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smoothlikealikeasnake · 4 months ago

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Strawberry Princess Chapter Nine “Fox got your tongue?”

Pairing - OT7!BTS x Reader, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader

Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - feelings of loneliness, slight angst, so much fluff, jimins a tease, lots of suggestive moments, sexual tension, lmk if there’s anything else!

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

Previous Next Overview

The next few days Jungkook and Y/n had their usual gym meets, she would sweetly hand him water and practically gawk over him the entire time with pink cheeks and fiddle with her fingers if she ever got caught looking, it made her want to swing her legs back and forth and watch him with heart eyes which she practically would do anyway. Around a week passed without meeting up outside of the gym when Y/n woke up one morning feeling particularly lonely, she couldn’t explain why she just got that feeling sometimes so she sent Jungkook a message asking to meet up, even for a few hours

‘I’m sorry princess, I have an all day client today’ - his words made her deflate as she was still curled up in bed, at that point just accepting she would be alone today

‘Joon is home today and you could spend the day with him?’ - those words had made her perk up, the idea made her shy as Namjoon’s presence always did, not in a bad way though which is why she agreed, on the terms that she wouldn’t be disturbing him at all as it was his free time. Jungkook assured her he would be happy to have her company and so she got up and got ready, dressing comfy in, a pleated skirt and a baby pink knit jumper with some Uggs and leg warmers for the cold.

‘Jin will pick you up soon princess’ - Y/n went to protest as she did have her own car but last time she had tried that she had gotten messages from 3 of the 7 after Jungkook, insisting she stay put because he was already on his way to get her and she had to admit she enjoyed being treated this way, maybe too much.

The ride with Jin was sweet as expected, they made small conversation before she fell asleep and was woken up once they arrived. She was surprised at his words once he opened the door however.

“Will you be okay to walk up yourself darling?” - The pet name made her heart flutter but she was more surprised that this was a stop on his way to a different place, feeling as if she had burdened him by having him pick her up, her face fell in worry but Jin was quick to continue

“I was driving by your apartment and past here on the way too, Joon is waiting for you” - He smiled gently at her with those plush lips and it melted her worries along with his words, she nodded at him and bounced over to hug and thank him. His chest was so broad it just made her feel warm inside when his arms wrapped around her. His hands lingered on her back for a moment longer than necessary and he couldn’t stop his eyes from travelling down to her smiling lips and wondering just how they felt, especially after the nest she left them. Y/n caught herself looking at his lips too and was mildly disappointed when she felt his hands leave her lower back. He watched until she had left through the elevator doors where she cleared her head and prepared herself to spend the day with Namjoon, that gorgeous wolf that made her blush everytime he spoke to her, purely from his aura and deep voice.

When she arrived at the door she only had to wait a moment before Namjoon was opening it, in much more casual clothes than usual, his black hair fluffy and parted in the middle with his glasses that he would adjust on his nose every so often. A loose pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt that should have fitted loosely but grew tight around his broad chest and toned arms, he looked far more relaxed than usual but he still made her feel shy as she felt her voice grow a tiny bit higher as she quietly greeted him and nearly tripped over her own feet as he let her in.

“Is there anything you wanted to do specifically?” - Joon was quite happy to do anything if he was spending time with her as he lead her to the living room about to sit down but stopped at her response

“What would you have done if I didn’t come over?” - Her voice was quiet, she refused to make eye contact because he just made her too shy and every time he spoke he put a blush on her face.

“I probably would have just read a book for a while” - Y/n wasn’t one to pick up a book herself usually but it certainly seemed relaxing to do or just to be around so she finally made eye contact with him, smiling up at him and nodding.

“Then let’s do that then, I just don’t want to be alone” - Those words seemed to make Joon quite happy as a dazzling smile took over his features, it pained him to think about her feeling lonely but knowing she was just happy with his company made him feel pride and he turned them around, hovering a hand over her back as he lead her down the hall to his personal office. It was neat, his desk slightly messy but the least interesting thing in the room as a large bookcase adorned the wall and a brown leather sofa with soft pillows and blankets thrown over it took up a good majority of the room, plants adding to the homey Namjoon-feel. Y/n looked at the sofa with glee, it seemed comfortable and she happily took a seat next to Joon on it, rubbing her hands over the soft pillow next to her.

Namjoon offered her a book, a short one that he particularly enjoyed while he picked up his own, she happily took it and looked over noticing her trying to stay put, shifting slightly but probably too shy to properly get comfortable so he stretched out himself, leaning against the arm rest and manspreading so he was more comfortable before telling her to do the same. It was like that was what she needed because her eyes lit up and she swung her legs up, tucking her legs and fluffy socked feet under herself, leaning against the back of the couch and happily purring quietly as she opened the book he gave her.

They sat in comfortable silence for a good half an hour before Y/n’s quiet purring got louder and the words on the page started to jumble, she tried her best to focus on the book but her gaze was stolen by Namjoon, observing the way his long fingers flipped the pages, his legs were spread to comfortably accommodate his thick thighs and his eyes were concentrated on the book infront of him. He looked up for a moment and Y/n’s gaze snapped back to the book, a guilty blush taking over her cheeks but he just smiled to himself and ignored it, leaving her to try to focus again and stare if she wished to.

It wasn’t long before Y/n’s eyes felt heavy, not having slept particularly well the night before as that feeling of loneliness set in, her head started to drop before she could realise it and she caught it after it did, trying to focus again with a rub of her eyes but Namjoon looked over, seeing her internal battle with sleep and thought for a moment. She had stared at his thighs for a good while since they had sat down and so he took his chance, patting the thigh closest to her and catching her attention.

“Go to sleep doll, I’ll wake you up in a while” - His tone was soft but it wasn’t an ask and her body complied before she could think, tied in with the new nickname that had heat rushing through her body, taking his patting on his thigh as an invite when she put the book on the table infront of her and layed her body down on her side, curling one of her legs up until she was closer to laying on her front than her side and putting her head on his thigh. Her hair splayed around her head and he didn’t disappoint, laying on his thick thigh made her reach one of her small hands up sleepily and hold on to him like he was some sort of comforting pillow. Her purring returned and it had Joon proud once again to see her so compliant and comfortable, the small hand gently kneeling just above his knee made him chuckle lowly before he took in the rest of her.

Y/n hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was wearing a skirt when she moved into this position and now her skirt was dangerously high, it was short as it was but now one slight movement would have her ass out. Her own thighs were definitely a sight as Namjoon resisted the urge to grip them and leave large hand marks on them like Jungkook had done unintentionally when they first met. Joon was a gentleman however, and while Y/n might not have noticed her close call to exposure, he did, he would have tugged down her skirt himself but she might not have been comfortable with that so he stopped himself, instead reaching for the blanket with one hand and draping it over her.

She mumbled out a happy ‘thank you joonie” and he only replied with a small chuckle and ‘so polite doll’ it made her preen and purr louder, wiggling in her position before she settled and dozed off. Namjoon got back to his book for a while before Y/n seemed to get hot and shifted, kicking off the blanket and making her skirt rise again in the process. The sight had him flustered this time as he could see the start of her ass and tops of her deliciously plush thighs but since she didn’t want the blanket and was still asleep, he reached his arm over and tugged at the hem of her skirt, being careful not to touch her before letting it fall back at the tops of her thighs, covering her back up as much as before. His hand didn’t go back to holding his book this time however as the book had shifted into his other hand, this time he rested it on her head, running his fingers over her scalp and effectively making her whine for more when he stopped. This time he buried his hand in her scalp, playing with her soft hair and rubbing circles, accidentally tugging at some times making her let out little gasps and having her body shiver with her scent sweetening when he did.

He loved how she reacted to every little touch, her cheeks adorning a permanent blush whenever he even spoke to her and even in her sleep she was purring and nuzzling into him. He avoided touching her ears no matter how much he wanted too, especially since she was asleep, perhaps when she was awake he might have grazed over them just to watch her fur stand up and hear her gasp out, shiver from his touch but that would have to wait.

The next hour would go just like that, Namjoon reading shile Y/n purred in her sleep and occasionally changing positions with soft huffs, her skirt riding up and Joon fixing it for her before his hand returned to her head, sometimes just resting there and sometimes running his hands through her curls. He’d noticed while she was moving that while he thought Y/n was wearing tights, she wasn’t, she was wearing thigh highs pulled right up as far as they would go, they stopped right under her ass and while she had been moving one of them had began to roll down at the top, digging in around the plush area. The more she moved the more they rolled down and her skirt rided up even when he adjusted it, he kept seeing glimpses of her white panties under the skirt and would snap his attention away and quickly pull the skirt down again, tyy trying his best to forget the image for Y/n’s sake. He was blissed out with her strawberry scent so close and sweet, as relaxed as he could be, his own chest rumbling happily and his rough tail urging to latch around her or her waist and keep her there forever.

Joon had lost focus on his book and hadn’t even realised until Y/n started to twist, more than she had before this time, turning inwards to face him before her short arms reached out to hug his stomach, using her grip to tug herself closer - still well asleep - until her face was flush against him and breathing him in deep. Namjoon froze with the movement looking like he was caught as his hands rose to not disturb her, feeling her cheek rubbing against him and her arms tighten, her purrs getting louder and legs rubbing together happily. She was warm against him even through their layers of clothing, her scent sweetened with the proximity and Joons chest rumbling louder started to vibrate her body, it seemed to make her even happier as her body squirmed to get closer, tucking her knees to her chest and tightening her arms, he could feel her lips pull up into a smile and it made his heart tighten in adoration, only making his chest rumble louder.

As she stopped moving, his hand fell down again, this time falling to her waist and gently tracing it with the tips of his fingers before resting it there, despite Joons racing heart he stayed put in the position for another 15 minutes, back to his reading.

Y/n felt warm, in a good way, her body was softly vibrating but not from her own purrs, her hands were tight in a soft cotton and arms around something firm but oh so comforting. She found her hands loosening and tightening over and over, pushing and pulling the fabric between them and her brain was flooded with a scent so rich, and masculine that she felt hazy. She was curled up, feet twisted over eachother and she felt small; that was the work of Namjoons hand though, large and resting over a big area of her waist, she really did feel like a doll but in the best way. Her eyes fluttered open and she was met with the sight of Namjoons shirt, she could feel his every breath, her head was at the crook of his thigh and turned up in a way that should be uncomfortable but wasn’t with the way she felt in that moment.

It took her a moment to truly realise she had curled up to the wolf hybrid, slung herself into his stomach and nearly curled into his lap just like a cat. Embarrassment and hesitation ran through her in an instant as she stilled, not knowing what to do, how he felt about it all or how she’d moved here. Namjoon sensed her change in an instant, how her body tensed but instead of pulling away her hands gripped his shirt tighter, she twitched and let out a shaky breathe as she seemed to brace herself to pull away almost as if it would hurt her to do so. That’s when Namjoon realised she didn’t want to pull away, she was worried about how he felt, so he took his own actions from that.

The hand on her waist, once gently resting, now tightened until he was holding onto her, keeping her from moving as easily while his other hand dropped his book and pushed his fingers into her scalp, scratching at it gently and just slightly grazing over the base of her ear sending a shiver down Y/n’s body as she gasped into his stomach. Her body relaxed again, purring lowly at his encouragement, not even needing any more but he gave it to her happily.

“You have a nice nap doll?” - His smooth voice got a nod and muffled ‘yes’ that he happily chuckled to,

“Thank you” - Y/n’s voice was quiet and muffled, she didn’t know what she was thanking him for exactly but she just felt like she wanted to tell him, for the way he was making her feel. Namjoon only cooed at her sweetness and brushed his fingers over the base of her ears again making her push closer to his hand and grip his shirt harder.

“Please?” - Y/n got shy and refused to open her eyes as she pushed her head closer to his hand, pleading him to pet at her ears, she felt him stop for a moment before shivers coursed through her body and her mouth fell open just a little because his fingers traced over her ears intentionally and then gently rubbed at the base. Y/n’s breath got caught in her throat, muffled gasps and twitching falling over her body. Joon could feel his hybrid counterpart growing cocky and filling up with pride at having her so happy to be under his hands, her gasps were so sweet and he felt like he was missing something when her arms moved from their position and she pushed herself up, a dopey smile on her face as she sat up, legs tucked under herself and knees against his thigh.

“Can I-Can I do the same?” - Her words were quiet as she looked up at his own head of hair and ears, since she moved Joon’s hand that was on her waist had dropped onto her thigh, they were warm and so soft, his hands, as large as they were, couldn’t cover the entirety of one of them and practically sunk into her skin. Y/n’s own hands were twitching as she held back, waiting for his response before making a single move.

“Go ahead doll” - to emphasise his approval Joon dropped his head down and lightly squeezed her thigh, she made a happy sound and leaned forward on her knees, reaching her hands into his hair and running them through the soft strands before slowing down to graze over his wolf ears, she expected it to be coarse since the fur looked thick but it was impossibly soft, she tried to shuffle her knees in closer but found she couldn’t move and just leant her body closer making happy little noises despite not being able to get in as close as she wanted too. Even in his bliss, Namjoon could feel her struggle with her position, even if her movements were pleasing him so much that he had to hold back growls of approval and instead just hold onto her thigh tighter. She was happy but clearly wanted to be closer so Namjoon took his opportunity, moving both hands to rest on her waist and easily pulling her over his lap, her thighs straddling his own as she squeaked in surprise before getting right back to her original task, fingers threading into each soft strand again.

“Better?” - Namjoons voice came out rougher than usual but Y/n let out a noise of approval, far too distracted with his soft locks and perfect ears, Namjoons hands dropped onto her thighs and Y/n shuffled even closer in response, Namjoons head was still dropped down because even on his lap, Y/n wasn’t level with him.

When Y/n’s hands hit one particular spot on his ears, Join let out a harsh breathe and groaned, luckily Y/n took it as a good thing and continued right there, it had Joon huffing out breaths and gripping onto her thighs particularly hard before rubbing over them to soothe them again, not that Y/n minded at all.

“How are they so soft?” - Her voice trailed off almost dreamily, like she was enchanted by his ears and the rumble in Joons chest threatened to come out louder this time.

“Yoongs, Jin and Jimin are particularly attentive to our ears and tails, they do a good job at keeping them nice” - Joons voice came out rough again, not minding to change it at all and once Y/n processed each of the words her hand stilled only for a moment. The first name had shocked her, never really thinking he would be the type but in a weird way it made sense

“Yoongi?” - She felt like perhaps it was an occasion thing like very irregular thing with him but he just happened to be good at it so she had to ask.

“Oh yes doll, he might not seem like it but if you went and lay over his lap and handed him a brush, he wouldn’t question it for a second, he’ll do his own version of purring so loud you can hear and feel it rooms away and sometimes his claws even come out.” - Y/n couldn’t help the shocked and intrigued expression that sat on her face from his words but when she really thought about it she could definitely see that, not saying anything just like how he’d ignored her constant attempts to annoy him and instead just acting.

Their proximity and shared warmth was creating a mood in the room that could only be described as heavenly, their scents tied together were the perfect contrast, just as they found with any of the 7s scents together or with Y/n’s and without realising, they were both relaxing and falling into eachother more and more until Y/n was flush against him, Joon’s head sitting into the crook of her neck and breathing her in, Y/n had been dwelling on the other twos reaction towards grooming and Joon seemed to read her mind, words just a tad muffled and rough as his warm breaths hit her neck enough to make her shiver, her hands still scratching at his ears.

“Jimins the gentlest of the three, Yoongi has rougher hands even if he is as gentle as he ever could be and Jin- Jin isn’t as gentle as the other two but it’s not in a bad way, trust me no where near.“ - Joon didn’t give any more context than that, instead just nuzzling into Y/n’s neck and salivating at her scent so close to his lips.

Joon’s ears twitched in Y/n’s hands making her giggle, it was because someone had just opened the front door, making their way down the hall and into a different room. He knew he’d eventually find out who it was and despite his urge as the head of the pack to go see exactly who it was, his current position was too good to give up. Besides, he could feel the mark on his chest over his heart and the mark on his shoulder tingling so he knew exactly who was home.

“Joonie? What’s the hierarchy like in the pack?” - The question completely caught him off guard, every small movement coming to a stop but he didn’t hesitate to answer after he’d processed her question.

“How do you think it goes?”

“You, Hoseok, Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, Jin?” - that answer made him chuckle lowly, the sound and feeling sending shivers down Y/n’s spine

“It goes me, Jin, Hoseok and Yoongi on the same level, Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin” - His response had her shocked, completely frozen as she thought about it realising she was actually really far off

“But you’ll see that for yourself in due time won’t you, doll” - The last word rolled off his tongue teasingly and the deep and gravely tone of his voice made Y/n’s skin bristle especially tied in with his hot breath on her skin and insinuation behind his words

“I have a feeling you’ll fall after Jimin, don’t you agree doll?” - That caught her breath in her throat, any response she had died on her tongue as she unintentionally whined and gripped his hair, pulling just a little while the rest of her body melted, that implication making her body pliant in Namjoons hands, he chuckled into her neck, holding her thighs tighter, she felt even smaller in his arms now, the only movement she made was to press her nose into his own neck, take in a deep breath having her sighing and nodding a few times.

It felt amazing to be considered as even a potential part of their pack, more than amazing actually it was euphoric. Y/n could of just frozen time there and never moved forward but unfortunately, their moment was interrupted, truthfully she didn’t mind all that much but she just didn’t want to leave, to move.

“Y/n? I knew I could smell you, I didn’t expect you here today” - Jimin came into the room after creeping the door open, rushing up to the twos side and not even acknowledging Joon, in a way that would usually make him growl but he just couldn’t care in that moment. Jimin stood next to them, not moving to take Y/n off Joon’s lap at all because it was just too sweet of a sight, too good of a smell too.

