Kiss the signal to begin running across the hills like a bullet shot from a smoking gun.

“You exaggerate, clearly!” the viscount laughs, though deep down, he fears that this allegation is very and entirely true, as Kate has bested him in nearly ever one of their morning rides which always inevitably turn into races.

“Says the sore loser! We are to begin now!” his viscountess laughs loudly, spurring her mare on, leaving Anthony’s mouth agape as he takes a moment to process Kate’s habitual slight of his horsemanship skills.

“I’m going to catch up to you this time, Kate!” he playfully roars, and had they not been on horseback, Anthony would have made a beeline towards his wife and tackled her into the grass before wrapping her tightly in his arms.

“We shall see about that, Anthony!”

This woman would surely be the death of him, but in the best way possible.

 -----------------

           Following their race, which Kate won, though Anthony would never admit to it, the two enjoy a rather pleasant ride through the hills and vales of Aubrey Hall riding next to each other with a pleasurable silence falling between them. Such was the time that Anthony would point out his favorite landmarks or spots that Edmund took him and Benedict as small children, explaining that he and Kate would have to picnic there soon, that they would have to swim in that lake once it warmed up later in the summer, and with the promise that they would go apple picking in the autumn once the trees bore their sweet fruit. During this time, Kate also pointed out several different species of bird that she knew the common and scientific names of, noting that she is particularly fond of the quails and ptarmigans. It is once again during these times that Anthony Bridgerton is absolutely grateful for the fact that Kate never hid her true self around him and that she was well-read and intelligent so that they could hold very wonderful and magnificent conversations about anything and everything but were still also able to enjoy silent moments between the two of them, simply enjoying the sounds of the creek rushing past them or the wind whistling through their hair and the sprouting May trees. Yes, having such an intelligent wife was definitely a perk of being married to Kathani Sharma Bridgerton, as he would never have to force conversation with her and they were always teaching one another something new.

 ---------------------------

           With the ride concluded around lunchtime, Kate and Anthony retired back to Aubrey Hall in search of some lunch as well as some tea. To his credit, Anthony had been rather interested in trying some of the delectable chai tea that Kate spoke so highly of during their courtship period and engagement while she had been recovering from her accident at Lady Danbury’s house and they spent time promenading throughout Mayfair. When he tried a glass of chai tea crafted by none other than his loving Kate, Anthony had been sold on the idea of chai tea right then and there and decided that he would rather like to travel to India with Kate once they were married and see more of the culture that sculpted his darling bride into the woman before him. However, the chai tea he saved for their time in Aubrey Hall, as it would not do to tell Violet Bridgeton, the matriarch of the family, that he was no longer in need of her to have his tea with a splash of milk and no sugar waiting for him at teatime when the newlyweds came to visit, now accompanied with a filled cup and teapot of ginger cardamom chai tea waiting for Kate.

“Absolutely delicious,” Anthony sighs in content, sipping at his cup of chai tea Kate had made for him as they sat on the ground floor patio. “I love our mornings together, Kate. And I love you more,” he smiles, sneaking a kiss from his wife’s lips as she prepares to raise her own teacup to drink from now that she has poured Anthony’s cup.

“I love you, too, mera pyaar,” Kate whispers, using her affectionate Hindi nickname for ‘my love’ she has started using for Anthony in their tender moments alone. “I hope every morning can start as lovely as these past few months have,” she admits, snuggling into Anthony’s chest as they lie on the outdoor chaise, enjoying their chai before Anthony has to get to work on his accounts for the day.

“They surely shall if this is how you react to them, darling. I would do anything to make you happy.”

“And I you. Now, drink your tea before it grows cold.”

The times that Anthony and Kate can truly be themselves and not simply be the viscount and viscountess society expects them to be is on their daily morning rides where they jump so high, they might as well touch the sky as the breeze blows through their hair. Not to mention, the chai tea really sweetens the deal as well, and that would be a morning habit that is never going to be broken in the Sharma-Bridgerton household, no matter how crazy life may get in the coming years of their long, loving marriage.

 ---------------------------

Author’s Note: Here it is, everyone! My contribution for Day One of Kate/Anthony Week for the ‘riding at dawn’ prompt is completed, and I am rather pleased with how this turned out. Kate and Anthony are definitely my Bridgerton OTP in both the show and the books, so I just had to join in on the festivities this week! The show was phenomenal this season, and I love every last scene that Kanthony had together! (My only criticism is that they did not have more scenes together and that so much time was spent on the “love triangle” between Edwina, Kate, and Anthony as well as on the side-arc of Cousin Jack Featherington. I much rather enjoyed the book plot of Edwina deciding that Kate and Anthony were rather suited and backing off to allow her sister a chance at happiness and in doing so realizing that Mr. Bagwell was the one for her. I was rather rooting for Edwina and Mr. Lumley to end up together in the show-verse since Mr. Bagwell did not seem to exist, but alas. This is why I added the tag book plot canon with show cast canon because I love the plots of the books very, very much but absolutely adore the castings from the show of Regé Jean-Page, Simone Ashley, Charithra Chandran, and Adjoa Andoh!)

[shinigamiplayroom]

19. “You better watch your fucking mouth” for the prompts?

Ghul!! Hai! Thank you for sending this in! 😭💜

19, huh?

“You better watch your fucking mouth.”

(highkey think this number was so fucking yummy)

Okay okay soooo the first character I see for you is Shiggy. And I definitely think he would say this 🥺

You’re sitting on the bed while he’s sitting on the floor. Both of you with controllers in hand playing a game in which you’re solidly holding your own. Makes you feel a lil smug. See, Shig loves to talk shit when you play against each other, before actually going back through the combos with you (once he’s thoroughly crushed you) to teach you what moves you can do to combat the onslaught of attacks his character dishes out.

But today is the motherfucking day, you might actually end up beating him. The fact that you’ve survived this long, parrying, dodging, blocking just like he taught you. He should be proud right? You’re such a good student 😌 You remind him of this, mixing the sound of your chuckles with the sticks and button combos being hit in a symphony of chaos that you can feel his body tensing up from.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. If you can attempt to tilt him enough, he might skew his focus and lose. Sure it might not be fair and square but fuck that, it’s a win. You shift one of your thighs to graze against his shoulder, making his eyes flicker to your legs when you land another successful barrage of hits against his fighter. “Awh gettin a little distracted are we?” He hardly scoffs, already seeing through your little plan, but you could see his jaw tighten. Good.