“Y/n wanted some company, isn’t that right doll?” - Joon addressed her without taking his head out of her neck, squeezing her thighs to encourage her to reply. Her hands tightened in his hair before she slipped her head to the side to take in Jimin, that really didn’t help her state as he was in all black with diamond accents on his clothes and jewellery to match, it made that shy demeanour come back all over again and she just questioned how he could possibly be the lowest in their hierarchy, that made her shiver and her response died on her tongue, just taking him in.

Jimin on the other hand, realised the situation he had walked into and his eyes darkened, finding it all too amusing as he lent down to meet Y/n’s eyes, his chain dangling in her face.

“Has Joon done well baby?” - His use of a pet name tied in with his current look made her lips part just slightly in awe, she nodded at him looking starstruck but Jimin clearly wasn’t satisfied with that, following up her nodding

“Tell him then” - Y/n was so compliant, not even hesitating as her body took over for her rather than her mind, turning back to Joon who had taken his head out of her neck and was looking down at her again.

“Did so good thank you Joonie” - both men just felt a shiver go down their own spines, the grips on her thighs tightening again, his fingers dipping into the plush flesh, Jimins eyes dropped down to watch it too. The room felt hot in their small space, all three of their eyes glazed over with something almost primal.

Their moment was cut to a stop when Yoongi’s deep voice came from the doorway, he had gotten home and changed before making everyone a snack.

“Come eat” - His tone was as nonchalant as usual and he didn’t hang around to wait for them, just going back to the living room where they would soon follow. Jimin helped Y/n off Joon’s lap and stopped her from stumbling by slipping an arm around her waist and holding her to his chest. Leaning down to whisper in her ear to follow Yoongi and she did so without another word, blindly following out the hallway. Joon let out a huff in his position before throwing his body back against the sofa to regain his composure, Jimin could only laugh at him slightly before leaving after Y/n.

Y/n made herself comfortable on the sofa and Yoongi handed her a fruit bowl without another glance, 3 more sitting on the table for himself, Joon and Jimin. Y/n happily thanked him and immediately reached for a strawberry, it was sweet and juicy making her hum happily as it hit her tongue. Yoongi took a seat next to her, Namjoon and Jimin sitting on the other couch and everyone eating the snack Yoongi prepared. All the fruit was sweet and ripe, Y/ns tail swung happily and she failed to notice the juice falling from her lip until Yoongi reached over, wiping it off with her thumb. She watched as he brought the thumb to his mouth, sucking off the juice that was just on her own lips and a blush fell over her face, watching him lean back and lazily smile to himself at not only the fruit juice but also the added sweetness of Y/n.

Yoongi looked over and saw Y/n just staring, frozen in her state with a hand above the bowl, about to grab another piece but not moving, she was doe eyed and her mouth was gaping just a little. He was almost taken back by her stare, he took a deep breath before composing himself and holding her chin to make sure she was listening.

“Eat.” - There wasn’t room for questioning in his tone, nor for Y/n to act playfully like she usually did towards Yoongi, instead she just looked at her bowl when he let her go and did as he said. She particularly liked the pieces of tangerine, peeled and ready to eat, they were ripe and had a strong flavour that reminded her of the man next to her, his hair was messy and long, she just wanted to run her hands through it and she wanted to know how his sleek ears felt, how his thick and long black tail would slip through her hands. Now she couldn’t focus on the juice slipping between her lips for an entirely different reason, Yoongi was just too effortlessly attractive, her eyes slipped down from his hair to his arms, biceps out from the short sleeve he wore, they were thick and pale, her eyes followed to the lower part of his arm and hands, covered in veins and toned, his fingers long and pale. The fruit juice had slipped from her mouth down her chin and started to run down her neck, chewing slowly focused on how Yoongi was peeling a tangerine.

He knew she was staring again, he didn’t expect her to be so dazed just by him sitting there but it was amusing how her teasing and playful facade had just melted away, he assumed it was from whatever happened between her Joon and Jimin in Joon’s office and he wasn’t complaining. He turned around and saw a dazed Y/n, fruit juice trailed down her neck from her slowly chewing mouth before she swallowed under his gaze, lips glistening again.

He couldn’t hold back the low chuckle that fell out, capturing the gaze of the two on the other couch. Yoongi’s hand fell down to Y/n’s nice, starting from the base and cupping it without any pressure, moving it up to get the juice the fell down, his fingers slipped over her scent glands and made Y/n’s eyes flutter shut in a silent gasp before they opened again, just as Yoongi lifted her fingers to her mouth, giving her a hard look that she understood instantly, mouth falling open letting the tips of his fingers onto her tongue. They were sweet and sticky but cold and slim, felt so nice to Y/n that her eyes closed again, tongue swirling around the fingers as she let out a muffled whine so sweet it made all 3 of the hybrids watching shudder.

“Messy Kitten” - His voice was quiet and rasped with every syllable, the words seeming to snap something in her mind leading to her next actions.

As Yoongi was taking back his hand, not wanting to push too far, Y/n purposefully nibbled at his fingers with her sharp fangs, scraping over the delicate skin and opening her eyes to catch his reaction with that playful glint back in her eye. She was always testing his boundaries, even in her moments when he thinks she’s just being so sweet and instead of pulling away faster, he let her, tapping the sharp little points with the tips of his fingers making her eyes widen as she hadn’t expected it. She tried to bite down, not giving up on her goal to annoy him, a goal she had made internally when they met, Yoongi seemed to see it coming though and swiped his hand back faster than she could process making her bite down on her own teeth, a click sound heard around them as he just raised an eyebrow at her in challenge.

Y/n flashed him a smile showing off the little fangs, it was funny to him just how much she really tried to test him, he wasn’t aware of why she really did it but it seemed like it was her instincts. That’s why all he did in retaliation was flash her a smile right back, his much larger canines showing off speaking volumes about how much more powerful he really was in many ways, her own smile faltered just a bit as she took in the fangs, her skin rising in goosebumps at the display, her own fangs were small, razor sharp but very small and the same size as her other teeth while Yoongi’s were visibly larger, pulling down longer than his other teeth and dangerously pointy. She hadn’t noticed them before, never exactly looking for them but now that she had seen them, her hybrid was urging her to just lay back, show her belly and bare her neck in submission, she refrained from it in embarrassment as heat rose up her neck at the urge, instead just feeling her tail whip around behind her.

All three of the other hybrids would practically read her mind, seeing and smelling exactly how she was feeling and guessing her thoughts. Yoongi didn’t need her to really do what she wanted to for him to praise her, reaching over and ruffling her hair, patting her head over and feeling her push up into his hand. She desperately wanted him to pet her, to scratch at the base of her ears and it made her chase his cold hand up when he pulled away before sitting back with a huff, trying to put on a bratty face to hide her clear intentions from the last few interactions.

Y/n looked around, pretending not to care from the interactions, her posture straight and clearly seeing if she could silently test Yoongi’s patience further but much to her displeasure, he wasn’t having any of it and didn’t even twitch to correct her again. She caught sight of Namjoon, relaxing back and watching the interaction with a knowing smirk while Jimin was looking at her with a similar playful gaze to the one she had just moments before.

“Awww, that’s cute baby, I’m sure your Yoongi-Oppa would let you bite him if you just asked nicely” - Jimins eyes were low and he was smirking behind the seemingly innocent smile he was giving her. He took away Y/n’s ability to form any words as the bratty facade she put up instantly crumbled, stuttering with a harsh red blush over her cheeks trying to protest. It wasn’t cute, she was intimidating… right?

Jimin only pressed further, leaning in finding it all too amusing to see her struggle.

“Well go on Y/n, ask nicely” - he rolled out his words, pushing her to really do it, knowing she wouldn’t and only doing it to watch her get all cute and shy.

“I-I don’t- I wasn’t-“ - Y/n’s protests were cut off when Jimin got up, walking over and standing so close that Y/n’s knees were pressed against Jimins calf, he tapped her chin to make her look him in the eye, sliding out another set of words.

“What is it? Fox got your tongue?” - Jimin finally let her breathe with a teasing smirk before leaving her dumbfounded with her mouth slightly agape, he just walked off to pour himself a drink and left her in that state. How mean.

He didn’t lie though. Yoongi would have let her bite him if she really did ask nicely, they all would have.

———————————————————————————

After Jimins teasing he took off to the kitchen, getting himself a drink and then coming up with another way to tease Y/n, this one being more pushy than the last in some ways. He waited for her to regain her composure before calling her over, seeing her look at him in confusion before he made light conversation and washed his hands under warm water.

“You know, I always expected cat hybrids not to like water much but Yoongi and Hobi really don’t mind it” - Jimins words made her confused and she wondered just where he was going with this.

She hardly had time to process before he turned around, hands covering her face to hide from the splashes of water Jimin suddenly attacked her with, giggling teasingly at her when her fur stood up. She wasn’t afraid of water, it was actually rare in cat hybrids to have that but there was a urge to groom yourself back to pristine condition after even a droplet of water gets onto their ears or tail. Jimin had known well that she wasn’t afraid of it, that being the only reason he actually teased her like this, being told of her trips with Kook to the pool where he’d splash and nearly dip her in everytime. He’d told her about how she’d giggle and scream, laughing away but sometimes got equally as playful as him so Jimin wanted to try to experience a little of that too.

The droplets that hit her were warm and where she turned around, hit her tail, ears and hair quite quickly. When the first rain finished she spun back around, a betrayed look on her face as she felt a playful hiss curling up in her throat.

“Awww is the kitty’s tail getting all messed up?” - That comment only spurred on Y/n’s need to reciprocate in some way so she frantically looked around for any sort of plan but was only met with another surge of water, not sinking into her long fur, she might have seemed angry had she not been wearing a cheeky grin since Jimin began this little game. This time she fully jumped at the water hitting her sensitive tail and ears, shivering despite the water being warm.

A hiss and squeal fell out of Y/n’s lips as she quickly grabbed a water bottle she found on the side and aimed for Jimin, he was much quicker than her however, quickly jumping to the side and avoiding her throw without a single drop touching him. This time he picked a larger amount of water up and it made the fluff of Y/n’s tails and ears go flat and a darker shade as the fur stuck together from the next throw of water over her. Just as she was about to throw more at Jimin again a clearing of a throat was heard beside them. Y/n looked terribly guilty, water bottle ready to attempt to soak Jimin again and a large puddle of water next to him where she missed while all of the water Jimin threw was expertly aimed at her, barely even getting a drop on the floor or her clothes, just in her fur and hair.

Namjoon was standing next to them with an amused face, eyebrows raised as it looked like Y/n was the only one participating if you ignored her wet hair, it left her stuttering over her words to try to explain and face going hot as he probably came in when he heard her hiss and squeals. It was terribly embarrassing to her for some reason and Namjoon just shook his head with a laugh.

“We were just playing Joon, it’s fine” - Jimins sly voice came from behind her and she felt like a puppet just nodding her head along forgetting about her wet tail and hair until Joon looked around and mentioned it.

“How about you clean this up Jimin and I’ll take Y/n to get a towel” - Once Jimin agreed Namjoon ushered Y/n out with a hand hovering over her lower back, itching to wrap around her waist properly especially when she would look up at him in admiration after every few steps. When he properly looked at her tail, ears and hair after handing her the towel a sudden idea came to mind. Looking at the side of the cabinet in the bathroom, he picked up two detangling brushes while Y/n gently took some of the water off but was clearly aware of the knots that had accumulated as a rest as her small hands brushed over them with a little furrow of her brows.

“How about you let Jimin and Yoongi take care of that? Since Jimin was clearly so mean hm?” - Namjoons tone was teasing and his words had Y/n snapping her gaze to him wide eyed and flushed again at the idea, remembering their earlier conversation all she had to do was lay over their laps, not even say anything maybe she had grown a lot more confidence in the time she’d spent there today but she seemed to think for a moment before handing one brush to Namjoon hesitantly and turning around, quietly mumbling.

“But could you brush my hair please?” - She asked so sweetly and held her breath in a way that made Namjoon shudder, something inside him howling to do exactly as she asked without another second to spare. Y/n asked not just because her arms get tired when she has to do it herself but because she loved how her skin rose everytime Namjoon lightly touched her or even just spoke to her, he made her feel giggly and soft. She hadn’t really thought about her height and length of her hair being a bit of a problem in terms of comfortability for Namjoon until he took a step forward, looming well over a head taller than her with her and seemed to make a thoughtful noise. She squeaked in surprise at the hands that landed on her waist and effortlessly lifted her to sit on the counter Namjoon had got the brushes from, making her taller and making it much easier for Joon to brush her hair.

He was really a gentle giant, every touch soft and he would rush out quiet apologies at every little knot and pull even though Y/n clearly didn’t mind, her purring never ceasing and getting louder everytime he would gently position her head where he needed it or praised her for how soft, pretty and long her hair was. He was puffing out his scent in contentment and didn’t fully notice Y/n’s body relaxing more and more, letting her body slouch and head drop, it happened quicker as he brushed more, purposefully taking his time and longing it out just a bit. She was so sweet and soft under his touch and care and while it made Y/n’s body slouch and barely hold herself up it had Namjoons body straightening and chest puffing out purely from pride with quiet rumbles coming from his own chest in time with Y/n’s purrs.

Y/n had melted under Namjoons hands by the time he was finished, she probably would have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for the way Joon moved a hand to the back of her neck, stabilising her but equally standing as a form of making this soft feeling Y/n had barrelling over her body more, his fingers could so easily scruff her where they were or press into her scent glands but that all sounded too appealing for her to admit.

Joon lifted her back down to the floor even if she could have gotten down herself with a little jump, he kept his hands on her waist for a moment steadying her wobbly legs so she didn’t stumble, it felt good to take care of her like this, in any way really. Just carry her over and put her in packs laps- they’ll take care of her- don’t let her go actually, take her to nest- makes such pretty nests. His thoughts and instincts were screaming to do all sorts of things for her but he took a more logical route, with a lot of struggle, big hand wrapping around Y/n’s waist and guiding her body back to the living room.

Turning towards Y/n again, he found her already staring up at her with blown out pupils and a dopey smile, she looked at him like he was the only man in the world and it took his breath away, forgetting what he was going to say momentarily. One of her hands was sliding through her brushed hair, happy to feel it so soft and knotfree, it was making that itch to be well groomed a whole lot better but it wasn’t there yet, still needing her knotted fur brushed which is what brought Namjoon back to focus. He handed out the two brushed to her, waiting until she took them and looked up for instruction in a way that made a happy growl threaten to fall out of his throat.

“Go on doll” - Y/n silently padded over to the sofa that Jimin and Yoongi were comfortable on and she avoided their eyes putting the brushes into one of her hands and planting her knees onto the sofa on Yoongi’s side, still avoiding their curious stares as she dropped her front forward, all three men’s breath catching as she still had her ass up for a moment before sliding her knees down, resting her head on Jimins thighs, breasts pushed up against his outer thigh and her ass and upper thighs resting over Yoongi’s. She just silently reached her hand back and held out the brushes inbetween them, hiding her face in Jimins muscly thighs and inhaling his dizzying scent.

Both the men looked at eachother for a moment in astonishment but the moment a whine started to rise in Y/n’s throat - from her embarrassment thinking they didn’t want to brush her fur (it was definitely not that) - they snatched a brush each and soothed her with soft touches and words. She smelt sweet and they could see when She came over her legs were wobbly and smile shy but equally dopey, her hair was brushed and every touch was making her giggle so they looked back at Namjoon who was smiling guiltily on the other couch.

Y/n buried her face further into Jimins thigh at the first touch to her ears and tail, it wasn’t from the brushes, both of them had decided to gently run their fingers over the fur and coo at how soft it was despite the knots. They were delighted she was happy to let them touch her there and made the most of it, moving slowly to brush out the knots and laughing quietly everytime Y/n gasped at a particularly sensitive pull, that was mostly Jimins doing, Joon was right in saying Yoongi was the gentlest, she could barely feel him brushing out the knots on her tail but Jimin was still gentle, the little pulls were pleasant and far from painful so she sighed happily with her sweet scent every now and then.

They were praising her constantly, both making noises similar to purrs and Y/n felt like she might drift off for the first half of the brushing, that was until Yoongi was about half way down her tail and Jimin was nearly at the base of her ears. That’s when it started to get more sensitive, Y/n was constantly inwardly gasping, trying to hold back any noises as she gripped onto the sofa hard and when she felt restless one of her hands moved up and gripped onto Jimins thigh hard, it wasn’t really that hard but he could feel the indent of her claws just slightly and just cooed at her, continuing. Reaching the base of her ears, Jimin put a bit more pressure to brush them and heard Y/n let out a muffled whine, one of her legs cutely kicking beside Yoongi, it really didn’t take long to finish but instead of finishing he changed from a brush to his hands, the warmth of them making the feeling all the more intense and Y/n began struggling to keep quiet and still, wiggling a bit and making it all the more difficult for Yoongi to keep brushing her tail.

He let her squirm for a minute before he hand to move further down on her tail and let one of his hands fall onto the her thigh, squeezing in warning and effectively stilling her for a while but it just made her heavier breathing and whines more frequent. Y/n was purring loudly and her scent was sweet and strong enough that it clung to every inch of the room, slightly dizzying for everyone in it but no one complained because they loved it, it only made them happier. Jimin’s fingers seemed to put more pressure the closer Yoongi got the base of her tail and he was only a few inches from it when her squirming started again, moving her hips side to side a bit, kicking her legs more than she did before.