He wins round one but while the next round starts you lean down and whisper in his ear, “You’re gonna try harder this time, yeah?” It takes him a fraction of a second more to get his character to move this time, giving you an opening to strike first, which carries on through the round, securing your victory in round 2. you were really feeling yourself now. This was working, his fingers swiftly pressing the appropriate buttons to continue the fight without a word. But the heat ebbing off of him was palpable.

Your mind, drunk with the idea of finally beating him, kept your game up. “Winner take all babe, you gonna let me beat you?” One of his hands scratched at the skin of his neck before gripping the controller again, starting the final round. Both of you were so close to winning it could go either way and he was so focused you knew if you didn’t distract him it was highly likely you would lose and never hear the end of it. So you taunted him: “Real close to being my bitch, aren’t ya babe?”

His response took you so off guard you lost track of the buttons you were pressing. He laughed, a full hearty mocking laugh, before turning his head toward you, his eyes locking onto yours while he tapped the last buttons he needed to land a critical strike and massacre your fighter on the screen.

“You better watch your fucking mouth,” he smirked, before tossing his controller on the ground. He was standing between your legs and pushing you down onto the bed in the next moment, “Hmmm…” he growled, “Looks like you’re gonna be my bitch, yeah?”

smut prompt list

[boontaeveboba]

I Have Some Experience

Pairing: Rebels Rex/Fem! Reader

Rating/warnings: NSFW, 18+, swears/insults thrown at reader, angst(?), age gap, PiV (unprotected, wrap it before you tap it, oral (fem receiving), praise kink if you squint

A/N: “old man” Rex can absolutely get it. He would treat you right. Might be a ~lil~ OOC for some characters, but we are BIG “protect Rex at all costs” here. This probably should have been split into more than one part, oopsie.

A deep sob racked your chest. You were trying to calm down, but after the fight with your boyfriend, scratch that, former boyfriend, you were feeling emotionally drained.

You weren’t exactly sure who the room you were in belonged to, the resistance fleet was scattered on various ships, you stole away to the closest unoccupied quarters you could find. A small room with a table, chairs and bunk, otherwise completely bare, greeted you.

You were so tired and angry, the breakup had been longtime coming, you thought it would have gone better. The insults he threw at you stung. You wanted to part as friends, both still working in the fight against the Empire, but all he had was resentment and spite towards you.

The door flew open, startling you, and a large figure came in.

“Well, hello,” a gruff voice asked “are you lost little one?”

You looked up meeting the face of none other than the old clone captain, Rex.

You ran the back of your hands over your cheeks, desperately wiping away tears. You jumped up, quickly realizing you were in his room.

“Captain!” You said to him, “ I am so sorry! I didn’t realize this was yours! I apologize, I’ll get out and-“

He quirked his head to the side and placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey hey, slow down, kid,” his voice was calm and reassuring, “what’s this all about, hmmm?”

Embarrassed to be caught crying, you weren’t sure how to respond. You just wanted to leave him in peace. His eyes crinkled up in a smile as he gave you a kind and reassuring look.

“Hey, why don’t you sit down,” He pulled out a chair and sat next to the one you had been occupying. “We have a little bit of time before the next briefing, why don’t you tell me what’s upset you so?”

His expression was very warm. You had heard all about the clone commanders found by the Ghost crew, and knew his backstory from Ahsoka, but you didn’t expect him to be so...so friendly. Surely a war hardened clone wouldn’t care about a nobody such as you.

“It’s alright.” Rex pat the chair next to him again. “Or you can leave, if you’d like, whatever makes you the most comfortable.”

You blinked at him. Deciding, that maybe, it was okay to talk about your problems with another, at least for a bit. It might make you feel better. Rex made you feel, more at ease, than you might have expected.

“Now,” Rex prompted again, “if you don’t mind me asking, why were you crying?”

You let out a big sigh, folding your hands in your lap, not making eye contact with him...yet, finding an interest in picking at a loose string on your pants.

“I just broke up with my boyfriend,” you began “and it did not go well.”

“I see,” Rex said simply. He put his hand on your shoulder again, giving you a reassuring pat. “I’m sorry,”

“I thought he would be more understanding,” you continued, yanking the string away and balling it up in your fist, “it’s so hard and scary sometimes, and we’re even fighting for the same cause! But it doesn’t feel like we’re on the same page!”

You paused before saying, “well I guess ‘were’ on the same page.” You let out a shaky laugh.

Rex laughed along with you. “Already making jokes? Maybe it can’t be all bad?”

You met his gaze and gave him a pained look.

He looked apologetic. “I’m sorry!” He blurted out. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive!”

“It’s alright,” you said, gaze falling back to your lap.

“No it isn’t,” Rex continued. “I’m just...” he sighed in frustration, “well relationships, civvie relationships, anyway, aren’t really my specialty,”

You shot him an understanding look. You knew he was trying to be helpful.

“I know it’s hard and love and trust is difficult, but seeing you smile, I thought maybe that meant you were feeling better. But that was wrong, and I truly apologize for that.”

His large hand, slowly reached for one of yours, making you look up at him.

“I didn’t mean to offend or make you feel worse.” He said.

“I know,” your other hand coming to encompass his. “It’s just all sudden, and it feels so insignificant,” you let go of his hands to gesture all around you, “in the grand scheme of things. I mean, we’re in the middle of a kriffing war!”

You permitted yourself a small laugh, and Rex smiled again.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” you continued. “But I thought, we would be on better terms. As friends you know?”

Rex nodded in understanding and you continued.

“It would make things so much easier, with the Rebels being such a small group, to get along, but I don’t think that will happen.”

Rex quirked an eyebrow at you.

“He was so mean about it. He called me names.”

You felt tears begin to gather in your eyes, and you put your head in your hands, trying to hold back from crying more, especially in front of Rex.

Cautiously, Rex let his hand rest on your back, before rubbing small circles of comfort as you began to cry again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You said jolting up out of the chair. You raced towards the door. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with this! I’ll go back to my room,” your face fell as the realization hit.

Rex stood up, moving slowly towards your frozen in place body.

“Kid?” He asked.

“I can’t,” oh stars, how am I going to do this, “we shared a room, I have to find a way to ask for another...”

Resources and ships were few and far between, and you did not want to burden anyone with such a silly request.

“Hey,” Rex said softly, now standing close to you. “It will be alright,” he paused, “you can bunk with me for now.”

What?! No way!

“Captain, with all due respect, no.” You looked up at him. “I can’t do that to you, not after everything you’ve done. You deserve your own space.”

“Come on, I don’t mind” Rex said, now smiling. “I have two bunks in here, you can pick whichever you’d like.” He walked over to the wall, were you now realized there were in fact two beds, one above the other.

You shifted your weight between your feet nervously.

“At least until we can find you your own space,” Rex said. “It will let you find some peace on your own, away from that man, for now.”

“I don’t want to impose,” you began, now feeling guilty for invading the clone captain’s space.

“Not to worry!” He said reassuringly. “I’ve been bunking with Gregor and Wolffe for years, this is just like being back in the Seelos system!” He joked and his eyes lit up in laughter and memories.

You shifted your weight again, mentally weighing your options, you had none really.

“Okay,” you finally agreed, “but I’m serious, I want you to feel comfortable in your own space, if you want the room to yourself, or me gone, I’m gone.”

Rex chuckled. “I seriously doubt that will happen,”

You rolled your eyes not believing him for a second.

“Deal?” Rex asked, extending his hand to you.

“Deal,” you responded clasping your smaller palm to his.

————————

Months later, battles and dangerous missions flew by, in addition to a few close calls, and you still remained in your shared room with Captain Rex.

Things were actually going well with the two of you. You told him more about the breakup and yourself, he told you tales of the Clone Wars and his brothers, never going into too much detail about them. You sensed his sadness and mourning for the soldiers lost in war.

You were making your way back to the shared room one evening when you passed your ex and one of his friends.

Trying to be cordial; you had only seen each other in briefings, barely making eye contact, you nodded in silent acknowledgement at him.

“Whore.”

Your spine went ramrod straight. And you whipped around.

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” your ex sneered at you, his friend trying to conceal a laugh behind his palm.

“I don’t know what you could be talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re shacking up with that old man,” he spat at you. “Broke it off so you could get some old man dick?”

“Disgusting.” His friend said to you. “Fucking a clone? An ancient one at that.”

They laughed.

You saw red, swearing to yourself you wouldn’t resort to violence, your fist balled at your side.

“I don’t know why you would ever insinuate something like that, but that’s disrespectful, not only to me, but more to Captain Rex.” You said to them.

“What has he ever done to help the rebellion?” Your ex said “he’s an old war relic, no longer useful, they only keep him around because Ahsoka Tano used to be his friend.”

“Still is his friend.” You heard a voice behind you say.

The two boys faces went pale and you saw Ahsoka herself brush past you staring them down.

“Captain Rex has done more in his lifetime than you will ever hope to accomplish with yours.” Ahsoka said. “You would do well to remember that.”

Unable to respond, she continued.

“You should probably apologize.”

“Sorry Commander Tano.” One said.

“Yes, we’re very sorry.” The other echoed.

“You’d better remember this conversation for a long time.” Ahsoka said.

“Yes, sir!” They said and scrambled to leave.

“You alright?” Ahsoka asked, now turning her attention to you.

“Yeah,” you nodded sheepishly. “Thank you, by the way.”

A small smile was granted to you. “Any friend of Rex is a friend of mine.” Ahsoka said, laying a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Don’t let those moof milkers get to you.”

You nodded back, a little awestruck the Ahsoka Tano had defended you.

“Tell Rex ‘Hi’ for me, okay?” She asked.

“I will,” you nodded, prompting another smile from her.

“See you around,” she gave you a two finger salute and walked away.

———

Back in the room, on your top bunk, you scrolled endlessly through your datapad, not really paying attention, the insult from earlier still stinging.

The door opened, alerting you of Rex’s presence. He shrugged off his armor, and jacket, carefully laying it on the table and sat in a chair to untie his boots.

It was a simple routine and familiarity you both knew, you knew soon Rex would ask you about your day, you would ask about his, the conversation would ebb and flow before winding down announcing ‘lights out’.

“What’s wrong?” Rex’s voice broke your attention.

“What?” You leaned over the edge, meeting his gaze from the chair.

“You seem...” he searched for the right word, “distracted and slightly on edge,”

Better get to the inevitable.

“I ran into him today,” you began.

Rex stood up and came to the side of your bunk. His head level with the mattress.

“You have been in the same room in briefings, did he try anything?” His eyes searched yours with concern.

“He called me a whore.”

Rex felt anger deep in his chest, but kept his eyes locked on you.

“But Commander Tano came to my aid. She says ‘hi’ by the way,” a soft smile making its way to your face.

You slid past Rex and sat your shared table.

Rex turned his attention to you, “Ahsoka is a good friend,” his fist clenched, “but what about that first part?”

You really didn’t want to repeat it. It had really hurt. And you didn’t want to explain that he thought you were fucking your bunk mate.

But it’s Rex.

“He called me a whore.” You repeated, not meeting his gaze.

“That no good, lously little-“ Rex slammed his fists down on the table.

His gaze softened, turning to you. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Cyar’ika,”

You nodded, and Rex noticed a tear rolling down your face.

He knelt in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” Rex began, “I didn’t mean-“

“It’s not you Rex,” you said, laying a hand on his shoulder, “it’s him, words really hurt. And the insulation of-“

Rex cut you off, by placing a palm to your cheek and wiping the lone tear away.

“That boy is nothing more than that, a di’kut.” Rex said softly, “his words should wield no power over you,”

You looked down at him, “I wish that were true, but words still hurt.”

Wordlessly, Rex raised slightly and embraced you. His strong arms holding you close to his chest.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace.