The situation seemed all too familiar for Namjoon as he glanced over, her skirt had rided up to the tops of her thighs again, showing the tops of her high socks but Yoongi kept his eyes purely on her tail, not looking further down only glancing up to where Jimin was playing with her hair and ears. Jimin was alternating between scratching at the base of her ears and gently tugging at her scalp in a way that had her gasping and letting out muffled and quiet ‘ah’s but he was having so much fun playfully teasing her for it, Y/n wouldn’t verbally admit it but she loved it, she didn’t really have too because her body was giving it away anyway.

She was too caught up in her own thoughts about Jimins movement on her head to realise when Yoongi moved about an inch from the base of her tail and the slightest pull of the brush made her suddenly let out a much louder whine, suspiciously similar to a high pitched moan and her back arched to push her tail further into Yoongi’s hand, her legs kicking hard back and forth against the couch. Immediately she grew embarrassed, especially when Jimin dug his fingers into her ears and scalp harder and just added to the feeling, dragging out the noises coming from her mouth before she tried to silence them, her hips twitching and breathing heavy.

The moment it happened had Yoongi freezing for just a split second but he quickly got back to his task, grabbing Y/n’s hips with both hands and pushing her back down onto his thighs, hard, in a way that had her gasping again but it was needed, it grounded her in a way she didn’t know she needed and it had her wanting to splutter out thank you’s to him but didn’t because she was still the brat from before who refused to inflate his ego.

While Yoongi and Jimin had regained their composure quickly, Namjoon was stuck in that very moment because as Y/n had arched her back and kicked her legs out, her skirt went up that extra few inches and Namjoon didn’t just see a glimpse of her patterned panties this time, he caught a full view of the darkened wet patch from her slick, the way the damp fabric clung to her and how her thighs slightly shook for a moment, they all knew it was there from her scent but seeing it, that’s something different, he looked away so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash but it didn’t stop the flush of his scent surrounding the room, both of the men looked at him for a moment in question but put his reaction down to her previous reaction.

Joon found it harder and harder to concentrate as Yoongi seemed to move almost torturously slow to the base of her tail, it got harder and harder for her to stop her squirming and sweet noises. It wasn’t like the other two weren’t struggling to keep their composure but they refused to let their instincts act any more than their racing thoughts and purrs, maybe the harder touches that made Y/n tremble and twitch were on purpose too but they would never admit that.

When they were finished, they made no effort to move Y/n. Instead, their hands moved around her body, brushing over her sensitive fur occasionally as Yoongi stroked up and down her back and thighs while Jimin played with her hair and teased at her scent gland and the back of her neck. Namjoon’s gaze fell back onto them eventually, taking in the scene greedily and that’s exactly how Jungkook found the 4 when he came home, barrelling through the door excited to see everyone and stopping dead in his tracks at the scent and atmosphere of the room, a shiver running down his spine at the tension. He took in Y/n rubbing her face into Jimins thighs and still squirming over Yoongi’s lap and Namjoons almost feral gaze and he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened today, jealous that he had missed it.

The three men greeted him lovingly but Y/n didn’t even seem to realise he was there until a third set of hands brushed over her body, stroking her legs and holding them up to plant himself right next to Yoongi and under the Y/n’s knees. From his position he could see exactly what Namjoon had seen before and his nostrils flared at the scent overwhelming him before his hand reached up and flicked the bottom of her skirt down, tugging it to keep his own composure in check.

Y/n chirped happily at his presence and lifted her head to look down at him, her pupils blown out to the max and cheeks flushed, plump lips pouting slightly before contorting into a happy smile. She felt positively buzzing, almost high from the day as a whole, her hair and fur was freshly brushed and she didn’t even have to lift a finger, her body being touched by a combination of warm and cold hands, all big and grounding. She had been smothered in praise and admiration the entire time and her eyes felt droopy as a result, she had even drooled onto Jimins thigh slowly over the course of the time, she didn’t realise that though. Hadn’t even processed his teasing about it throughout when he was making little comments like drooly baby and oh is that nice hm? Can’t even keep it in can you? Although that one had an alternative meaning referring to the mess between her thighs too.

“Has your day been nice princess?” - Y/n responded to Jungkooks words with eager nodding and slurred babbling about everything from reading and napping on Namjoon and how nicely he brushed her hair for her to how Jimin had teased her for trying to bite Yoongi, how he’d brought out such nice fruit for her to eat and more, she spoke so fast and in short bursts that would end half way through as another thought came across that it was a little hard to understand but they all just listened and looked at her lovingly. Jungkook knew it was a good idea to leave her with Namjoon for the day, it seemed to be everything she had needed.

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Unfortunately it soon became time for Y/n to go home, no one wanted her to go so she reluctantly had to leave the comfort of the three men’s laps, it proved to be a bit of a flustering affair and she flipped over onto her back and sat up, effectively sitting right on Yoongi’s lap before she stood up and he had kept his hands firmly on her hips to make sure she got up okay which had her usually brat behaviour around him breaking down and she was just shy, scampering over to the door, followed by all 4 men.

Jungkook had made sure she was warm enough to leave, before getting to his shoes while Y/n moved over to Namjoon.

That shy demeanour she had before seemed to reappear as she got an close as she could and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes even as he bend down to wrap his own arms around her waist. She whispered thank yous and they exchanged small words before she held her breath, leaning in and putting a kiss with her pouty lips to the corner of his mouth, not quite touching his lips but very very close. He was so surprised that his eyebrows shot up but he gave her that dazzling smile and kissed her forehead before letting her move onto Jimin.

Jimin was as teasing as he had been the entire day with his goodbye, lifting her off her feet and spinning her while she giggled and squealed before planting a kiss to her cheek, not ending there when he leant into her ear, whispering in a way that had her flushing all over again ‘maybe you should try to bite Yoongs again next time, I’ll make sure he lets you’ he ended this with a kiss just under her ear that had her skin prickling and she reciprocated with a kiss to his chin.

The final goodbye was for Yoongi, she moved up close to him like she had the others but this time, she stood on his feet before going on her tiptoes with a proud look, he grumbled empty complaints at her bratiness but wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tight, saying he’d miss her and to come back soon. Being so close to his face reminded her of his canines that she had seen earlier and she stared trying to catch a glimpse of them before burying her face in his neck. A wicked thought came to mind and she opened her mouth at his neck just slightly, bringing her sharp fangs close urging to just nip, just a little bit barely graze the skin but before she could it was like Yoongi could read her mind. One of his hands shot up, tangling in her hair and holding her by her scalp so she couldn’t move further, the other hand tightening around her waist and his voice came out gravelly and deep ‘don’t’, followed by his own canines scraping down her neck, a clear warning that had her giddy. Happily giggling and kissing him on his cheek, it was a bit more of a wet kiss that he teasingly rubbed off with another empty grumble before he put one of his own to the space between her eyes.

Jungkook wanted to take her home to spend some time with her because he hadn’t been able to sol he bent down and gently put Y/n’s shoes on for her when she had stepped back, letting her lean both hands on his strong shoulders to keep her balance. When they were on and they were both ready, he grabbed his keys and let her say her goodbyes again before escorting her down to his car.

There ride was short and sweet, Y/n stayed awake for longer this time so she could hear about his day, happy to hear his voice and be close to him again and in the back of her mind she couldn’t wait until she got her now routine kiss at her door. That moment came sooner rather than later, Y/n’s scent fluffing out sweet and happy as her lips were on Kooks, it was just about a peck, teasingly sweet and leaving her wanting more but both of them knew she wouldn’t ask for it and that made Jungkook satisfied, knowing she’d think about it for hours to come, in a way it made up for some time they hadn’t spent together.

Y/n huffed dropping herself into her bed after having a shower and dressing in some comfy pyjamas, her loneliness cured from the day but she couldn’t help wanting to go back, wanting more and wishing she was still there, that she could be there all day every day.

One day, one day very soon hopefully

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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed today’s chapter! My asks are open for strawberry princess prompts and for character asks!

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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Taglist -

@m00njinnie @singukieee @maisyyyyyy @noortsshift @bunnybears-stuff @authorpj @simeonswif3 @kiki-zb @msrmimi @nobody3210 @djodjom1 @jkriri @btsizlyfe

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vibranttexas · 5 months ago

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Things to Know Before Moving to Texas: A Comprehensive Guide

Texas is a land of vast opportunities, diverse landscapes, and a culture all its own. Whether you're moving for work, seeking adventure, or just ready for a change of pace, the Lone Star State has something to offer everyone. Before you pack up your belongings and head south, here are some things you should know to make your move smoother and more enjoyable.

1. Size Matters

Texas is massive. It’s the second-largest state in the U.S., behind Alaska, and driving from one end to the other can take over 12 hours. That means everything from road trips to daily commutes may involve a lot of driving. Be prepared to spend time behind the wheel, and make sure your vehicle is in top shape!

Pro Tip: Get used to the phrase “everything is bigger in Texas” – because it's true for highways, cities, and even weather events!

2. Diverse Climate

One of the most significant misconceptions about Texas is that it's all desert. In reality, the state has a wide variety of climates, ranging from arid in the west to humid and coastal in the east. Summers can be scorching, particularly in central and southern parts, where temperatures often exceed 100°F. Winters vary from mild in cities like Houston to colder snaps in the Panhandle or Dallas.

Recommendation: Make sure your new home has a reliable air conditioning system and, if you're building a shed or cabin, consider insulation and ventilation to withstand the heat.

3. Cost of Living

Texas is known for having a lower cost of living compared to other states like California and New York. Cities like Houston, San Antonio, and Dallas offer affordable housing options, but costs can be higher in rapidly growing areas like Austin. Property taxes are higher than the national average, which can surprise new residents, especially those moving from states with lower rates.

Fun Fact: Texas has no state income tax! However, that’s balanced by higher property and sales taxes.

4. Texan Pride is Real

Texans are fiercely proud of their state. From the state flag flying high to BBQ cookouts and Friday night football games, the sense of community and local pride is palpable. If you’re moving from out of state, embracing the local culture will help you settle in more smoothly. Learn the basics of Texas history, pick up some local slang, and you’ll fit right in.

5. Job Market and Economy

Texas has a robust economy with thriving industries in technology, energy, healthcare, and agriculture. Cities like Austin have emerged as tech hubs, attracting startups and large companies. Houston remains a global energy leader, particularly in oil and gas. This strong economy, coupled with Texas' friendly business climate, makes it a great place for entrepreneurs and job seekers alike.

6. Outdoor Adventure

If you love the outdoors, Texas won’t disappoint. The state is home to everything from vast plains and deserts to lush forests and stunning coastlines. You can hike in Big Bend National Park, swim in the Gulf of Mexico, or explore the Texas Hill Country. For nature lovers, the opportunities for adventure are endless.

Pro Tip: Invest in a sturdy shed or cabin for your outdoor gear. Having a dedicated space for bikes, fishing equipment, or camping gear will make it easy to take advantage of all that Texas has to offer.

7. Friendly People

You’ll hear this a lot: Texans are friendly. The state's strong sense of hospitality means you’ll likely be greeted with a warm welcome. Neighbors are quick to lend a hand, and people generally look out for one another. Expect to engage in more conversations with strangers than you might be used to – it’s just part of the charm.

8. Transportation and Infrastructure

Texas’ public transportation infrastructure is not as extensive as in places like New York or Chicago. If you’re moving to a big city, like Houston or Dallas, you’ll likely need a car to get around. While some cities, like Austin, are trying to expand public transit, most Texans rely heavily on their vehicles.

A Recommendation for New Texans: Consider a Shed or Cabin

Whether you're settling in a city or a more rural area, having a quality shed or cabin on your property can be incredibly useful. Texans love the outdoors, and with the state's variable climate and vast landscapes, a shed provides valuable storage space and even expands your living area.

Benefits of a Shed or Cabin in Texas:

Storage for Outdoor Equipment: If you plan on hiking, hunting, or enjoying water activities, a shed is a great place to store all your gear.

Extra Living Space: Many Texans use sheds as guest cabins, workshops, or even home offices. With a bit of insulation and some creative touches, a shed can become a cozy space for you or your guests.

Weather Protection: Texas weather can be unpredictable. High-quality sheds are built to withstand the heat, wind, and rain. Make sure to invest in a shed with durable materials to protect your belongings year-round.

Customization: Cabin sheds are incredibly customizable, whether you want a rustic, countryside look or a more modern, practical design. You can add ventilation, insulation, windows, and even solar panels to enhance the usability of the space.

Conclusion

Moving to Texas is an exciting adventure, but there are a few things to keep in mind as you make the transition. From the hot summers to the warm hospitality, Texas has a lot to offer, and knowing what to expect will make your move much smoother. And as you settle in, consider adding a shed or cabin to your property. Not only will it add value, but it will also make life in Texas a little more comfortable and organized.

Welcome to Texas, y’all!

#texas #texas news #texaslatinas

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baysideorthopaedicsau · 2 years ago

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Hip Surgery - What Happens When You Have Hip Arthroplasty?

Hip surgery Sunnybank, or total hip arthroplasty, involves replacing damaged bone and cartilage. This can relieve pain, increase range of motion and allow you to return to most activities.

Choosing a surgeon who performs high volumes of hip replacements can help you get better results. This is because more experience can lead to fewer complications.

Choosing a Surgeon

When choosing a surgeon, it is important to find out as much as you can about their background and experience. This is a very personal decision and it is important to find one that you feel comfortable with and who takes the time to answer your questions.

Ask the surgeon how many total hip replacement surgeries they perform per year. Research shows that surgeons who perform more hip replacement surgeries have lower complication rates.

Consider asking for referrals from friends and family members who have undergone this surgery. Also look for surgeons who publish their outcomes in medical journals. These journals will give you an insight into what to expect from a particular surgeon and his/her ability to improve the quality of life after the surgery.

A surgeon’s bedside manner is a big factor too. Do you feel they are compassionate and caring? This is an important question to ask because you will spend a lot of time with this surgeon before and after the surgery.

Preparing for Surgery

Before your surgery, make sure your doctor knows of any medications you take on a regular basis including over-the-counter supplements and vitamins. Your doctor may recommend a temporary change in your dosages to prevent complications with the new hip.

Arrange for someone to pick you up from the hospital on your discharge day and help with transportation to follow-up appointments. Make your home easier to get around by arranging for food deliveries, having cooking utensils in easy reach and removing tripping hazards like small rugs. Also consider a specialized rehabilitation facility.

The hospital will advise you on how to prepare for your operation, and may ask you to attend a pre-admission clinic or a hip education session (joint school). They should also inform you about how to care for the wound at home. It's helpful if you have someone to look after you at home during the recovery period and to take you shopping and on outings.

During Surgery

The surgeon makes an incision over the front or side of your hip and removes damaged bone and cartilage. They replace these with artificial parts that may be made from plastic, ceramic or metal (or a mixture). In some cases, the surgeon can use a technique called a ‘cemented’ replacement where an artificial joint is fastened to healthy bone with special glue.

All artificial joints wear to some degree and will need replacing eventually. Ceramic components generally wear less than metal or plastic. Tiny bits of bone and plastic sometimes come away from the replacement but are absorbed into the bloodstream, filtered by the kidneys and passed out of the body in the urine.

Some participants whose surgery was postponed felt frustrated and disappointed, while others were more accepting of the delay. Most wanted to know why their operation had been cancelled and how long they would have to wait before being offered a new surgery date.

Post Surgery

Once the anesthesia wears off you’ll be moved to a recovery room where the hospital team will monitor you for a few hours until your blood pressure and other vital signs are stable. You’ll be given a liquid diet and medication to prevent blood clots, infections and pain.

During this time the hospital team will start you on exercises to get you moving and increase muscle function. Your physiotherapist will help you get in and out of bed for pressure care, showering and eating. They will also show you how to use a walking frame or elbow crutches. Any drains and drips will be removed before you go home.

It is important that you follow the guidelines set out by your surgeon and therapists to ensure a good outcome. This will include getting enough rest and following exercise routines that encourage hip movement and build supportive surrounding musculature. You’ll also be advised on hip precautions to avoid dislocating the new joint.

#Surgery

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akechi-official · 2 years ago

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In your opinion, what would be the best SMT game to start with between III (remake), IV, and V? For someone who’s played Persona 3-5 but none of the main series games

Okay this is a hard question because SMT is really difficult to get into if your only reference point is Persona 3-5. You have to be willing to accept that SMT is NOT persona and you will NOT be getting the same experience.

It really depends on what aspects of Persona you like though. For me I am a huge fan of turn based RPGs so the SMT series was not a hard jump to make. But if you like Persona for the characters and the story I really don’t think mainline SMT should be your first step into other MegaTen titles because SMT is really not about the characters. It’s about the world, and the themes, much more than about the characters and story. So if you go into SMT expecting to fall in love with a diverse and deep cast of characters, you might be disappointed. My suggestion would be to go play Devil Survivor tbh. However, SMT shines in world building, concepts, themes, and presentation. You have to be willing to look a little more abstract into the world.

If you still want to try SMT, though, here are my suggestions.

I would say if you love character and story SMTIV probably has the most fleshed out characters of the three. There’s a reason people got mad at SMTIV for being too similar to persona. There’s a lot about it that’s not for the faint at heart, and it’s still a difficult game, but the concept and characters are super interesting to me so you might enjoy it. Not as deep as Persona characters, but deep enough to where you become invested in them as people.

If you’re more interested in the gameplay, SMTV might be a good bet, because I think it is very fun to play even though it’s incredibly difficult (although I am playing it on the hardest difficulty so it might be easier at a lower difficulty) and I think for newcomers it might be easier to fall into coming from Persona. But don’t expect a good story, SMTV’s story and pacing is quite frankly terrible, and I’m not a fan of the world either. Others might challenge me on that. What you’re getting is incredibly fun and fast paced gameplay at the cost of an interesting world.

SMT Nocturne really isn’t a good game for people coming straight from Persona IMO. But it is the game that invented the Press Turn system and Persona 3 likely wouldn’t be what it is without Nocturne paving the way for it. So if you’re interested in the history of MegaTen Nocturne is a must play. A lot of people have said the remake isn’t as good as the original but it is a fine way to play, especially with the bug fixes and updates. This isn’t to say Nocturne is worse than IV and V, btw, because Nocturne is hailed as one of the best. But it’s difficulty might be a barrier to keep you from enjoying it.

That’s kind of a recurring theme, because SMT is kind of intended for hardcore RPG enthusiasts the games are WAY harder than Persona. For reference, Persona 5 on Merciless is a million times easier than SMTV on Hard. You really have to think critically about every move and prep for every major battle in SMT. Persona just doesn’t have that sort of difficulty. Not to say one is better or worse than the other, they’re just for two different types of players.

I do find it funny that you don’t want to try out SMTI and SMTII. But understandable, those games require a lot of preparation to play, especially since you can soft lock yourself in them.

Sorry that I don’t have a concrete answer, but I’m leaning towards saying IV or V just because they are slightly more forgiving than Nocturne. In summary, for story, play IV. For gameplay, play V.

Or just play Strange Journey, I’ve heard that game is really good.

If you do end up playing them, let me know what you think! Hope this was helpful!

#ake-asks #shin megami tensei #shin megami tensei IV #shin megami tensei V #shin megami tensei nocturne #smt nocturne #smt iv #smt v

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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I've Told You Now - Lee Bodecker smut

The one where Lee seduced his sister's babysitter.

Warnings: smut, dubcon, age gap, innocence kink, dirty talk, loss of virginity, blood

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: This one is a part of my kinktober celebrations. My original intention for this October was to work exclusively around prompts that my wonderful friend @darkficsyouneveraskedfor created for her challenge and dedicate each story to a different friend. My new plan became then 31 days of different kinks, which expanded on a poly relationship with Stucky, as you might know by now. However, some of the stories I started were already truly loved by me, and so I kept on writing them. It worked well because as it turns out, I am fortunate enough to have more than 31 friends on Tumblr, so here is the story I wrote for @slothspaghettiwrites! You were the biggest reason I fell for Lee and it was only appropriate I wrote you this! I only hope it doesn't disappoint! Special thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog who helped me believe this was good enough to be posted! @sweeterthanthis also has a big hand at this!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I was finishing packing up the toys in the living room when I heard the door slam, startling me into dropping the box of legos on the ground. Looking at the clock, I considered the time before looking back at the hall again. When no one appears from the hallway, I get confused. If the Hendersons hadn’t come home earlier than they intended, who else could it be?

“Waiting for me, bunny?” I immediately straightened out at the sight of Sheriff Bodecker, trying to resist the urge not to flush and keep eye contact, but ultimately failing to do so. I hadn’t seen him since the night he offered to give me a ride home and I ended up with his cock in my throat, his cum in my mouth.

“I-I didn’t even know you were coming.” Silence followed my confession as he slowly approached, eyes never leaving my body while I tried to keep myself up. He’d always had this effect on me. I remembered being a young girl and Sheriff Bodecker being the crush I knew was too old to be mine, the guy I’d never have even in a million years, but that didn’t stop me from daydreaming about him.

If I thought that maybe having him would help this infatuation disappear, it’d become clear by now that it wouldn’t be the case at all.

“And here I was, thinking you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.” The Sheriff tsked, and the sound went straight to my already dampened underwear. I couldn’t process his words very well, given how close he was and how loud my own heartbeat was ringing in my ears. Did he mean to say that he actually really wanted me?

“If that was really the case,” he taunted, circling me like I was some sort of prey. “You’d always be expecting me, wouldn’t you? But it’s alright, honey. You know why?” When I shook my head, he answered his own question, a single finger running down my jaw to guide me to look him in the eye. “Because I think you were expecting me. You’re always expecting me, looking for me wherever you go, just like I do. And there’s an easy way to prove my theory.”

Before I could question it, his arms embraced me from behind, hands slowly running down my stomach until they reached the edge of my skirt. I started sweating in anticipation. I knew what he would find.

“Let me check.” His fingers went over the fabric first, and he chuckled when he noticed how wet it was. “Would you look at that?” I was already trembling when he pulled my panties to the side and ran that same digit over my lower lips, just lightly grazing them. “Soaked already.”

Although I couldn’t see it, the humming sound he emitted after taking his fingers from under my dress didn’t leave me any doubt about what he did with the moisture he collected. Just the thought of him enjoying my taste that much had me weak in the knees, and I tried to keep myself up by reaching for a chair nearby.

Lee’s P.O.V.

I chuckled to myself at how sensitive she was, barely able to keep up with the little I’d done so far. Then again, it was clear I had a particularly strong effect on her. That had been obvious for a while, ever since she started working for my sister, probably - around the same age her womanly features began to stand out.

She seemed unable to look me directly in the eyes, always averting her gaze and biting her lower lip when I decided to stop around here for a coffee or check in on the little rugrat. I began doing this a lot more often after she was hired, but neither her nor my sister seemed to connect the dots.

Her innocence, her beauty just left me so fucking hard. I was hard right then, and I wanted her to know it. So I pressed my body against her back, lightly grinding my member against the curve of her ass.

“I suppose you’re finished for the day,” I speculated, knowing once the kid was out all she had to do was wait for my sister and her husband to arrive. “Guess I can help you unwind…”

She gasped when she felt my hardness, making me chuckle. “Your sister and her husband should be back soon…” She tried to reason, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“We’ll be quiet anyway. Can’t risk waking up the kid.” I gripped her wrist and pulled her on the direction of the guest bedroom, now fully unable to control myself. I was so close to having what I had wanted for so long.

She looked unsure of herself as I closed the door behind us, and I raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” She shifted her weight from one foot to another, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.

“I-I don’t know about this…” Chuckling, I approached her to cradle her face between my hands and deposit a kiss on those sweet lips.

“Don’t you trust me, pretty girl?” I had caught her now, we both knew it. She’d never risk disappointing or offending me, so when her mouth opened to explain herself and I raised an eyebrow in warning, it was only a matter of seconds until she closed it altogether and nodded, her eyes dropping to her feet.

“Yes, I do.” My smirk was full of victory, and I could taste it in my lips now. It was as sweet as the nectar between her legs I’d only had a taste of.

“There you go.” Approaching her once more, I settled my hands on her hips before leaning to kiss her shoulder. “Besides…” I continued, already bunching up her dress to get rid of it as quickly as possible. “You obviously need me to take care of you and this little wet hole.”

She bucked when my fingers rubbed her this time, dress already forgotten on the floor as I slowly shoved down the fabric of her underwear to join it. Once she was completely naked, I ran my digits over her cunt, verifying that her wetness was already so overwhelming that it was threatening to drip from her.

“So sweet.” I hummed once I wrapped my lips around those digits, tasting her on my tongue again. Yes, I was already obsessed. I think anyone who had the chance to try her nectar would understand my situation - but no one ever would.

She was mine now, and I would never let her go.

“C’mon, bunny.” Patting her ass, I directed her to the bed, chuckling at how embarrassed she seemed, being this exposed to my hungry gaze. “Be a good girl and spread your legs. Be my little angel, won’t you?”

I wished I could have done this somewhere more private - my own house, instead of my sister’s. But I just couldn’t wait anymore. My cock twitched inside my pants. I felt like I was drunk on this, drunk on her.

“C’mon, honey!” I repeated, lightly slapping the outside of her thigh. “I wanna fuck you. And I know you want to be mine, pretty girl. You can’t hide it from me.”

When she finally relented and slowly parted her beautiful legs for me, I nearly melted at the sight. Driven by my desire, I unbuckled my belt and worked to whip my cock out as quickly as possible, smirking at the wide, innocent eyes that settled on my member as I fisted it in preparation.

“Doesn’t it look good?” I teased, climbing on the bed to take my spot between her legs, rubbing the head of my dick against her slit. “I’m gonna have you taste it next time. But for now…”

Resting my forehead against hers, I slowly started to penetrate her tight pussy, slipping only the head at first, even though I was aching to fuck her throughly.

“This is gonna hurt a little,” I warned, not able to stop mid-way to let her adjust but keeping my invasion of her maidenhood slow until I had bottomed out inside of her. “Sh…” I tried to calm her, gently wiping away the few tears running down her soft cheeks. “I know it hurts, bunny. But you can take it, can’t you?”

She managed to nod despite her whimpers, and I brushed her tears away as I warned her, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.”

It took a little while, but at last, she opened her eyes and I waited until she was able to focus them on me again. “You look so pretty, bunny…” I whispered, kissing her while I finally started to move inside of her, stopping only to moan out loud at her overwhelming tightness.

“I’m gonna train you until all you can think about is my cock,” I warned her, slowly pulling out until only the head of my cock was keeping her open.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Slamming my dick all the way in, I felt her nails running down my back, leaving trails of blood behind - trails I wouldn’t mind wearing under my shirt, sting as they might.

“I promise you, honey…” I panted, sweat already dripping from my forehead onto her pretty face. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m not inside of you.”

I kissed her cheek, rubbing my nose against it as she held me tightly against her. “I know you don’t want any of those boys you used to go to school with touching what I’ve already taken.”

She nodded quickly, my pretty little honey. Yes, she was mine already and she knew it. “It’s alright, pretty girl…” I soothed her as she started to whine, her cunt clenching deliciously around me. “It’s alright, cum with me…”

She closed her eyes when she met bliss, but I kept mine wide open so I wouldn’t miss her perfect expression of pleasure. It was almost enough to keep me hard, but I wasn’t as young as I once was.

I never pulled out of her tight heaven, keeping her body snuggled against me. I was happy that I decided to be patient, if it meant I now got to have her like this.

“I hope you know that you’re mine now, bunny.”

#my fics #lee bodecker #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker reader #smut #lee bodecker reader insert #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker reader inserts

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

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5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peeks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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animalanie · 3 years ago

Text

Oneshot - The Millionaire Detective Balance: Unlimited [Careless Mistakes]

Fandom: The Millionaire Detective Balance: Unlimited

Title: Careless Mistakes

Pairing: Daisuke Kambe X Female Reader

Word Count: +2K

Warning(s): None, just an attempt at fluff <3

Requested on Wattpad

A/N: Thanks a lot for requesting this. I'm not too used to writing fluff XP but I hope you like it! I had loads of fun writing it!

If you enjoyed my work and want to look for more, here is my masterlist. Or you could request here from any of these shows!

A grunt escaped your lips as you banged your head against the steering wheel, not caring if the impact will cause a bruise on your forehead. The sirens in the distance indicated that your much-needed backup was finally arriving at the crime scene, where you and your partner had incapacitated the culprit. With some remaining energy, you lifted your head to stare at the police cars that stopped not too far away from where you sat in your car.

Knowing your partner would take care of filling them in on the situation, you rested your head once more and slowly ran your hand through your hair.

"I just want to go home," You complained and closed your eyes, only to open them soon as the passenger side's door opened. You did not need to turn your head as you already knew who it was and simply stayed still in the same position. No words were exchanged as he sat down and closed the door behind him, continuing to stare at you, as if he were analysing you.

"You look tired." He finally concluded and you snorted before pushing yourself off the wheel.

"No way, thanks for letting me know." You rested your head against the seat and turned to look at him as he stared back at you in curiosity.

"No, I meant you look more tired than usual. Something terrible must have happened." He shook his head and poked your forehead to irritate you further. You gasped and swatted his hand away, bringing your own on the steering wheel before you mentally prepared yourself to start the car.

"You could've said it nicely, you know?" You spared him a brief glance from the corner of your eyes before turning the key in the ignition.

"I could have, yes." He smirked in your direction as he waited for your reaction, which was exactly what he expected.

"Daisuke~" You groaned and hit him lightly on his right shoulder, causing him to chuckle. "Why do I spend time with you?" You mumbled to yourself as you changed gears but stopped before you could start driving. You exhaled and closed your eyes, feeling them burning from lack of sleep.

"What's wrong?" His playful tone disappeared the instant you drooped your head and placed it onto the steering wheel. Daisuke brought his hand closer to your face and gently moved your strands to tuck them behind your ear. His fingers lingered, almost cradling your head in his hands, as he focused his attention on your expression.

"It's probably nothing, I hope." You shook your head and turned to him to see him furrowing his eyebrows. He moved his hand from behind your head and closer to your face to rub a gentle thumb across your cheek as he continued staring.

"When is the last time you got any rest?" He looked up into your eyes but you turned your gaze away as you knew your answer would displease him. "Y/N, when's the last time you rested?" He repeated and you raised your eyes to meet his.

"I haven't slept since the last two nights." You whispered and shifted back in fear of his response. To your surprise, he only sighed and shook his head.

"I can't even pretend to be surprised anymore." He said to himself before removing his hand from your cheek and getting out of the car. You tilted your head as you stared at him while he walked around the front of the car and to your side.

"Daisuke?" You asked as he opened your side of the door and bent over you to unbuckle your seatbelt. You stared at his profile in shock and froze at the sudden proximity, while he smoothly removed the belt and gave your knee a little nudge afterward.

"Sit on the other side. I'll drive." As much as you appreciated the sentiment, you knew better than to trust Daisuke's reckless driving.

"No, it's okay. I can drive," You waved your hand lightly in dismissal and remained seated, smiling a little in hopes of winning this argument. But when Daisuke made no effort to move back to the passenger's seat, you sighed and slumped your shoulders.

"I will pick you up myself if you don't get up." He warned and looked down at you for a response. You remained silent and he bent down again in response, ready to pick you up with his hands reaching out towards you.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up!" You raised your hands up in defence and stepped out as Daisuke stared at you with a small smirk appearing on his lips. "Alright, you can stop being so smug." You crossed your arms against your chest and pouted as you began walking to the other side while he did the exact opposite by widening his smirk. You turned your gaze away from him, feeling slightly flustered by the range of his expressions today.

I could just be exhausted enough to be delusional.

You attempted to convince yourself as you entered the car once more and buckled your seatbelt in. As Daisuke settled in the driver's seat, you took this opportunity to gaze at him once more, wanting to start a conversation. That was when you looked back outside, at the police cars that had stopped in front of the building.

"Did they take the culprit in?" You asked, your eyes still fixated on the scene.

"You don't need to concern yourself with that right now. I will let you know everything tomorrow morning, first thing." He stared at you briefly before switching his attention behind him so he could reverse the car. You huffed and looked away from the other police officers and at him in disappointment.

"Come on! I'm your partner for this case, you're supposed to tell me what's going on."

"Then you should have been there while I was briefing them." He raised his eyebrows at you as he stated the matter of the fact.

"You're so mean," You mumbled, not having a better comeback for his statement.

"You don't seem to mind that too much, I've noticed." Your eyes widened as he claimed, confidence dripping in his tone.

"That's not- I... Stop assuming everything!" You stumbled on your words and resorted to staring out the window when he scoffed at your reaction.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you up once we reach your home." He suggested after a moment of silence and without hesitation, you nodded and leaned comfortably against the seat.

"You know where my house is, right?" You asked, as if challenging him slightly.

"How many times have I been to your house by now? Let us see," He wrapped his fingers around his chin and pretended to think, causing you to chuckle.

"Alright, alright, just making sure."

"Mhm, sure." He hummed and began driving while you focused on getting some rest since your house was not too far away. The quiet humming of the car and the whish of other cars passing by you put you to sleep a lot faster than you had anticipated.

As you drifted off, Daisuke occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were comfortable and to get a look at your sleeping face so he could tease you later about it. Your face being highlighted by the streetlights distracted him a lot more than he would prefer, but he would never admit that to you so you would never know.

Soon, you two arrived in front of your house and Daisuke parked the car in front, turning off the headlights along with the engine and looking at you. He leaned over slightly and removed your hair from in front of your eyes, getting a better look at you.

"Y/N," He whispered and ran his hand through your hair to get you to wake up quicker. "Y/N, we're home. Wake up." You only hummed in response and leaned into Daisuke's touch, to which he cracked a small smile. He pulled away and unbuckled his seatbelt before getting out of the car and walking over to open your door. After freeing you of your belt, he slid one arm under your knees and the other under your lower back, picking you up with ease.

Stepping up to your front door, he sat you down on the swing of your porch and stood straight, not knowing how to get the key from you. Hesitantly, he reached into your pant's pocket and found your house key without having to search further. He opened the front door and walked back to you, taking you once again in his arms and entering your house. It was a wonder how you had slept through all the moving around.

As he stood at the entrance, he stepped on the heel of his other shoe to take it off, repeating the process for the other, and walked further in. Carefully, he pushed his elbow against a light switch to turn on the lights for the staircase and began walking up, where your bedroom was. Once he reached the upper floor, he felt a soft hold on him and looked down to see you clutching onto his jacket, still sound asleep.

He shook his head and continued walking, tightening his grip on you as he pushed the door to your room. Gently, Daisuke placed you on the bed, causing your grip on him to release its hold as you hummed at the loss of contact. He took the blanket at the end of your bed and draped it over you before standing up straight.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He mumbled before stepping away and placing your house and car keys on the bedside table. Surprisingly, you woke up to his sound and lifted your head to see him looking at you.

"Daisuke?" You questioned, still groggy from your incomplete sleep, which made him chuckle lightly.

"Yes, it's me. Don't worry, I was just about to leave so you can rest." He whispered. His outline being illuminated from the hallway light that shone like a spotlight into your bedroom.