Rex was a good man, he had been so supportive and kind to you from the beginning.

He pulled away, giving you a reassuring smile. As the two of you had come to know each other, he began to admire your strength and resilience, he hated seeing you cry.

“Oh! I have something for you,” Rex said reaching back to his jacket on the table. “This should make the day a little better!”

Riffling his hand through a pocket, he held out an object, wrapped in a piece of cloth, to you “Go on,”

You slowly peeled away the fabric, revealing an Uj Cake. Your face lit up. You stared wide eyed at Rex.

“How did you get this?”

“I have my ways,” Rex said shooting you a wink.

Your cheeks flushed.

“This is so kind of you, thank you, Rex.”

He smiled holding the cake out to you.

“Well go on, try it!”

You broke off a small piece and popped it in your mouth.

You let out a moan, it had been so long since you tasted something so sweet.

Rex shivered at the noise you made, unnoticed by you.

“You have to try it!” You said in delight, pushing Rex’s palm back towards himself.

He set the cake on the table and broke off his own bite.

“This is good!” He exclaimed.

You laughed, watching delight spread across his face.

“I guess we can share,” you laughed scooting your seat closer to his, breaking off another portion for yourself.

“It’s so sweet!” You exclaimed taking another bite.

“Just like you,” Rex said.

Did he?

Rex froze, you had heard it.

You didn’t want him to be uncomfortable and took initiative.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Rex.” You placed a reassuring hand to his forearm that laid on the table. “Thank you.”

Rex relaxed slightly. Eating another piece of cake, nodding and humming in contentment.

You studied the man next to you. He had been nothing but kind to you since you accidentally stumbled into his room. He was broad and strong, years of living off the grid and his accelerated aging making him tough. You found yourself squeezing his forearm again, unaware of the action, now causing the captain’s cheeks to flush.

He turned to you, eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place, a sad smile breaking out across his face.

“I wish I never had to see you upset. You are sweet and kind and such a valuable asset to the Rebellion” He told you.

You smiled at him. “You’re so nice to me, I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you. Especially when you say things like this.” You looked down at your hands as you felt a warmth wash over you.

“Every word of it is true, Cyar’ika,” he lifted a large hand to palm your cheek, “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

You leaned into his touch, meeting his gaze again. You felt your heart swell at his words, how lucky you felt to know him. His eyes still held that same glow of kindness and...

“May I ask you something?” Rex asked, interrupted your thoughts.

You laughed. “You just did.”

Rex laughed too, “well, another then?”

You nodded.

“May I...kiss you?”

Now you were sure you were blushing. The warmth of your face heating up ran a course through your entire body before settling on your face.

Kiss?

You hadn’t been kissed since...since your ex, but a kiss from Rex. From the man who had shown you nothing but respect and kindness and how to be a strong fighter. Well...

Rex noticed your quizzical expression. He felt he had messed up.

She’s uncomfortable now! Quick, apologize, salvage what relationship you have left! His mind yelled at him.

“I don’t see why not,” you finally responded, breaking Rex free of his panicked mind.

Deciding not to think about it too much anymore, Rex rose from his seat, slightly and placed a kiss to your cheek, his beard tickling your face, before pulling away.

You ran your hand up to where his lips had been.

He was waiting for more of reaction and settled back into his chair.

You looked at him, remaining expressionless, looking back at those soft amber eyes, trying to figure out the look...when it hit you.

“That’s it?” You asked.

Rex was taken back, “what do you mean ‘that’s it?”

“Captain Rex, I recognize the look you’re giving me and that is not the kiss that you wanted.” You told him.

He ran a hand over his head, weighing his options.

Of course he had wanted to kiss you! The two of you spent months on end together! Rex watched as you healed your broken heart by helping out in ways only you could. Offering to go on dangerous missions, wanting to be out there, helping people. You were growing to be a better person. The two of you had bonded over stories before bed. Kriff, bed. Rex might not be the young trooper he once was, but he had thoughts and desires too.

He loved the way you lit up talking to him. How your hand would reach for his, seeking and providing reassurance. You could exist within the same space wordlessly, just enjoying each other’s company. You saw him as an equal, not some old clone, a relic of a bygone era.

And yes, he had thought on more than one occasion about you, fucking on his bunk, riding him in one of the chairs or what you might sound like when you came, but he had never acted on it. But now, seeing you flustered by his praise (of which he had meant every word) something broke in him. He had to act.

He was going to kiss you, properly this time.

He raised back up, but kept his face level with yours. This time his lips met yours.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back.

“Just as suspected. Sweet as Uj cake.” Rex mumbled against your lips.

You allowed yourself to giggle against his mouth.

He hummed in response, using the opportunity slip his tongue between your lips.

Still kissing you and exploring your mouth, Rex hooked a foot around his chair and brought it closer so that he could sit and be almost level with you. He was taller than you, so he had to angle down a bit, but now that he was seated, he ran an arm from your shoulder to your hand, while the other gripped the back of your head.

You moaned into his mouth feeling the pressure of his hand at the base of your skull. One of your hands reached out and fisted his black shirt.

Rex moved his hands from high up on your body to your hips. He dragged his palms along your thighs before going under your knees.

He looked at you and wordlessly, you understood. He helped you slide off your chair into his lap. He was stronger than you previously thought. Your legs were now straddling his large thighs.

His head came forward, placing another soft kiss to your lips.

“Is this okay?” He asked you searching your face for a possible change in expression.

You smiled at him. “This is wonderful, Rex.”

He let out a sigh of relief. He worried he had been too forward.

You watched as a more relaxed look fell over him. You knew he would never push you. Your sweet Rex, always looking out, taking care of you.

How far would that care extend?

A smirk fell upon your face.

Of course you had thought about him, you two spent so much time together you felt it was inevitable. But the extend of care and support he gave you, melted your heart.

“Rex?” You asked, scooting your hips further up his lap.

He tried hard not to let out a groan, you were so close, his cock now growing harder, almost pressed against you. There was no way you weren’t going to notice.

He looked at you, curious of your next move, his hands settling on your waist.

“Would you like to do more than kiss?” You asked in sultry tone.

He squeezed your hips, moving you forward to drag you against the bulge in his trousers.

“Yes,” he hissed out, eyes closing as you ground against him.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked.

“I’d certainly like to fuck you,” he began placing kisses on down your neck, “if you’d let me,”

You bucked your hips at his words. Cupping his face in your hands, you captured his mouth in a searing kiss.

“I’d like that very much,”

The familiarity of the warm amber in his eyes was replaced by blown out pupils.

“Let me show you,” he began, nipping your collar bone and palming your ass, “how a real man fucks.”

You shuddered in anticipation, a familiar warmth pooling between your legs.

“Wrap your legs around me, little one,” Rex said breathily.

You raised your legs and interlocked your ankles around his waist.

Trailing his hands down your arms, he grabbed and brought them to his neck. 

Clinging tightly to him, Rex rose from the chair, one hand cupping your ass, the other wrapped around your shoulders. Once again, his strength surprised you and he kissed you again.

His legs hit the back of his bunk and he slowly sat down, you remained attached to him, his tongue now darting in your mouth capturing each moan and whimper you let out. 

You unhooked your legs, letting them rest outside of Rex’s and began grinding your hips down to his. Your body jolting as you felt his length twitch against you through his pants.

Rex groaned and grasped your hips to still you. You paused, meeting his smoldering gaze.

“Oh Cyar’ika,” He began, his hands finding the bottom of your shirt, “we’ll get to that, let me take care of you first,”

You nodded, placing a brief kiss to his temple.

“May I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt.

“Please,” 

He complied, discarding the garment  to the floor.

“Krifffff...” Rex groaned out cupping your breasts. His rough hands then dragging the straps down your shoulders. He licked a stripe from your clavicle to your breast bone, reaching around to rid you of your bra.

With your top half entirely bare to him, his mouth captured one nipple, while his other hand groped the other.

You ran you fingers along his scalp as he switched his attention to the other.

You squirmed against his hips again, craving some sort of relief.

“Rex, please.” 

You ran your hand along the waistband of his pants, but he caught your wrist.

Bringing his face level with yours he shook his head ‘no’.

You whined, grinding your hips again.

He smiled and pulled his shirt over his head.

Your jaw dropped, you knew clone’s had an accelerated aging process, but Rex was still incredibly toned. You ran a palm across the expanse of his chest, feeling the muscle rippling underneath.

His watched you with gentle eyes, still caressing your chest. While you marveled at him, his hand now traveled down to the waistband of your own pants.

“I’d like to try something with you.” He half explained half asked, fumbling with the fabric keeping you covered.

You gazed at him curiously. 

“I’d like you to sit on my face.”

The heat immediately rose to your cheeks. 

No one had ever wanted you to do that before.

“I wont’t hurt you will I?” You asked, becoming self conscious. 

“Not at all,” Rex assured. 

You nodded to him, and moved off his lap.

Shifting higher up the bunk and moving to lay horizontally, Rex laid down, kicking his boots off in the process.

You followed his action, slowly scooting closer to him.

“Take you pants and underwear off, please.” Rex said.

After doing as he asked, Rex moved so you could sit next to his shoulder.

“Still okay?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said, the shakiness of your voice not lost on him.

“Up.” Rex commanded gently and you moved to straddle his head, hovering above his face on your knees.

Rex gently massaged the back of your thighs while he placed kisses along the insides.

“Relax,” he said softly, “I’ve got you.”

You looked down, admiring the way his biceps bulged as he held you. You slowly sank lower.

Rex ran a his tongue flat against you, causing you to shudder, his hands still gently gripping you.

Another lick, then you felt light pressure against your walls as he made broader swipes in you.

You let out a low moan.

Firmly gripping the back of your thighs, Rex yanked you down closer to his face, his beard tickling you lightly, while his tongue explored more and more of you. One hand anchored you in place, while the other reached around to rub your clit as his tongue began making swirling motions.

You rocked your hips ever so slightly against his face, causing Rex to let out a low moan of his own.

“You taste better than a fucking Uj cake, mesh’la,” Rex said “more sweet than anything.”

Your eyes screwed shut savoring every word and feeling every movement below you, it wasn’t long before you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, while Rex sucked on your clit.

You cried out as you orgasmed. Rex, lapping up every bit, as you rode out your high. 

Finally stilling, you moved away from his mouth, noticing the shine coating his lips. 

Gently, he helped you off, you laid next to him, the warmth of his body radiating against you.

His eyes sparked with happiness and he gazed at you with endearment. 

“That was wonderful, little one,” he kissed you softly “better than I could have ever hoped for,”

“You hoped for that?” You asked wide-eyed.

Rex smirked. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear and you leaned into his touch.

Before he answered, you felt a twitch against your leg.

You both looked at the bulge straining between you.

Unable to stop you fast enough, you cupped as much of him as you could in your palm.

Rex gritted his teeth and rubbed against you.

“Won’t you let me return the favor?” You asked.

He smiled, still moving against your hand, “as much as I would love that, I’d like being inside you much more.”

You we’re taken back slightly by his decline of your offer.

“Only if you are still okay with that,” Rex searched your face for permission.

He was so much better than any partner you may have had in the past, asking for permission, checking in. You looked at him in admiration.

And you then you felt it. The feeling of knowing how deeply you cared for Rex, and he did for you, this affirmed it. Things would be different between the two of you from this point on, for the better.

”Rex,” you began, he turned his full attention to you.

”I need you to fuck me now.”

He laughed. 

Rex reached down tugging off his bottoms and undergarments. His cock, free from the confines, bobbed to attention. 

Kriff he was big...

Before he could stop you, you licked him from base to tip.

A hand clasped your shoulder, and you turned your attention back to his face.

“Next time,” Rex promised you, grinning. 

You smiled back, your fingers lightly running over his shaft.

“How would you like it?” Rex asked you.

“Lie back,” You told him.

 Moving back to a similar position from earlier, he laid back on the bed, watching you.

You straddled him, his length pressing against your cunt, and you rubbed against him.

Once more, Rex reached for your wrist, grabbing it gently. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Yes.” 