"What? No," You rubbed your eyes and sat up with the support of your elbow as you looked around your room momentarily. "How are you going to go at this time?"

"You shouldn't worry too much about me. I have means to get home."

"Right, of course. I forgot: you're Daisuke Kambe." You chuckled while he shook his head.

"Well, I'll get going now. Don't be late tomorrow." He fixed his hair as he looked at you and you smiled, nodding sleepily. Before he could walk away, however, you grabbed onto his sleeve and pulled him closer to you.

"Thank you so much for taking care of me, Daisuke." You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his neck while he remained stiff in your hold, unsure of what to do. When you felt his breath hitch, you wondered if you were too forward by hugging him without asking.

"Of course," He finally muttered and wrapped his arms around your back in a hesitant hug. You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled a small one when you felt his hands rub your back before you finally pulled away.

"Take care, okay?" You looked up at him and could see him smile from the features that were illuminated in the dark.

"I should be saying that to you. You're the one who hasn't gotten enough sleep." He ruffled your hair while you stuck your tongue out in mischief. "You do look adorable while sleeping, though, I must say." You let out a sound that would closely resemble shock as your eyes widened. "Goodnight, Y/N." With a knowing grin, he stood straight and walked out of your room, leaving you sitting there, speechless.

Once you heard the front door close, you finally snapped out of your daze and felt heat rush to your cheeks as you replayed his words to you. You placed your hands on your face as you felt yourself getting flustered and questioned how you were supposed to look him in the eyes tomorrow after what just happened.

There was no questioning that you would have trouble sleeping tonight as well.

#the millionare detective balance: unlimited #oneshot #daisuke kambe #daisuke kambe x reader #female reader #anime

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nagito-kissmaeda · 4 years ago

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Mother May I Sleep with Danger - Servant!Nagito Komaeda x Reader

ミ☆ not a request, I’m just really horny for servant asjdkfkflddj

Summary: future foundation reader is kidnapped by the WOH and figures if they’re going to die anyway……..

Contains: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem reader, no pronouns used

Word Count: 3589

The foundation is not going to be happy with you.

Not only did you balls up your mission into Towa City, but now your uniform is ripped all to hell, basically slashed to ribbons by the Monokuma who managed to overpower you. It was your new set too, all fresh and clean. This mess is going to get you seriously mocked by the men in operations when you get back.

That is if the foundation even lets you back onto the helicopter after this disaster of a mission.

You huff and turn to face the man lurking in the far corner of your cell. He’s been standing there for the past 20 minutes, just shaking and staring at you with wide grey eyes. You had been planning to just ignore him until he left, but he isnt leaving, “What do you want?”

He doesn’t answer, just wraps his arms around himself and starts giggling.

“Are you just going to stand there all day?” You snap, crossing your arms and glaring up at him from your seat on the floor, “If you’re going to kill me just get it over with, the anticipation has all but worn off and I'm just starting to get angry.”

“Ah...kill you?” He giggles again. His voice is a lot gentler than you had been expecting. What with the manic eyes and tangled hair. You were prepared for him to be downright menacing. He sucks in a breath and levels his gaze with you, “I wouldn't kill you. That would be waste.” The chain around his throat jangles as he gestures at you with his mitted hand, knees wobbling like they are barely strong enough to keep him upright, “Honestly, a bug like myself killing you would help no one. It would be utterly disappointing for both sides, and what is the point in that? No despair...no hope...ahhhhaaaa…” he brings the cuff of his jacket up to his mouth and starts gnawing on it, “it would be completely pointless...mm?”

“Why haven't the children killed you?” Your brows draw together, watching his balance shifting from foot to foot, “You must be at least eighteen, right?”

He wheezes, throwing one shoulder up in a haphazard shrug, “Older. I think. I honestly can’t remember.”

For some reason. A terrible little voice in the back of your head whispers - Hey, at least it’s legal! You balk at your own lack of decorum. The man is still currently chewing so furiously on his sleeve that drool has started rolling down his chin, his hair is so matted that if you dug your fingers into it you would probably never get them out again. You are smart enough to take one look at this wheezing, sweating, drooling mess of a man and think: gross.

Unfortunately, your cunt is dumb enough to disagree.

Maybe it’s because you’re going to die anyway. Maybe it’s because his black jeans cling very tightly to his thighs. Maybe you just have terrible taste in men. It doesn’t matter why, but for some godforsaken reason, you are attracted to him.

“So. Are they just keeping you around as a--” you examine him again, eyes locking on the chain dangling down by his knees. (why does looking at that make you want to rub your thighs together?) “--a...pet?”

He laughs again, finally letting the sleeve he was chewing on drop back down to his side, “A fitting position for someone like me, but no. I am their servant.” The man takes a step towards you, the chain jangles in ways that your insides apparently find arousing. You swallow, “I came to this town to seek refuge, but...well...you can see how that turned out.” he laughs again, shoulders quaking with the noise. You can help but notice the stiff way the hand obscured by his mitt is moving. Like he doesn't have any real control over it.

“Ah.” You say, eyes still focussed on the hand you cannot see, but can imagine perfectly well. That hand, along with his age, seem to only lead to one conclusion, “You’re one of the remnants of despair, aren’t you?”

He grins at you, manic, all sharp teeth and wild eyes, taking another step closer to you “Oh! I didn’t expect you to recognise common garbage like me…” he makes a noise that is dangerously close to being a moan, before exclaiming, “you’re right, I am!” His grin turns syrupy in a way that you find yourself enjoying much more than you should. His eyes hooded as he breathes, “does that disgust you? Does my very presence make you want to spit in my face?”

The way he speaks, his soft lilting tone. It almost sounds like he is crooning, purring. You shift on the floor, trying to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs. You have gone from wanting to fuck a regular crazy man, to wanting to fuck a crazy man literally out for capture by the company you work for.

“Listen.” You start, suddenly nervous, “The foundation is looking for you, all of you. But Togami in the other cell and I are working with-”

Your words catch in your throat when he comes barreling towards you and claps his bare hand over your mouth. His eyes are wild when they meet yours, pupils little more than pinpricks in dark swirling circles that dig deep inside of you, his voice drops to a terrifying whisper, “No. Not yet...I have important work I must do and you will not keep me from it.”

“We want to help.” You hiss into the meat of his palm. Horrified at how you feel the jagged grin that tugs at his mouth deep in your stomach. His mouth pulls so wide that his lips tear and bleed, drool pooling at the corners of his mouth and dripping over his lips when he starts laughing again, loud and manic, wheezing and decrepit.

“You truly are an embodiment of hope. You think you can...ah...haha…” He wheezes again, tangled white hair falling over his face and he tries to hold in a laugh, “You truly think you can help me? What a feat that would be! Endlessly impressive I’m sure” He leans in closer to you, eyes calm once again, hooded and piercing, “Thank you for your kindness, but I assure you. It will not be so simple.”

His face is so close to yours now, you can feel his breath on your face, see the bags under his eyes and the way his papery skin has wrinkled around the corners of his mouth. He looks half dead, but under that. You see soft skin, pretty long eyelashes and what are undoubtedly the most stunning eyes you have ever seen. You are going to die soon anyway, so you dont stop yourself from whispering, “You were very pretty once. Weren’t you?”

His lips curl into a smile, but his eyes look almost sad, “Most would disagree.”

“Hm. That’s a shame.” you whisper, trying to ignore the seductive tone you have adopted, “I think you’re still quite pretty now.”

He lets out a wheezing giggle, dropping down into a crouch in front of you and resting his hands on his knees, “Are you trying to win me over with words of kindness? With sharp lies wrapped in goose down?”

They aren't lies, but you can tell he won't believe you even if you try to convince him, “Just tell me what you want with me.”

“What do I want with you?” He breathes, reaching out a shaky hand and running his knuckles down your cheek. One side of his mouth quirks up in a smile at the feeling of your skin, “I don’t want anything...eheh...I just...I just want to watch. I want to see what you will do, I want to see you fight.”

“I’d be able to fight better if you let me out of the cell.”

“Aha. Cute.” He drags his tongue over his lower lip, “But wouldn't it be so much more satisfying to watch you overcome impossible odds? For your hope to overcome the utmost despair?” His head tilts to the side and he smiles, “I have faith in you. I’ll be cheering you on, just dont expect my help.”

The more he talks, the less you understand him. At this point you're barely even listening to his words and are just letting the soft tones of his voice wash over you, his eyes are blinding, it feels like he is staring straight through you. The door of the cell is still locked, Togami is still far enough away that he couldn't hear you if you screamed. Help won't be coming for a long time if it is even coming at all.

And you want to fuck a remnant of despair.

“What’s your name, pretty boy?” you whisper, reaching out a hand to push some of his tangled hair away from his face.

He stills, for a moment. The panic in his eyes is so powerful that even his ceaseless shivering stops. He blinks slowly, unsurely, and his lips pull up in a smile, “My pathetic name isn't even worthy of being heard by someone like you.” he breathes, leaning into your hand as it comes to rest on his cheek, “Servant will suffice.”

You make an upset noise, sitting up on your knees and leaning in closer to his face. His eyes aren’t grey, you realise, they’re green, “Are you sure? I was hoping for something a little more...intimate.”

“Intimate…” he whispers, almost like he is testing how the word tastes on his tongue. His face is so close to yours now, your hand reaches around and curls into the mess of hair on the back of his head. He starts shivering again, a wheezy laugh escaping his mouth almost breathlessly as he (with a surprising amount of tenderness) lowers you down to lay on the hard concrete below, “Is...this what you mean?”

Your heart is racing. He looms above you, knees planted firmly on either side of your hips. His hair tumbles down over his face, obscuring his beautiful green eyes in shadow and you feel your hips twitch upward at even the anticipation of his touch.

“Exactly what I mean.” you purr, slowly sliding your hand down the length of his chain. He quivers above you, a broken moan leaves his mouth when you give it a gentle tug. Your lips curl into a predatory smirk, and then you tug it again, hard.

His mouth collides with yours and a shocked gasp escapes his throat, his arms shake at your sides, desperate and almost panicked. It only takes a moment for him to soften, returning the kiss with a newfound passion, moaning deep and loud into your mouth and leaning into you. His kisses feel a little messy and unpracticed, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. Choking on a groan when you bury a hand in his hair and pull tight on the strands.

He moves away from your mouth, trailing down the side of your throat and sucking hard on your skin. You can feel his breath hot and heavy in your ear as his tongue lathes over your flesh, teeth sinking in hard into the join between your throat and shoulder.

A moan breaks free from your mouth, and your hips buck upward high enough to meet Servant’s and you can feel his gasp against your skin. He grinds his hips down on yours in response, sucking in a breath at the friction.

“This…this really is my lucky day…” he whines, leaning back on his heels and undoing the few surviving buttons on your shirt. Your bra is conservative, skin toned and unflattering. It’s designed for missions out into the wastes of the world, not for whatever is happening right now.

Servant doesn’t seem to mind, running his tongue across his chapped lower lip, eyes blown wide as he drinks in your form. A shudder runs through him, and he swallows, “may I?”

You nod, “please…touch me…”

He giggles, gripping your breasts in both of his hands (though the hand hidden by the mitt is only really able to press down, but he is trying his best.) before burying his face between them, sighing happily against your skin. You choke on a moan when you feel his tongue run up your cleavage, hands squeezing almost desperately.

“Servant…” you whisper, “my bra, take it off…”

He leans up, a shy smile on his face, “Ah, I would like to! But uh, as I’m sure you know-“ he waves at you with his mitted hand, “-I can’t really use these fingers”

The thought of the dead hand attached at his forearm should deter you, but it doesn’t. You sit up just enough to unclasp your bra, chucking it off into the corner of the cell before grabbing Servant’s bare hand and pressing it to your breast. Servant chokes, brushing his thumb over your nipple.

Your breath hitches, and he is emboldened enough to take the other into his mouth. Your back instinctively arches upward, chasing the warmth of his mouth encasing your nipple, the finger and thumb on his bare hand pinching at twitching the other. His tongue is wet and sloppy, this is no precision to his licks and sucks. The servant is running on animalistic desperation alone.

Luckily, that doesn’t bother you much at all.

The cool metal of the chain presses down hard on your bare stomach, his mitt is scratchy where that hand is pressed firmly to your waist, not able to grab, but it still reads as possessive. You can feel him panting and moaning against your breast, his tangled white hair brushing against your skin in a way that makes you shiver. Your sex is aching, the way he furiously circles his tongue around your nipple feels almost feral and it makes you want more.

You hook your leg around the back of his knees, and use the leverage to flip the both of you over. Servant gasps when his back hits the ground. You grin, physical training at the Future Foundation is finally coming in handy.

Servant looks like a perfect ruin beneath you. His hair spread out on the hard concrete, eyes glassy with desire, cheeks bright red and mouth wet with saliva. You laugh, you can feel him quivering below you. The quivering grows worse when you tug his black jacket down off his shoulders and start working his shirt up and over his head. He is so thin, sickly, shaking, barely even there. All jutting bones and paper thin skin.

“Are they feeding you?” you find yourself asking quite seriously.

Servant giggles, “They’re children. I feed myself when I find the time.”

“You don't often find the time, do you?” he sucks in a breath when the tip of your finger runs up over his exposed ribs. You lean down and press a hot kiss to his collarbone, “Are you sure that you’ll have enough energy for this?”

“Ehehe...Don’t concern yourself with that-“ he leans up enough to lick all the way up the length of your throat, “I can be quite tenacious when required”

You don't doubt it. Leaning back down to kiss him firmly, licking into his open mouth as your hands trail down his torso and to the button on his jeans. He whines loudly when you undo the zipper and wrap your fist around the hardness in his boxers. His hips stutter up into your grip and you smile against his lips. He’s cute. It’s cute how desperate he is. You sit up, grinding your hips down against his, moaning aloud at the feeling of his cock pressing firmly against your clit through your panties.

Servant breaks out into a breathless giggle, panting and moaning as he pushes his hips up to meet yours, shivery and insatiable. The only light in the room is a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, just bright enough to catch on his teeth when his chapped lips curl back in a grin.

“Yes~” He whines when you grind down again, pretty eyes fluttering closed and white hair spreading even further across the concrete, “use me use me use me!”

You like that. You like that a lot, “You want to be used?” you breathe, sitting up just enough that you can wriggle out of your panties, hiking your tight pencil skirt up over your hips.

“Please...please…” he whimpers, hips stuttering up even though there is nothing to meet them. Drool trailing down his chin, “I want you to use me for your pleasure…” he gasps out a moan, like even the thought of it is too much for him, “...cum all over me...please...ruin me…”

“Okay…” you whisper, pulling his boxers and jeans down his thighs to expose his cock, he hisses a breath in through his teeth that turns into a moan when you grab him, “Can you be a good boy and stay still for me?”

He nods furiously. Thighs and stomach tensing as he forces himself not to move. It becomes even harder when you slowly slip yourself down on him, letting your head loll back in a moan at the feeling of him filling you. He cries out, hands jumping up to grab at your waist, trying so hard to keep his hips still when all he wants is to chase your warmth.

A smile crawls its way across your face when you lean forward, placing your arms on either side of his head. He stares up at you, enamoured with you, face flushed red and mouth hung open, “You feel so good, Servant.” you croon, slowly licking up the shell of his ear.

He mewls, thrusting up inside of you just a little. He just can't resist.

“I’m...I’m sorry, I'm so pathetic ehehe” he pants, “Can’t even follow such a simple order.”

“Well, hopefully you will do better with this next one.” You start, adjusting yourself so your bare breasts are now right in front of his face, “suck.”

He doesn't waste one second, licking up under one of your nipples and then pulling it into his mouth. Peering up at you through his pretty eyelashes as he sucks languidly on your tit, swirling his tongue around and moaning so deeply that you can feel the vibrations.

“Ahh…ah! You’re such a pretty boy, aren’t you?”

He nods

“Such a good boy.”

He nods again, moving his hands from your waists to your breasts, pressing them close enough together that he is able to suck on both nipples at once.

“Oh! Ohhhhhhhhh fuck- I…hng…” you rock your hips forward, keening loudly when the head of his cock meets your g-spot. Servant is still trying to stay still. Panting loudly as he furiously licks and sucks on both of your nipples. Wet and sloppy with little to no precision, so desperate to taste you, to devour you. The pleasure in your stomach is curling and twisting, the feeling of him so deep inside you, quivering as he resists the urge to move. It’s so much and not enough all at once.

“Servant…” you groan, hips twitching forward enough to grind your clit down on his pelvis, “you…you can move…”

His hips snap up immediately. He doesn’t waste even a second to drill himself deep inside of you, almost sobbing against the flesh of your breasts when the desperation he has been holding in finally gets to escape. He is animalistic, he is hungry. His hands move from your breasts to grip tightly to your hips, encouraging you to bounce up and down on his cock.

Luckily you don’t need much encouragement. Sitting up enough that your breasts leave his mouth with a lurid pop, throwing your head back and riding him like your life depends on it. Underneath you, you can hear the sound of his chain jangling with the force of his upward thrusts, along with his staccato breathing as he loses himself deeper and deeper within you.

Sweat drips down your forehead, down between your shoulder blades, it feels so good, it feels so wrong. The ever present itch of his mitt presses against your skin, a grim reminder of everything he is, everything he has done. It only turns you on more.

“I…I…AHAHAH! I’m…close.” He stammers, eyes wide when they fixate on the spot where you are joined, sharing himself disappearing inside of you again and again. His bare hand slides down your side and around to your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles that make your hips jump forward.

It’s too much, you can feel your insides growing tighter and tighter as his fingers bring you closer to the release you need so badly. Tossing your head back with a strangled moan as you finally cum, clenching hard around his cock and almost sobbing with how good it feels, how good he feels.