He sat up to pressing a searing kiss to your lips. One hand guiding his cock to your entrance, teasingly pressing the tip against your wet folds.

You rocked your hips, sitting up more.

“Ready?” He asked you in-between kisses.

“Please, Rex,” you whined.

Slowly, he entered you, a guttural groan rang out from deep within his chest.

“Kriff, you’re tight,” he breathed out, as you sank slowly onto him.

He was bigger than you expected, and you enjoyed taking every in every inch, til he was fully sheathed inside.

Still halfway sitting up, Rex moved his hips experimentally.

“Fucking hells, Rex!” You cried out feeling his shaft deep in you, “I can feel every little move you make!” 

He felt you clenching around his length, moving his hips again, withdrawing himself, before slamming back into you.

You moaned again. 

You mirrored his movements with your hips, and the two of you falling into a rhythm. 

Keeping one hand to brace himself, the other traveled from your chest down to your clit, as Rex rocked himself into you. He placed kisses along your neck and collar bone.

“Oh Cyar’ika, oh Kriff, you feel so good,” Rex moaned against your mouth.

“Rex,” you began, feeling his cock and fingers work you over and over, “I’m so close, I-” your head began to loll back, anticipating the upcoming rush of pleasure. 

“Oh, mesh’la,” Rex groaned out,” ‘m close too, where should I?”

“Inside me,” You rocked you hips, “It’s okay, I have the-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, because Rex’s pace increased and you watched his mouth fall slack as he reached his own high. Watching him come undone sent you over the edge quickly.

“Rex!” You cried out, your face falling into the crook of his neck, his arms circling around you, holding tight you as you came back down.

He was running his hands down though your hair and down your spine, mumbling bits of Mando’a phrases and praises to you, slowing the rocking of his hips. 

Finally, stilling your movements, you raised your head to kiss him.

His eyes shone in lust and admiration.

“That truly was something Cyar’ika.” 

“I could say the same for you,” You giggled.

Slowly, he pulled out of you, slick coating both your thighs he laughed softly.

“A lovely and welcome mess,” He glanced at you, and cupped your cheek, “is that...was that alright?”

You smiled, “Of course it was!” You placed a kiss to his palm and fell back into his caress.

A full grin broke out on his face. He pulled you close.

“Thank you,” He whispered.

You giggled, “I should be the one thanking you Rex,”

“Oh?”

“You let me in a long time ago, and you've taken care of me since,”

He pulled back, titling your chin to look up at him.

“And I plan to continue doing just that,” and he kissed you again.

[embywolf]

Zelink Week Day 5: Domesticity

Okay so here goes: I suck with grammar stuff, maths/physics are not my strong point, I know nothing of birthing and I've never written anything for fun like this. I had the idea a while ago and it might not work as I decided to try and fit that idea into the prompt for today. I'm very nervous to be posting this and I may well delete it later but for now, here is my first ever attempt. Also no idea how to format it on Tumblr, or at all if I'm being honest but figured I'd add a line as this came out longer than I expected ^_^;

I'm rambling now, can you tell? *Hovers over post button*

_________________________

Day 5 – Domesticity

She had his hand in a vice like grip, knuckles turning white. It ached, but not as much as his heart did at the sounds of her panting and pained screams. He kissed the side of her head where her hair was matted to her face with sweat. His emotions were all over the place but at the same time there was nowhere else he would rather be right now. As much as he hated her to be in any form of pain, he knew it was temporary and would be so worth it.

He murmured into her ear “You’re doing so, so well my love. Not much longer now, you can do this”

She panted hard and fast, anticipating the next contraction. He was perched on the edge of her bed, one leg laid straight alongside her, the other on the floor. He had one arm around her shoulders, hand rubbing soothing motions down her arm while the other was either placed on her stomach or, when her contractions started up again was held tightly in her grip for support.

From her parted legs and bent knees, Impa, her most trusted and loyal friend peeked above the white sheets that were draped over her. She grinned at the both of them before looking straight into Zelda’s eyes “I can see the crown! Another few good pushes and she’ll be with us”

Zelda whimpered. She was so very tired; she wasn’t sure how much more pushing she could do. As if Link had read her mind he spoke softly against her cheek “I know you tired, love. You’re so strong and we’ll soon get to meet our little girl. A few more pushes, can you do that for me?”. Zelda nodded, heaving out a massive breath as she could feel the tension of another contraction beginning.

“Zelda, I need you to give a nice big push with your next contraction” Impa urged. Zelda clenched Link’s hand once again as the contraction came over her. She strained and grunted so hard into the push that her whole face became red and heated and Link couldn’t help but be in awe of her strength. He didn’t think it was possible to love her more than he did right now in this moment.

Although the pregnancy wasn’t exactly planned, they both knew that they had wanted children together eventually. It was a given knowing that she was the reigning sovereign of Hyrule and it was expected of her to have an heir. As was tradition, there always had to be a Zelda successor, so as soon as they found out about the pregnancy everyone had begin called the baby Little Zel (they hadn’t officially decided on a name if they weren’t sticking with tradition, but it was better than called her an ‘it’ or ‘she’).

“Good girl, keep pushing!” Impa urged, the excitement rising in her tone “Her heads out! Continue your panting until you feel the need to push again.”

Link placed the hand that had been running up and down her arm to the side of her head, pushing lightly to encourage her to rest her head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes and run his hand through her hair, humming quietly in an attempt to try to sooth his wife. His wife! How did he end up so lucky? He thought absently.

“Link?” Zelda breathy voice broke through his thoughts

“Hmm?” He stopped his humming at the sound of her voice, opening his eyes to glance at her.

“Thank you for being here for me… for us” she says, placing one hand on her belly. He kissed her sweaty forehead and looked deeply into her eyes “There is no place in the entire world that I would rather be right now. Thank you for letting me be here for the birth of our girl – our daughter, Zelda.”

Her lips curled up in a brief smile and she hummed contentedly at his words before her face scrunched again as her next contraction overcame her.

“One more big push” Impa exclaimed and Zelda tensed her shoulders, sat up slightly and heaved.