As Servant chases your release with his own, breaking into a breathless laughed as he pounds you with reckless abandon, cumming deep inside of you-

You can’t help but think that the foundation is really not going to be happy with you now.

But as Servant comes down from his high, his grip softens, his eyes grow sleepy, and he gives you a gentle smile that makes you heart race just a little-

And you realise that you don’t really care anymore.

#Nagito x reader #komaeda x reader #danganronpa x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #sorry about the formatting I’m on mobile right now I’ll fix it tomorrow lolololol

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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years ago

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Unlucky in Love

masterlist

Gif credit to @ogledalo-moje-duse

Summary: Spencer is unlucky in love - until he isn’t.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive content

Word Count: 3.4k

�� Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. In his early twenties, Spencer often caught himself fantasizing about being on the receiving end of some great storybook romance straight out of one of the classic novels on his bookshelf. On the rare occurrence where his mind was able to slow down long enough, Spencer would daydream about what his future partner would be like. Would they share his fondness for the written word, or his penchant for foreign cinema? Would they find his tendency to go off on tangents endearing and his less than fashionable style of dress charming? Spencer liked to think so, but the likelihood of finding someone who could accept him despite all of his quirks seemed low.

But still he hoped, even though he knew hope was a dangerous thing. Hope gave life to the possibility of disappointment – and if there was one thing Spencer did not need more of, it was that.

Spencer Reid was in love with the idea of love – obsessed with the idea of his soul intertwining with someone else’s. But with his thirtieth birthday quickly approaching and absolutely no prospective love interests in sight, Spencer was feeling more than a little disheartened. It certainly didn’t help that everywhere he turned, love was running rampant. Hotch had Beth, Penelope had Kevin, Jennifer had Will, and Morgan had… any number of possible partners. Emily and Rossi were both unattached, but happily so in a way that Spencer just couldn’t quite manage.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing the people around him happy – it was just that he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d finally get his chance at love.

A month before Spencer’s thirtieth birthday, everything changes.

When a member of Garcia’s victims’ support group goes missing, it’s all hands on deck at the BAU. It’s not that they’d give any less than one hundred percent on any other given day, but as with any case that hits close to home, everyone on the team is in a frenzy trying to put the pieces together. The thing that makes this case different is the fact that people from other departments are quick to lend a hand. It comes as no surprise to Spencer – Penelope is a social butterfly by nature. She made it her business to know and befriend everyone in the building. Her sunny disposition is hard not to love, and her current distress had garnered the support of more than a few non-team members.

By the time the case wraps up, the bullpen is much busier and, much to Spencer’s chagrin, much louder than usual. The steady influx of people has Spencer’s head spinning and he can’t seem to focus on the papers sitting in front of him. What should take him thirty seconds to read has almost taken twenty minutes, and at this point the words on the paper are all running together. Spencer knows that it doesn’t help that he’s running on less than three hours of sleep, as evidenced by the frequency of his yawns. Worse even is the fact that his coffee cup is empty and no, he thinks, that simply will not do. With a sigh Spencer pushes away from his desk, bones creaking as he stands.

With his coffee cup in hand, Spencer shuffles to the breakroom. He goes through the motions of preparing his drink, lazily stirring in the mountain of sugar before turning to leave.

Spencer supposes that if it weren’t for the fact that he was horribly sleep deprived, he would’ve seen you walking down the hallway. But alas, Spencer’s alertness had been compromised by poor sleeping habits, and he isn’t aware of your presence until his body is colliding with yours and his hot coffee is dripping down the front of your blouse.

“Ouch,” you whimper, and Spencer is immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

“O-Oh my God, I am so sorry,” he splutters. Without waiting for a response, Spencer’s rushing into the break room and procuring a thick stack of napkins. The part of his brain that controls logical thinking is apparently overrun by the onset of his mortification, and in an act of absolutely panic, he begins to dab at the stains with one of the napkins.

“I-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m so so sorry,” Spencer stutters out, frantically attempting to blot the stain. “I’ll give you money for a new shirt. A-Actually, you should probably take this one off. The best way to treat scalds is to immediately get the person away from the heat source. You should also run some cold water over it.”

In his hurry to rectify his mistake, Spencer hadn’t managed to take a good look at you. When his eyes leave the stain in favor of looking at your face, he prepares himself to see anger there. What he doesn’t expect is for your face to be just as flushed as his, with eye brows raised in shock.

Spencer also doesn’t expect this to be the moment he’s been waiting on his entire life, but one look into your eyes tells him this is it - this is your person.

Stunned into a stupor, Spencer stills, eyes boring into your own. You’re even more beautiful than he’d dared to let himself imagine, but in all honesty that didn’t matter much. What matters is the fact that there’s a faint hint of smile lines etched into your skin, and your eyes are so inherently kind that Spencer has no doubt that you’re as gentle as you are alluring. Your benevolence is also evidenced by the fact that you hadn’t immediately begun to yell at him, and for that he is thankful.

Spencer’s revelation renders him unable to form any semblance of thought, and before he knows it almost a solid minute of him gaping at you passes. You begin to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I, uh, appreciate the help, and you seem like a nice enough guy, but your hand is on my boob and I kind of make it a point to not let strangers touch the goods. So, if you don’t mind,” you stammer, looking pointedly at his hand that is still pressing a napkin to your chest. Spencer recoils as if he’s the one that’s been scalded.

“I-I didn’t mean to, um, t-touch your -,” Spencer gulps, “- chest. I swear I was just trying to get the stain out. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he chokes out. Spencer had imagined the moment he’d come face to face with his person a million times, and none of his daydreams had accounted for the possibility of him giving her second degree burns and inadvertently copping a feel. His emotions fell somewhere between mortification and elation.

“Mm likely story,” you murmur, lips upturning into a smile that has Spencer feeling weak in the knees. Spencer practically swoons. “Do you make it a habit to ask strangers to take their tops off, or am I just special?”

Oh God, had I really suggested that? Spencer cringes and wonders what good an IQ as high as his was when it seemed to fail him at times like these. Speaking to women had never been a specialty of his, despite Derek’s coaching, and Spencer was floundering to come up with an acceptable response.

You are the most special woman in the world, probably. Nope – too creepy, and Spencer definitely doesn’t want to scare you off. Not when he’s been waiting the better part of thirty years to meet you.

I didn’t mean to insinuate that you should take off your shirt, but I also wouldn’t particularly mind if you did. Even worse – that would certainly earn him a stern talking to from HR.

Spencer decides to go for the honest approach.

“I-I’m not sure how to answer that.”

His honesty draws a laugh from you, and Spencer loves the sound so much that he decides then that he’ll never tell a lie again. You shake your head at him and reach for the napkins that he still has clutched in his hands.

“What’s your name?” you ask him as you continue his earlier efforts to sop up the coffee.

It’s probably the easiest question he’s ever been asked. That doesn’t stop him from making a fool out of himself, though.

“I’m Doctor Spencer R-Reid. Uh, I’m Spencer. Y-You don’t have to call me Doctor.”

Someone please put me out of my misery.

Your eyes meet his again and he can tell that you’re holding back a laugh.

“Okay, then, Spencer,” you say as you discard the napkins in a nearby trash bin. “I’m Y/N.” You punctuate your words with an outstretched hand, and before Spencer can think better of it, the usual spiel come tumbling out of his mouth.

“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

Your lower your hand and cock your head to the side.

“Are you always this forward, Doctor Reid?” you tease him, eyes flashing amusedly.

“I-I didn’t mean that we should kiss,” Spencer interjects, cringing at the way his voice has suddenly raised in pitch. “N-Not that I wouldn’t kiss you! I-I’m sure that kissing you would be really n-nice. I just meant that… you know. Germs.”

Are you there, God? It’s me, Spencer. A hole opening up in the ground and swallowing me up would be great.

To Spencer’s delight, you don’t seem offended in the slightest.

“I cannot believe that they’ve been hiding you up here, Spencer Reid. I should’ve come to visit Penny years ago.”

Wait – what?

“You work here?”

You nod.

“I work on the floor below this one – sex crimes,” you explain.

“For how long?”

“Coming up on three years now.”

Three years. You’d been right under Spencer’s nose for three years and he hadn’t the slightest clue. You’d parked your car in the same parking garage and taken the same elevator as he! How many times had your paths nearly crossed in the last three years? If he’d been just a little bit earlier or a little bit later getting into work, might the two of you met earlier? The possibility of it was maddening.

“Oh, wow. I-I’ve never seen you,” Spencer mutters lamely. But miraculously, you don’t think he’s lame, if your response is any indication.

“Nor I you, Doc. It’s a shame, too. You’re a funny guy.”

Spencer Reid has been called a lot of things in his lifetime – funny was never one of them.

“Y-Yeah. I’m a real riot at parties,” he deadpans. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you hum, and Spencer really hopes that you mean it. “Would you mind escorting me to Penelope’s office?”

Spencer nods, and the two of you fall in step together. Spencer’s wracking his brain again for something – anything- he could say to fill the silence. Thankfully, you don’t seem quite as inept at conversing as he, and you beat him to it.

“You look a little young yourself, Spencer. How long have you worked here?”

“Uh, I’ve actually worked here for almost eight years. I started when I was twenty-two.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock.

“Twenty-two, huh? That makes you – what? Thirty now? I wouldn’t put you a day past twenty-five,” you muse, and Spencer isn’t quite sure what to make of that. You must pick up on the conflicted look on his face, because you clarify. “That’s a good thing, Doc. I hope I look as good as you do when I’m thirty.”

Spencer has to remind himself how to breathe.

“I’m not thirty yet. Technically I have twenty-three more days. I could have a rapid decline in attractiveness by then.”

Spencer’s not usually one to try to be funny, but she seems to have a good sense of humor and he wants to impress you in any way he can.

“I guess I’ll have to swing back by in twenty-three days and find out.”

The two of you come to a stop in front of Penelope’s office and Spencer tries not to look as disappointed as he feels. He doesn’t want your meeting to come to an end – not when there’s so much about you that he wants to know. He wants to ask about your opinion on books and obscure foreign films and most importantly, Spencer wants to know what you think about him. Did meeting him affect you in the same way it did him? Did you secretly wish to make this moment last, too?

Spencer wants to say so much, but he can’t. He’s too awkward and too scared and too nervous to find the right words. So instead, he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m sorry about your blouse. Can I please give you the money to buy a new one? I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

“Absolutely not. It’s really not that big of a deal. Didn’t even really care for the shirt, if I’m being honest. Red really isn’t my color.”

Spencer wants to tell you how wrong you are – that he’s infinitely certain that you’d look irresistible in any color – but he doesn’t.

You reach for the door knob, and Spencer’s shoulders slump.

“It was nice meeting you, Spencer.”

And then you’re gone, and Spencer can’t help but think that he royally fucked up the most important introduction of his entire life.

When Spencer envisioned how his life would look at age thirty, he’d imagined it being a lot different than it is now. He’d hoped to use his intelligence for something great – finding a way to cure Alzheimer’s had been his main aspiration. Yet, here he was, thirty years old with nothing more than three PhDs to his name. He’d accomplished nothing of great significance, and the idea of having wasted his intelligence was eating away at him.

In short, Spencer Reid was in a bit of a funk.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen you since that fateful day in the bullpen. Spencer had contemplated paying you a visit, but the lingering embarrassment over his actions kept him from reaching out. He didn’t think he could handle how badly a rejection from you would hurt, so instead he sulked around the office and wallowed in his own self-deprecation.

Spencer’s birthday wasn’t something he tended to advertise. From a young age, he’d chosen to observe it silently. Usually, his mother would forget, and he never really had any friends to celebrate with, so the day was always rather unimportant to him. Perhaps he would order takeout and gorge himself on greasy food while he sat alone in his apartment. It had been good enough for him last year, and he supposed it would have to suffice this year as well.

He made it a point not to mention it to his coworkers, and the day passed by just as any other day. By the time five o clock rolled around, Spencer was waving a goodbye to his coworkers and heading out the door. As he waits for the elevator, he debates on whether to order Thai food or pizza for dinner.

Just as he settles on Thai, the elevator doors open.

“Oh, thank God, I was worried that you had left already!”

Before Spencer can get over the initial shock of seeing you, you’re stepping out of the elevator and into his space, an excited smile on your lips. And then you’re holding out your hand, and Spencer’s almost moved to tears when he sees you wielding a single chocolate cupcake.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like chocolate or vanilla better, so I went with my gut. I get the feeling you’re a chocolate kind of guy,” you say, eyes shining as you look up at him. “So, was I right?”

“You brought this for me?” Spencer asks, voice barely above a whisper. He can’t fathom it – that you had spared him any thought past your initial meeting. Spencer had surely expected you to forget about him entirely. Either that, or you’d written him off as someone to be avoided.

You nod.

“Of course, I did. It’s your birthday. Everyone deserves something sweet on their birthday.” You pause, the smile dropping from your face. “It is your birthday, right? I didn’t miss it, did I?”

Spencer is slow to shake his head.

“N-No, you didn’t miss it. I’m just surprised you remembered.”

You chuckled softly.

“You’re very unforgettable, Doctor Reid,” you say, and Spencer’s heart flutters in his chest. “And you didn’t answer my question.” You gesture to the cupcake expectantly.

“Chocolate is my favorite,” Spencer breathes out, raising a shaky hand and taking it from her. “I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re turning thirty. That’s a very big deal, Doc.,” you argue, and Spencer gives you a tentative smile.

“If you say so.”

“I do,” you smirk, before hitting the button to open the elevator doors. “So, do you have any big plans to celebrate?”

The doors open and you and Spencer file into the elevator together– an event three years in the making.

“Not really. I was just going to order some food and stay in,” Spencer says before taking a bite of the cupcake. It tastes wonderful – better than a store-bought cupcake could ever be. This cupcake was undoubtably made from scratch, and the thought of you taking the time out of your day to bake something for him makes him feel weak at the knees. Pair that with the way you’re looking up at him and Spencer worries he might collapse.

“What kind of food?”

“Thai,” Spencer says around the mouthful of cake.

“Mm,” you hum. “You know – I happen to love Thai food. And I also happen to not have any plans for the evening.”

Even Spencer, who struggles to decipher the simplest of social cues, can deduce that you are insinuating that you want to spend the evening with him. He’s thankful, then, that he had already swallowed the bite of cupcake, because there’s no doubt in his mind that he’d have choked on it. Spencer gapes at you, but your gaze is unwavering and your body language gives no indication that you were joking.

“D-Do… Do you want to, uh, come over?” Spencer trips over his words more times than any grown man should, but in his defense, he isn’t exactly well versed in matters like this.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes.” Spencer answers so quickly that it should be embarrassing, but it’s hard to feel anything but happy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Then in that case, I thought you’d never ask,” you sigh dramatically, and then the door opens up and you link your arm with his. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. I’ve been driving Penelope crazy asking about you, Doc.”

“You’ve been asking about me?” Spencer asks, incredulous.

“Absolutely. It’s not every day that you meet a guy who has the audacity to feel you up and ask you to undress within the first five minutes. I just had to know more,” you tease, and Spencer can’t help but laugh. Despite the cold air of the parking garage, Spencer feels warm – warmer than he’s ever felt and he knows that it has everything to do with the way you’ve pressed yourself against his side.

“In that case, I’m very glad I spilled my coffee on you,” Spencer says and you let out a snort.

“Yeah, I could’ve done without that part. And the part where you called me germy.”

“I did not mean it like that,” Spencer insists. You hum and detach yourself from him, and Spencer instantly misses the contact.

“Because it’s your birthday, I’ll let you off the hook,” you announce, making your way to the other side of his car, all while never taking your eyes off him. “And if you’re lucky, birthday boy, I might just be willing to test that theory of yours.”

Spencer cocks his head to the side.

“Theory?”

You nod, and the smile that creeps across your face is the best birthday present he’s ever gotten.

“You said you thought kissing me would be nice. I think we should find out.”

Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love. But as he steals glances at you on the way to his apartment, his chest swells with a hope that maybe – just maybe – his luck is about to change.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x y/n #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #fluff #fanfiction

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demonslayedher · 3 years ago

Note

How you doing Buri Senpai !!

Personal question…. How do you manage to get out of your art/writing block/ burnout ? You are an incredible artist and writer and i wish to be like you someday❤️

(///￣￣///) Thank you, Anon. Like most other people who do any sort of creative work, I am constantly seeking validation. I don’t think that ever goes away. That is why I’ll give you the truth, I get a lot of happy chemicals from making KnY fanwork, at the expense of any other creative work I could be doing.

There’s lots and lots of discussion out there on what leads to creative burnout and how perfectionism kills success by preventing someone from even starting a project, and anyone who has ever worked hard on something only to feel it met with a disappointing response can tell you about the heartbreak of feeling like none of your efforts are worth anything. It’s very easy to say “write for you, draw what you want, fandom should be fun” but we all know that sometimes it’s not. That’s the best advice I think is out there, though, so I’m just going to expand a bit.

…I tried, but my answers all kept getting rambly. ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)

The truth is that KnY is escapism for me and that is why I create so much of it!! For as long as I’m busy with this, and getting dopamine from making fanwork, my projects I’m willing to tell people about in real life are going to continue to get ignored! O ho ho! I fear failure!! I know they won’t be perfect and that is why I do not wish to create them in the first place! I do not wish to be judged as imperfect!!! Ohhh, ho ho ho ho! O-o-o-o-hhhhhh ho ho ho ho!

Ah. But that’s probably a big reason why I create so much KnY content: the stakes are lower than other things I might wish to accomplish. Since I don’t have any high expectations of my art anymore I can allow myself to relax with it and accept its wonkiness as part of it, if anything, that’s in the spirit of the original manga, right? Also, I’m practiced enough with my drawing that even though I don’t know proper drawing technique, I can intuitively go about bringing a lot of things from my head to paper, so that makes it something I do to relax.

While I have given myself permission to be lazy with art for the sake of enjoying it, I do still harbor the same childhood dream of getting published, even though my understanding of that now comes with vague knowledge of all the burn-outable activities that come with (self-promotion, blaaaaargh, please just let me live under a rock). Sometimes, when I realize just how high my KnY-related word count is, I get aggravated with myself for not having poured that power into my own original projects. But failure would feel so much higher with those, so I stick to what I know I can accomplish, as I lo-o-o-ve the feeling of accomplishing things.

But…

Well…

One of the best times I got that feeling was was when I sat down and actually wrote a few manga short stories, beginning to end, with no idea what I was doing. All it really took was a kick in the pants from someone holding me accountable. I had 55 books printed to basically give away to people. I had them all stacked up when they arrived and was stunned at how slim the spines were. All those hours, poured into that small a result, something that could be consumed and forgotten so easily?

But then again, I had something. Something complete, so that if the topic of OCs ever came up, I hand something to hand to someone, to say, “this.”

It was sometime after that when I crushed my first NaNoWriMo attempt by a long-shot (50,000 words? Pfffhaahahaha, when I’m prepared and have my schedule cleared for it, that’s nothing!), and even though that first novel objectively was terrible, it broke me in and made me realize that I could do it. I’ve written three more full drafts of other stories since then, though I was so frustrated with the overhaul second draft of one of them that I quit on it and then, uh, started watching KnY. Teh heh…

But I guess that really is the drive. To have something I can give to someone to say, “This. I have put my thoughts and feelings to form. It’s a form I can share now.” Sure, it’s really nice to imagine having a fandom following or striking it big with a hit or something, but it would never be enough validation, and that sounds like a sure way to get burnt out.

So even in fandom, even when I get other ideas of what might be fun (or just popular?) blog content, at some level I just want to say “I got this idea, I gave it form, please appreciate it.” And, as is the key to most forms of happiness, I’m really, really grateful for the people who bother to read my wordy work, who leave their thoughts, and who take my ideas and run with them and make new ideas from them. My fandom content isn’t made specifically for my own pleasure, I really, really do get joy out of other people finding joy in it, and satisfaction in knowing I put it into a form that can be enjoyed instead of just having it in my own head. It's like my relaxed attitude toward my drawing, though. In order to keep my fandom fun, I keep my expectations in check so that I can still relax and have fun with it. I don't get involved with things that require effort I don't feel like putting in, I don't hold myself responsible for giving anyone else fandom validation either, it's not a give and take economy of praise. When I want to praise you I will dump it on you and you will know it's from the heart. Keeping things relaxed requires boundaries and embracing one's own laziness, so that you can focus on what you really care about.

But the not-as-fun projects that come with high stakes, the ones that keep calling me… they’re out there, and I need to polish my rough areas to answer the call, someday.

I just fear what becoming my best self will entail.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Baby, It’s Cold...

Warnings: this fic includes dubious/nonconsent, fingering, lying, manipulation, and general Ransom naughtiness

This is explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You go to meet your online admirer but not all is as it seems.

Note: Our Chris-mas fic is here! I tried to keep the holiday details as vague as possible and hope you all enjoy what I came up with. As a reminder, y’all chose Ransom Drysdale + Sugar Daddy + Silverfox (= yes please)

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

Your nerves wouldn't stop. It was the tap of your fingers, the urge to chew your thumb, and the way you shifted in your seat just when you got settled. The flight was long enough to calm down and definitely not long enough to prepare yourself.

You scrolled through your phone, offline for the journey. You swiped through the photos saved in your gallery. Hugh had paid for the ticket. A gift for the holidays he said; his gift, he added, was you. It was cheesy but it made you smile. He always had a way of surprising you. One moment, he was stern and demanding, the next he was flirty and fun, and sometimes, he could be sappy. He was different than any man you’d met; well you hadn’t exactly met yet.

It had started on your Insta. You liked to post pictures of pretty things; flowers, birds, critters, and the odd monument. Sometimes, even, yourself. He messaged you about some photo of a vintage book. It was random and awkward. You weren’t quite sure how you managed to bring the quality to text but you did always find a way.

But it continued and you got to know him. He knew a lot about books; he said he worked in publishing. As a photography student, you weren’t as impressive. You assumed he was older; a few years, he said. Well, that wasn’t so bad. He also suggested you keep some prints; it could make for a good coffee table book. You liked hat he humoured you but you were like any other arts major; you were waiting for your green apron.

As they announced the landing over the speaker, you buckled in. You played with the locked buckle. You had lied to your mother. You told her you were staying on campus for the winter break. What would do if she knew if you were meeting a stranger? Huh, you were meeting a stranger and you had kept it all a secret. Your romcom had just become a horror in your mind.

Well, you had the app on the phone. The one that would send your location if you didn’t log in within the next eight hours. But it could be too late by then. Shit, this was stupid. So stupid. You could hide and tell him you missed your flight. Well, fuck, you’d texted him just before boarding.

As the plane descended you went through every worst case scenario; catfish, liar, murderer… Hugh was hot as fuck and you had to admit, a rich guy with eyes like his, was way out of your league. You bit your lip as you looked at the pic of him at the beach; was it the abs that made you so dumb or the smirk?

The large wheels rolled over the tarmac as the pilot steered past the other planes and into position. You waited as disembarkment began and the attendants reminded passengers to remain seated until told otherwise. You felt the wine in your stomach swish. Hugh had paid for first class; you had enjoyed the complimentary drinks a little too much. The first had been for courage, the second for foolishness.

Finally, it was time to get up. Time to face your naivety. Why did these things seem like a good idea until the last minute? Rather, why did you think they were? This was like that blind date in your freshman year that turned out to be a prank by your roommates. Sophomore year saw you relocated.

What if the same was going through Hugh’s head? What if he was disappointed? It was easy to seem cooler than you were behind a screen. It wasn’t exactly like you broadcasted the fact that you spent all your time in the library or the fact that your study group was the majority of your socialization. Well, maybe you’d both be let down and you could laugh about it together.

You grabbed your carry-on and followed the rest of the passengers down the ramp and into the tunnel. You felt like you were in a movie or a dream. It was surreal. Had you really flown all this way to meet this online pal?

As you reached the escalators, you turned your phone off of airplane mode. There was a message waiting for you. ‘At the gate.’ It was all too real as you sent back an emoji and neared the belt to grab your bag. You extended the arm and rolled it behind you as you headed for the last barrier. You were waved through customs and met another set of escalators. You bounced your leg as you descended.

You got to the bottom and walked around as you searched those waiting around the gate. Blonde hair, you couldn’t miss it. Blue eyes, tall, broad shoulders… he was the type to stand out in the crowd.

“Hey,” you felt a large hand on your back and another on the handle of your bag. “Right here.”

The deep voice was the same from your phone calls. You smiled and looked over as he took your bag entirely and wrapped his arm around you.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” You turned to him and his hand rested on your hip as he faced you.

The air went out of you and your lips parted. You blinked and sputtered. “H- Hi.”

“You okay? How was the flight?” He asked.

You were in shock. Your entire body jittered and your breath was trapped in your chest. It was Hugh but he was about twenty years older than his photos. Most of his hair was silver, with only a few strands of blonde, and though he hadn’t aged poorly, the difference was stark. Handsome as he still was, he had lied.

“It was… fine.” You forced out. “I…” You shook your head and pouted as your thoughts raced, “Hugh, you’re… older than I expected.”

“Call me Ransom. Everybody does.” He leaned it, “Why don’t we talk about this in the car?”

You looked around. You couldn’t really just turn around and go home, could you? You lowered your chin and sucked in your lip as you thought. What else had he lied about?

“Sure,” you said thinly. “I…”

“Babe, it’s me,” he coaxed, “I’m exactly who I said I was. And you, you’re even more gorgeous in person.”

You glanced at him and nodded. You hooked your shoulder bag over your arm and he grabbed your hand as he pulled you with him. The wheels of your suitcase rolled loudly behind him as the buzz of the crowd drowned out your panicked mind. You let him guide you, in disbelief. You didn’t know what else to do.

You were outside as the haze cleared. You approached a car, sleek and sporty, though you were never good with types. Hugh, or Ransom, opened the trunk and dropped your bag inside. He went to the driver’s side and opened the door as you stared across at him. You mirrored him and lowered yourself into the passenger’s seat. The doors closed almost in unison and you stared through the windshield at the unfamiliar parking lot.

He cleared his throat and turned the engine. You snapped your belt into place as he shifted into gear. You flinched and crossed your arms. You peeked at him in the rearview and his hand crawled onto your thigh. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he smirked. You were paralysed as he steered with one hand and his fingers tapped against your jeans.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he said, “Or… happy holidays. Whatever’s politically correct.”

He laughed and you only managed to choke on your spit. You felt like you should be mad but did you have any right to be? He hadn’t exactly catfished you. Not completely. And he had paid for your ticket and from what you could tell, he was just as rich as he claimed. Yet, that wasn’t exactly why you’d come. Sure, it was all just in good fun, you didn’t expect a whirlwind romance, but it was still jarring.

“Why don’t you just relax?” he purred, “I know it wasn’t too long a flight but flying always takes it outta me. And you’ll need your energy. I have lots of surprises in store for you.”

You nodded and leaned against the door. You hugged yourself and lifted your leg over the other and Ransom’s hand slipped away. He seemed unbothered as he sat back in his seat and turned his attention to the road.

The radio flicked on and filled the tense silence. You clung to the unknown lyrics to keep from drowning in fear.

🎁

Despite your doubts, you couldn’t help but be astounded by Ransom’s house. Almost four years in a dormitory and the Holiday Inn was like a palace to you, but his place was even more than that. A modern façade with a blanket of store across the sprawling yards which seemed to have been perfectly laid to match the straight lines of the structure.

You stayed in the car as Ransom climbed out and took your bag from the trunk. You jumped in your seat as he tapped on the window with his knuckle. You looked over at him and undid your belt. You got out, your bag dangling from your wrist, and he touched the small of your back again as he led you forward.

“We’ll have dinner and then you can open your gifts,” he said, “That’s when the fun will start.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed as he unlocked the door with a code and ushered you in.

You watched him hang his jacket and reluctantly unzipped your own. You put your bag down but kept a hold of your phone.

“You’re nervous,” he intoned.

“Why did you send me those pics and not something more recent? You lied.” You said.

His mouth slanted and he raised his brows. “They were me. Not much of a lie.”

“Enough of one, don’t you think?”

He chuckled. “I think you at least owe me a little leeway. Considering.”

“Considering what? You offered to pay. Don’t hold that over me.”

“I’m not but… you’re young, you’re impulsive. I mean, you came all the way here and now what? You’re going to tuck tail and run home? Spend the last of that bursary money so you can hide?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you huffed as you stepped out of your boots.

“I’m not.” He said firmly. “I’m giving you advice and it’s hard to see when you’re young but we both know you’re smarter than your age. We both know what this is and me being older isn’t going to affect that.” His eyes roved over you, “Is it?”

You lowered your lashes and thought. You wetted your lips and looked down at your phone. You unlocked it and opened the app. You keyed in your password and turned off the alert. You’d come this far and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t murder you. Besides, your mother would kill you once she found out you’d come all this way.

“It’s just gonna take me a bit to get used to it,” you tucked your phone away, “But promise me, that’s it. The only lie.”

“Promise,” he said gently, “Now, dinner should be here soon so why don’t you get changed.”

“Changed?” You snorted, “What--”

“Up the stairs, the room at the end of the hall, there’s a red box on the bed. It should fit. If it doesn’t, I’m sure it’ll still look great on you.”

You smiled as your cheeks burned. He was older but he still had charm and had aged into his looks and not out of them.

“Alright,” you said, “I… what’s for dinner?”

“Another surprise,” he replied as he neared and leaned in, “I’m more excited about dessert.” His breath tickled your cheek, his lips too, and you shivered. “Now go, we’ve both waited long enough for this.”

You drew away and turned to head up the stairs. He tapped your ass and you squeaked. You looked back over his shoulder and he winked. “Can’t help myself,” he raised his hands, “But I’ll try.”

You continued up the stairs and tried not to gape at what had to be expensive art. The furniture was no less extravagant and as you entered the room at the end of the hall, you closed the door and pulled out your phone. You typed in Ransom instead of Hugh Drysdale and pages of results popped up. Editor, Publisher, and Owner of Blood Like Wine Publishing. Jesus Christ, were you really that daft?

Well, he was famous enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to kill you. You tossed your phone on the bed beside the box and carefully untied the black ribbon around it. You shimmied the lid off and revealed the red velvet. You lifted it up, a short little piece trimmed with white fur. It was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever seen but scandalous nevertheless.

You stripped as your nerves only got worse. You slipped into the dress, it was tight around your chest and the short skirt had a slit along the thigh. You wanted to laugh at yourself. There was a pair of heels at the foot of the bed and you sat to slip on the stilettos. You stood and wobbled. You felt so dumb but a glance in the mirrored door of the closet gave you pause. Not bad.

You slowly made your way down the stairs. You held tight to the railing and as you came to the bottom, you looked around at the airy halls. You wandered into the next room and back to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as Ransom looked up from the counter. He carefully plated the food from the containers surrounded by paper bags. Expensive, boujie take out.

“The other way,” he smiled, “Past the stairs. I’ll be in shortly.”

“Oh, okay,” you spun and caught yourself on the wall.

You found your way to the room across the hall. There was an artificial fireplace in the wall burning and a low table with two cushions planted deliberately on the floor. There was a bucket with ice and champagne in it and two glasses waiting. You crossed to it and touched the petals of the stemmed roses in the tall crystal vase.

You turned as you heard footsteps. Ransom entered with two plates. He passed you and set them down on the low table. He spun back to you and took in every inch of you. “Wow, you look… great.”

“Thank you,” you shied away and he caught your hands. He pulled you close as the candlelight gleamed along his silver hair.

“Come here,” his hand grazed your arm and he caught your chin, “Amazing.”

He brushed his lips against yours and pressed them more firmly. You let him as you heart hammered and he pulled away as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Let’s eat,” he breathed. “Before it gets cold.”

You followed him to the table and sat on the cushion. It was difficult as your skirt rode up and you bent your legs beside you awkwardly as Ransom popped the cork. He poured the wine and you sipped at the foam. You could still feel the glow of the grigio you’d downed on the plane.

“So, did you bring your camera? Tomorrow we might go out and you can get some photos. It’s beautiful in the winter. Cold but makes warming up all the better.”

“Yeah…” You took a bite of the salad. “So, why didn’t you tell me who you were? If your age doesn’t matter, then--”

“You didn’t ask me for money. Not even when I mentioned it. Most women, I tell them who I am, they google me, and they do a poor job of tiptoeing around my checkbook.” He shrugged. “And I like you. I wanted to get to know you without everything else.”

“Get to know me?” You scoffed. “That’s what you call it?”

“My intentions were innocent. At first. I thought your pictures might make a good book and then I found one of you. Business isn’t everything.”

“Oh,” you fluttered your lashes, “It’s not?”

His hand snaked over to your thigh and he squeezed. He played with the fur along your skirt.

“I have enough money.” He said, “What I want isn’t so simple.”

🎁

You finished dinner and washed it down with the champagne as Ransom cleared the plates. As came back, you sat on your knees and watched him cross the room. There was a table stacked with presents in the corner. You only just noticed it as he looked it over and picked out one wrapped in gold paper.

He neared and held it out to you. You took it and ran your finger over the edge. “Your gift is in my bag,” you tried to stand and he waved you off.

“Later,” he said, “Open it.”

You slid your finger under a fold and tore. You slowly unwrapped the box; black and shiny. You crumpled the paper and dropped it on the table. You wiggled the lid off a revealed a pair of black furry cuffs. You giggled.

“Thanks,” you looked up at him.

“Stand up,” he said.

“W-Why?” You tilted your head.

“You gotta try them on,” he grinned, “Come on. Just a little bit of fun.”

“I don’t know, I never--”

“I know you didn’t come here just for steak so come on, get up.” He demanded, “And turn around.”

You bit down as you stared up at him. You wanted to laugh but the lines in his forehead warned you he was serious. He bent and took the cuffs from you and set the box aside. You stood, numb and shaky. You didn’t believe it. He wasn’t going to--

He spun you around and swept your arms behind you. You tried to pull away as he caught your left wrist in a cuff and quickly hooked the other. They closed tight around your wrists and he tugged on the link as if to test them.

You stared at the artificial flames licking at the glass. He cupped your ass and dragged his hands around to grip your hips.

“They look nice,” he purred, “Oh, baby.”

He bent and nuzzled your neck as he brought his arms around you and kneaded your tits. He pushed them up as he nibbled at your skin.

“These… are perfect,” he kissed you and teased your flesh with his teeth. “Fuck.”

He pulled down the top of your dress and bared your chest. You wriggled and he hugged your waist he kept you close.

“What are you doing, baby? Where are you going to go?” He tweaked your nipple, “Dressed like a little slut.”

“Hey,” you gasped and he retracted his hand to smack your ass.

He hushed you as his fingers crept down your thigh and he rolled up your skirt an inch at a time. “What are these?” He snapped your panties, “You don’t need those.” He pulled them below your ass and they fell to your ankles. “Let me show you what an old man does better than any kid.”

He reached around you and tickled your pelvis. He raised his head and inhaled the scent of your scalp as his hot breath glossed over your head.