“Hear that, Zel? One more big push and she’ll be with us” he was rubbing circles between her shoulder blades now, doing what little he could to somehow try and ease even a fraction of her pain.

“Keep pushin-“ Impa was interrupted as Zelda let out a noise between a shout and a wail. An ear-piercing cry broke out into the room as Little Zel took her first breaths of Hyrulian air.

“She’s here!” Link choked on a sob, catching Zelda in his arms as she flopped back on the bed, panting hard.

“She certainly is!” Impa grinned as she tended to the new born babe. She had checked her airway to ensure it is clear and listened to her strong heartbeat. “She’s a healthy, beautiful baby-“ she started as she began to wrap her up ready to present her to her parents when Impa noticed something… unexpected… “boy” she gasped out in surprise.

Impa placed the boy in his mothers arms who had tears flowing down her face and the biggest smile graced her features. She bundled the baby up looking lovingly down into his face and said in the most heart-warming voice “Hello my boy” she breathed out in a sort of laugh sob “hello ourboy” – she was looking at Link now who was freely crying and looking between both his son (his son! Hylia, he has a son!) and his wife. He placed his hand on top of the babies head, cupping it slightly and rubbing the fine, sand coloured hair there as Zelda leaned in towards him. He kissed Zelda’s head again and looked down at the bundle in her arms, awed and stunned. He was swept up in the feelings of love and pride in the strength of his wife growing this beautiful little life in her body and going through the pain of birthing. “Hello, son” he said in a breathy whisper.

---------

“What does this mean, Impa?” Zelda asked as she nursed her son, who apparently had the appetite of his father. Link was still sat beside her on the bed watching Zelda take to motherhood like a natural, completed besotted with his little family.

“I.. I’m not sure” Impa stood at the foot of the bed which had since been cleaned since the birth. “I plan on speaking with the elders and consulting some of our Sheikah texts to see if this has ever happened before in our history. I suspect not, something this significant would surely be common knowledge among us.”

Link glanced up at this “So you think that Zelda having a son is significant in the eyes of the goddess and not merely a matter of biology?”

“You know the legends as well as I, Link. You know that Hylia incarnate is always female as is the nature of maternal bloodlines” Zelda wasn’t looking at either him or Impa, she was fascinated watching her boy as he greedily suckled. She didn’t care either way that he way a boy, he was hers and she was so totally and utterly in love with him.

“Now that I know he is nursing properly I think it is time to take my leave and investigate this little miracle” Impa smiled warmly “it is also advisable that baby has skin on skin contact with his parents to help with bonding” She looked pointedly at Link “Both his parents”. She stepped towards the door before looking back at the little family “Oh, and your highness? I think you may need to consider a different name for him. Little Zel hardly seems to suit him, don’t you think?” She grinned and made her way out through the door, leaving both doting parents cooing over their new addition.

Once they were alone the little Hylian hiccupped softly, Zelda looked towards Link with pride in her eyes as he stared down at the boy and laughed lightly at the cute noises he was making. “I think it’s time this little one gets some bonding time with his father, don’t you?” She said as she shifted on the bed, cradling the baby gently and holding him out to Link. For a brief moment the baby wriggles at the change in position, stretching his limbs before snuggling up into the crook of Link’s arm. He yawns and one of his outstretched arms meets with Links hand, his tiny fingers curling around one of his fathers. Link choked on a sob as Zelda rests her head on his shoulder

“We need to name him”

“A significant name for a significant boy”

“What do you suggest?” He asks gently, her face falters at that. She has no idea. Neither does he.

“I.. I really don’t know. Any names I can think of are all girls names and that would be assuming we broke with tradition and didn’t use Zelda. Like Hope or Harmony – something that signifies the fact he was born after the calamity was vanquished.”

“You say something significant, right?” To which Zelda nods “What about ‘Rise’ as in surp-rise? After all he certainly is a surprise”. “Link please, be serious.” She looked at him with a raised brow.

“Okay, what about Finn. As in the end of the calamity?”

“No, he doesn’t look like a Finn”

“Miri like ‘Miracle’?”

“Nope”.

“Hmmm” Link ponders for a while, mummering to himself “He was born in a time of peace, where balance has been restored and tranquillity reigns –“ Link cuts himself short. “What about Quill? As in Tranquillity. That’s what his birth represents Afterall, tranquillity after a hard-won battle”

Zelda looks into the face of the child in his arms, sleeping peacefully nestled against his chest. “You know, I quite like it. It suits him. What do you think, Quill?” Zelda smiles after testing the name out loud and as if he was in agreement one of the babies cheeks scrunched up adorably, the edge of his mouth raising slightly as if he was smiling.

---------

Once Zelda and Quill had been given the all clear by the Doctors the new family were allowed to leave the infirmary and go back to their suite. Quill had been sleeping soundly in the bassinette that was placed by Zelda’s side of the bed which gave Zelda chance to rest herself. She was exhausted and sore, and as much as she wanted to keep just staring at her new son her body was struggling to stay awake. She fell asleep listening to Quills gentle breathing as Link was emptying the bags that they had taken with them to the infirmary when her labour had started. As he went to put something away in their bedroom, he noticed that Zelda had fallen asleep and stood leaning against the doorframe to just watch and take in the beautiful sight before him. While they slept Link showered to try and wake himself up a little. Zelda’s labour had been intense and long lasting, he has stayed up with her throughout it all and he was determined to let her rest while he took care of the both of them.

He came out of the bathroom with his hair down and messy from being towel dried, said towel draped over his shoulders to avoid getting his bare back soaked. He was wearing only his trousers as he busied himself around the room. He stopped what he was doing when he heard Quill start to stir and he seen Zelda’s face twitch slightly as if she was about to rouse from her sleep. Deciding she had had nowhere near enough rest yet Link picked Quill up from his basket and held him against his chest mumbling slightly as to not wake her.

“I’m here, little one” he said softly. “Mummy is resting right now and we need to be quiet to let her sleep, okay?”. He walked to the other side of the bed where he carefully lay down beside Zelda, his back propped against the pillows and his son resting against his chest. The boy calmed down upon contact with his father as Link patted his back soothingly. Quill burped then bunched his hands in the towel around Links shoulders who let out a small chuckle and began stroking his back softly. This repetitive and calming motion lulled both to sleep and it was Zelda that roused first, opening her eyes to the sight of Link and Quill snoozing together. It struck her then just how much like Link he is, he certainly had his hair and maybe his eyes. From the little glimpses Zelda had gotten his eyes looked like they may be blue but he had his mother’s nose and the same chubby cheeks that Zelda had had as a child.

She lay there in silence, enjoying the moment when a soft knock came at the door. Link roused from his nap and Quill stirred but didn’t awaken. “Come in” Zelda spoke softly but loud enough to be heard through the door, which opened as Impa popped her head around the door glancing around to look for the room occupants. “Your highness?” She questioned as Zelda rose from the bed wincing “I can come back at a more convenient time?” She said as she noticed Zelda emerging slowly and carefully from the bedroom

“Not at all Impa, please take a seat. I trust you are here having sought council with the elders?” Zelda lowered herself into one of the lounge chairs slowly, using the arm rests to support her before gesturing for Impa to take a seat at the chair opposite. Link, upon hearing Impa’s voice joined them in the lounge area, Quill’s head resting gently on his shoulder as his little legs were curled beneath him against his fathers chest. Link had draped the towel in such a way to cover most of his chest but was sure to leave the shoulder Quill was resting on exposed. He nodded and smiled warmly at Impa as he handed the baby to Zelda as he started fussing quietly. When he was settled in her arms Link glanced down at her lovingly and gave her a quick peck on the head and rubbed his knuckles softly against Quill’s cheek before heading back into the bedroom to retrieve a clean shirt.

Once he was fully dressed and had bought a tray of tea to the table between the two women, he took a seat next to Zelda as she slowly rocked the baby in her arms.

“As you both know I warped to Kakariko this afternoon to consult the ancient texts and speak with those much older and wiser than myself.” Impa began, her head tilted to one side as she watched the family in front of her fondly.

“Did you find anything of interest” Link piped up; his voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

Impa nodded, a small smile gracing her lips “I did.” To which Zelda looked up into Impa’s eyes and awaited what she had to say.

“So, as I suspected, have a male heir has never happened in the history of the royal family blessed by the goddess. I found an old passage in one of the very ancient tomes that we barely look at due to its fragile state. If I translated correctly, which according to the librarian I did, the passage spoke of a triangle that varies from the triforce in that it is more of mathematical equation rather than anything else. It speaks of forces that occur in nature and being able to calculate the distance, speed and time of an object which, apparently, if applied to the triforce gives us the answer to the calamities end.”

Zelda raised her eyebrow “but the calamity has been defeated in the past before, and still there has been no male heir born to the triforce of wisdom afterwards. So why now?”

“Because the equation has never been fully solved before” Impa says with a knowing smile. It wasn’t often that Zelda was slow on the uptake so Impa decided to continue, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from the table in front of her in order to demonstrate what she means.

“If we place the triforce pieces in their usual positions with power at the top, wisdom bottom left and courage bottom right…” Impa draws the triforce as it has always been known “…and then we apply the mathematical formular gathered from the texts…” She draws a horizontal line below power then a vertical line between courage and wisdom “…we get the equation for defeating the calamity permanently.” She glances up at the two of them where she is perched on the end of her seat.

“I.. I’m sorry Impa but I don’t quite follow.” Zelda admitted honestly, to which Link was grateful as it meant he didn’t need to admit out loud that he too was confused - If Zelda wasn’t quite grasping it then he didn’t feel so stupid after all.

Impa wrote the equivalent formulae to accompany the triangle, also adding an ‘x’ between the vertical line. The equation read p = w x c. Zelda gasped slightly as she finally understood “Wait, so you’re saying that… that”

Impa nodding again “that’s exactly what I’m saying. The prophecy suggests that for the calamity to be beaten permanently, never to be reincarnated again then wisdom and courage need to combine. This has never happened before as previous incarnates of wisdom and courage have never been together in this way and certainly never producing offspring.”

Zelda looked to Link then, speaking softly almost in a trance “our son is a blessing from Hylia telling us that it’s over. And not just for this generation but for eternity!” Zelda’s eyes were misted up as she looked at Quill.

“In order to overcome the bane of power, wisdom and courage must combine not only in battle but also in surrender. The coming together of the two produces a force so great that not even malice incarnate can prevail.” Impa quoted from the text and gestured to the boy in Zelda’s arms.

---------

A few weeks later once Zelda had sufficiently recovered from birth and the new family had had some bonding time, the champions and the Sheikah scientists were invited to the castle for a private celebration of both the end of calamities and to introduce Quill to their friends before a formal announcement to the kingdom.

The gathering was held in a private pagoda in the castle courtyard near to the gardens with a spread of delicious foods to cater to everyone’s tastes. The group were sat together awaiting the arrival of the guest of honour. They stand when they see Zelda and Link approaching the table and as they get closer they could see Zelda’s eyes were already misty with tears of pride as she stood in front of all her most treasured friends, with Links left arm resting across her lower back and her son in her arms facing away from the group.

“Everyone” Zelda spoke in a soft but clear voice “Link and I are so very happy that you are here to join us. Your bravery and skill have proven vitally important to get where we are today, and as I know you are all aware the calamity is over and shall never plague this world again.” Everyone around her nodding and made small, gratifying sounds of approval. “It is now, in this time of great peace and tranquillity that I would like to introduce to our blessing and proof of our everlasting victory.” At this, Zelda jostled the boy in her arms carefully. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Quill!” Zelda beamed as she turned Quill in her arms so that he was facing her treasured allies and friends.

Most of the group cooed and ‘awwed’ at Quill, and even Revali dropped his snide remarks to look over the baby with a small nod of his head to Link. It was then that realisation hit him, as he watched his wife's wide smile and beaming face as she conversed joyously with those her held most dear – they had done it. They had given Hyrule the peace it so desperately deserved after all this time. This was now the age of tranquillity, and all across Hyrule the people would be able to safely indulge in a life free of calamity, a life of true domesticity.