“Don’t be shy now… or would you feel better with a camera?” He taunted. “Hmmm?”

“Hu--Ransom,” you uttered.

“Come on,” he forced his hand between your legs and flicked between your folds. “What did you think this was? How long did you think I’d wait?”

“No, but--” You gasped as he toyed with your clit, “Ransom.”

“Say it again,” he swirled his fingers.

You gulped and moaned as he rubbed harder. Your legs quaked around his hand as he slid his fingers further back. You felt your arousal slicken as he spread it over your cunt and poked around your entrance. He slid a finger inside of you as he wiggled his crotch against your hands.

“Is this what you came for? Or did you want all of me?” He pushed another finger in. “You want me inside you, baby? Stretching you?”

You groaned as he curled his fingers and pressed the hell of his hand to your clit. He rocked his hand and cried out. Your legs cramped as your feet curled in the high stilettos.

“It doesn’t really matter what you came for,” he pushed on your shoulder until you bent forward. He caught the middle of the cuffs and held you like that. “I’m gonna get what I want.”

You closed your eyes and whined as he pulled his fingers out of you. You quivered and he spanked you before he withdrew his hand entirely. You felt him fumbling behind you as you shook your head. As you had been since you met him, you were off-balance. You couldn’t decide if what he wanted was what you wanted too.

You felt a prod along your ass. He brushed his tip down your cheek and poked between your legs. He wetted himself on your folds and pushed along your entrance. Slowly, he slid into you, grunting as he sank past his tip. Deeper and deeper until you threw your head up and moaned. He filled you completely; painfully and delightfully.

“Yeah, you want me.” He hissed as he thrust and jerked your body. “You want to be mine, don’t you?”

You hummed as he moved against you, your shoulders straining as he tugged on the cuffs.

“Say it. Say you want to be mine.”

“Ah,” you moaned, “I want-- to-- I-- I’m yours.”

“You’re mine, baby,” he snarled, “All mine. Aren’t you?”

“Y-y-yes,” your eyes rolled back as he sped up.

He rammed into you so hard your legs buckled. He growled and followed you down. He bent you over the table as swept the bucket and vase out of the way. He got to his knees as he pinned you over the top and crushed your hips against the edge. Your cheek was hot against the cool table as he jolted you.

“Mine,” he grunted, “Baby, all mine…”

He rutted into you as his voice mingled with yours. You whimpered as your legs tingled and your core bloomed. You let out a feral whine as you came, convulsing beneath him as he gripped the table above your shoulder.

“You want me.” He rasped, “You want me to cum in you.”

“I-I-I…” You twisted your hands as you struggled to think; struggled to do more than murmur wildly.

“Fuck.” He swore and you felt him burst.

He slowed as he slapped the table and when he stilled, he held himself over you and his breath sent a shudder through you. He sat back on his knees and slid out of you. His cum spilled down your thigh and you slumped down against him. He pinched the velvet bunched around our waist.

“You got more gifts to open, baby,” he slapped your ass as he stood, “You think you can keep up with an old man like me?”

#dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #knives out #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #one shot #request #merry chris-mas #seasonal #holiday fic

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excaive · 3 years ago

Photo

t4t thoughts...

Killjoye and Roger were at a skate park in the evening. There were only a couple of others out skating. The weather was just right - gentle breeze with a little humidity. The sun was setting and casting a warm orange glow. Killjoye and Roger were laughing, Killjoye showing off some tricks on their skateboard. However, one ended with them face first into the asphalt. Roger ran over to them. "Killjoye! Are you okay??" Roger sounded worried and crouched down as Killjoye sat up, rubbing their face gently with one hand. "Ow...." They mumbled as blood dripped from their nose. "Could've been worse." Killjoye smilled but hissed as it hurt. Roger sat down in front of them and grabbed their face with both hands, looking at the scrapes. He clicked his tongue and got out some tissue. "I'm glad you didn't land directly on your nose, that wouldn't be fun." He put the tissue to their nose and they grabbed the tissue, brushing over Roger's cold fingers. "Hold on, I'll grab my back pack." Roger stood up before Killjoye could say anything. They felt flushed in the face. They looked out into the park and saw just another duo having some fun skating.

Roger came back in front of Killjoye and pulled out some disinfectant and bandaids. "Wow, you came all prepared." Killjoye laughed. "Well yeah- wait you mean you don't have stuff like this with you?" Roger looked at Killjoye who just swayed side to side in response. Roger gave them a look before gently rubbing the disinfectant against their cheek, cleaning up the bruises and scratches.. "Why'd you look back at me?" Roger asked, "You could've avoided the fall if you were paying attention." "I wanted to make sure you were looking." They responded with a grin. They removed the tissue from their nose, not feeling it running anymore. Roger gave them another tissue to clean up with. "I'm always looking, Killjoye you don't have to check. I'm here to see all your cool tricks!" He smiled as he leaned back to get a better view of Killjoye. "How about your hands?" "All bruise filled." Killjoye raised their hands, showing off some bleeding scrapes. Roger took a hold of them to rest between them as he began cleaning them up.

Killjoye just watched as their face and hands ached, feeling some sort of warmth. They spaced out for a little bit, enjoying the moment. "Alright..." Roger exhaled as he took out bandaids. "These are different colors, choose your pick!" Killjoye gasped and smiled as they looked at the different bandaids, choosing yellow and green and pink.

Roger put some big ones on their hands before getting to their face. He leaned a bit closer as he covered the scrapes on Killjoye's face.

.... "... Sorry, what?" Roger asked, eyes widening. Killjoye said something but he didn't quite catch it. They looked at him and grabbed his wrists, lowering their hands between them. "Do you want to kiss me?" Killjoye repeated. "You know I like you, so I wanted to ask again." "Uhm.." Roger blushed and looked around. No one was around, except the gentle breeze. He laughed lightly. "I... Wasn't expecting that." Killjoye loosened their grip on Roger's wrists. "No, then?" They were looking down, feeling a little disappointed. Roger took a little while to say anything that it made Killjoye look up. Their eyes met and Roger swallowed. He gently held onto Killjoye's hands and leaned a little closer. And Roger kissed Killjoye on the lips. Killjoye got all flustered, not actually expecting a kiss. Roger pulled back and smiled at Killjoye before looking around. "Wow, it's getting dark already, we should head home, don't you think?" He laughed and Killjoye sat there puzzled. "Y. You actually kissed me." Killjoye said with a little wonder. Roger swallowed and looked at Killjoye. "I.. Can't tell you how I feel because I don't know what it is yet. Please be patient ok? You mean a lot to me." He squeezed Killjoye's hand. Roger cleared his throat and stood up, pulling up Killjoye with him carefully. Killjoye was woozy but laughed regardless. "Of course! You mean a lot to me too." Killjoye went for a hug and they hugged for a bit before going home.

#ocs #killjoye #roger #cai arts #cai writes #writing? in this house? apparently so

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linksthoughtbrambles · 3 years ago

Text

[Link runs around the castle and digs a deep brain-hole. Not literally. It's a metaphor.]

Part 33 of Link's Thought Brambles

“Link, it’s your doublet, you should wear it.”

“Nope. You’re smaller, you have less layers, and you’re the Princess. You get the coat. Next time, we can pack extra stuff for you in the pouch.”

“It’s plain to see you are also cold.”

“I’ll live. We’re already through the gate. We can even duck through the hall past the guards’ chamber if you want to.” Is that an itsy bitsy pout she has on? It’s something I haven’t seen yet for sure. It’s very retriever-like.

“You could… take the doublet and simply put your arm about my shoulders. We’d both be warmer. We could skip the cut through the lower halls.”

Those wide eyes. The shape of her lips. The way she’s breathing. She wants you to, doesn’t she? All day, she’s been reaching out. It’s not just in your head.

I really don’t think it’s in my head.

If we were in town, I’d almost take her up on it. Almost. I don’t think I’d need the doublet if she was against me, so I'd skip that part. I’d just put my arm around her shoulders. And if she welcomed it… two options. Wait until a quiet spot, tug her gently toward an alley, and if she went willingly, lean in to kiss those lips. How soft… how soft would they be against mine? Would she be tentative? Light touches, brushing the outside? Or would she open for me? Let me dip inside her for the first time?

Woah. Pause. Listen to yourself, Link. You just made a hefty assumption there.

The better option? Ask. Simply ask. With my arm around her. ‘Do you want me to kiss you, Princess?”

I think she does. I really, really think so. I can be bad at reading people, but I don’t think I’m wrong this time. The longer it takes me to answer, the more I see her lips moving. Tiny motions. Her eyes haven’t left mine for an instant, but they’ve darkened a lot. I’ve never heard anyone say anything about that, but my instincts like it. They say she’s thinking about it, too.

Of course… we’re not in town. We’re on the path toward the first gatehouse. And even though the sun has set I can see the guards on the ramparts, and they can see us. And if I put my arm around her now, who knows what happens?

There’s the entrance to the lower halls. Lots of guards outside it today. Jeralt and Ahadis preparing for the start of the onslaught tomorrow. I know some of them. Well, a little. Some from the melee. Some not.

You can’t risk it, Link. Just get her inside where it’s warm.

“I… I wish I… ehh. The- the entrance is here. We should go in.”

It’s not in my head. It’s not. If that’s not disappointment on her face, I’m a pumpkin-turnip hybrid.

“Yes. I suppose we should.”

Oh no. No, no, no, Princess. That was too close to humiliated voice.

…And there they are again. The LOOKS. I should be used to it by now. And maybe, just maybe, I am. Because that’s anger in you this time, isn’t it Link? Not anxiety, dread, or embarrassment. Anger. Because even after the melee and the Princess’ amazing performance the other day, they’re still eyeing you like you’re some kind of Princess predator.

Don’t even look at them. It’s not worth it.

“Crell, did you see-“ “Leave it alone, Rett.”

Ah. Whispering behind us, too.

“I saw it too, Rett.””

Too quiet for me to make out. Approaching the Guards’ Chamber. Loud there.

“Hhh. Well, Sir Link.”

She’s trying to sound chipper.

“We did good work today. We’ve earned a bit of a rest.”

“You should rest, Princess. I thought of some things I’d like to check on tonight rather than wait until tomorrow.” And there’s a glare from some random guard I don’t know.

“Oh? Oh. There are many things we could check on-“

…And another. I know that guy’s face from somewhere.

“-but I’d rather thought they’d keep ‘til morning.”

This group just seems surprised for some reason.

“…Maybe. But I expect us to get slammed with people wanting to move in early, claim good spots and all that. I just – I just want to make sure. I really can go a good long while without sleep for whatever reason.”

“Please don’t do that to yourself—don’t stay up all night. Promise me you’ll get some rest.”

“Oh, I intend to, Princess. No need to be up all night, but I have more hours in me yet.”

And now Nedley and Burin are gawking at me. What’s going on?

“I do as well, you know. I have a strong tendency to stay up late.”

“I’ve noticed light from your windows late. Including the study.”

“Yes. It’s time… time I have to myself. No one looking over my shoulder.”

“I understand.” Nighttime under our apple tree in Hateno. Nicest time in a day. Though once in a while, Chee'd try to sneak up the tree to knock an apple onto my head. Hehe. She thought I didn't hear her.

“Sir Link?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“H- here. I’m not cold now we’re inside. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Princess.”

Why’s she flicking her eyes between the doublet and my chest?

…She wants me to wear it.

Okay… I’ll put it on, I guess.

And I guess we’re walking faster now.

And faster.

Um.

Okay… keep this quiet, Link. Just in case anyone’s around a corner.

“Princess? Is something wrong?”

“W- we ought reach Oron quickly if possible.”

“Why?”

“Oh, Link. Hphhhh. You do appear to have terrible luck.”

“…I do?”

“Consider the location of your goose bite.”

“My…?” Oooooh. Oh no… not again, we didn’t even do anything! Despite both of us very likely thinking about it…

“Your expression suggests you’ve realized what it looks like.”

This is so stupid. No. I’m not letting this happen. “The goose biting incident was seen by LOADS of people, Princess. This isn’t some mystery. It happened in town in broad daylight. You know what? I’m taking the doublet off.”

“Link!”

“Nope—off it comes. I’m not hiding it. Nothing to hide. Anyone asks, I’ll just tell them what happened. It’s a pretty funny story.”

“It’s a ridiculous story.”

“It’s a TRUE story! If anyone asks around, they’ll find out.”

“A-are you sure, Link?”

“Completely. If they don’t like it, they can stuff it.”

-----

Carpentry – check. Blacksmith – check. Not one, not two, but THREE large cauldrons nearly cool and ready for seasoning tomorrow. Plynne – check. Caramel apple plan well under way. Pink peppercorns a hit in the kitchen. Mom’ll be proud! Wonder if she’s seen my letter, yet…

Too early to start prepping most of the food. Too spoily. Confections started.

Confection Perfection would be a pretty good shop name. I’ll tell Mom. Not that I think she’ll ever actually open one, but I’ll still tell her.

Fruitcake plan partially formed. Apparently Tarah’s more of a baker than a cook. She can redeem herself from splitting that soup by baking a nice fruitcake for the competition. And if she loses? No shame. Plynne’s head cook, not her.

Next. Jeralt. It’s late, but he’ll be up somewhere, most likely. Could be on guard, but probably not.

Could ask the royal guards. At this hour, they’re probably outside the king’s chambers.

Oh. Do you really want to do that?

Will they still be holding things against me?

I bet Kertiss will. Jeralt obviously isn’t. Merendith, Cahz, and Eberoy are all maybes. Not sure about Turro… he didn’t join the melee, though. Neither did Shezdan, Paiter, or Virn… and he outright apologized.

I can’t avoid them forever. And I legitimately should talk to Jeralt. I’d rather do that today than tomorrow when we’re filling the bailey with all sorts of stuff and people. I’ll already have to keep a close eye on the Princess then, and I want to know what Jeralt thinks about that hugging situation.

I should’ve thought to talk to the Princess herself about that before she said goodnight. Too late, now.

Yeah, hurry toward the king’s chambers, Link. A good chance for your legs to sprint. There’s a bonus, too. If I get any funny looks, it’ll be for the sprinting and not for my absurd bruise.

Feels good just to run. It’s pretty busy tonight. Makes sense… lots of extra work to be done... and ooOOOh! Collision narrowly avoided. Careful on those corners, Link. Don’t knock some unsuspecting maid into a wall.

I wonder where Mipha is. Maybe she went straight to bed. She was exhausted yesterday. Link, you’re a little thick. You could’ve knocked on her door after dropping the Princess off. It’s way, way too late, now. If she’s in there, she’s asleep.

Wonder if she found anyone in town to give her gift to today. It’s hard for her. She knows if she uses it on someone who doesn’t REALLY need it, then someone else gets a life-threating injury, she can’t save them. But if she doesn’t use it because she’s afraid that’ll happen, but then it DOESN’T happen, she’s wasted the gift. Using it or not is never an easy choice to make. Well, not unless she’s had a day full of entirely healthy people and then someone gets stabbed right in front of her. Not sure that’s ever happened.

Dorephan is so good about it. He doesn’t try to tell her how or when to use it. He listens to her talk about it. I kind of miss climbing the back of the throne room to listen to them. Laying in the curves like hammocks made of luminous stone. Much harder than hammocks—still nice to feel cradled like that. The surface was so smooth.

Next time I see father, I need to try and talk to him, too. See if he’ll listen. I’m not sure I’ve ever really tried.

Wish there was someone I could talk to about the Princess.

Maybe I could try Mipha. But she understands Hylian social things even less than I do, so it probably wouldn’t help.

Mom is absolutely the right person to talk to. When two people in the village are on the verge of getting together, she KNOWS. She just KNOWS. She’s had every couple pegged since I can remember. It doesn’t matter who they are or how old or if they’re straight or gay or whatever. She sees it. I know it hasn’t been long enough to hear back, but I really want her answer to the question I sent. How did she know she wanted to marry father?

I’d also like to ask her why he’s off in Hebra instead of with her. I’m betting his answer is something like, ‘because preparing for the Calamity is more important’—but I wonder what she’d say.

There ought to be guards stationed on that walkway below the Princess’ chamber and at the base of the study tower. Not on the bridge. That would be a massive invasion of privacy. They’d have to either climb up like I do or go to and from the station using her spiral staircase, and that’s just too much.

It’s most worrisome if she’s asleep. You can’t defend yourself when you’re asleep. Doesn’t matter how strong or skilled you are if you never wake up.

And… her guard isn’t large enough to accomplish this. We could station other people around, sure, but clearly being a member of someone’s personal guard has an impact. Not a single one of hers had a hand in the melee.

I’m still not even clear on what would’ve happened if I’d lost. There’s no way the king would’ve simply allowed anyone to hurt her. And there’s no law against fooling around for him to follow. Would she have ended up shamed into seclusion in her tower? Or in the Cathedral?

A nasty feeling in my gut says some of them WOULD have tried to hurt her. Even if they had to go through the king to do it.

That feeling says it’s why her guard stayed on the rampart with her. Surrounding her. Would’ve been nice if they’d helped me, but I guess they really couldn’t… not if I was the one representing the Princess and her honor.

...This isn’t the way Hyrule is supposed to be. Yeah, people are scared. But it seems odd that people targeted the ones who’re supposed to help them. Why the hell isn’t anybody beating up Blagmeer, Deneven or Awn? They’re all obvious and shameless womanizers.

As soon as we cross the moat into town things seem to relax. We were fine there. People were fine. The tension flooded back as soon as we were on the castle’s main path.

I was worried about letting Mipha into my room. Those three parade different people through theirs all the time.

Is it the castle itself? Is something wrong with this place?

…I hope not.

Is it the Princess’ status? She has to be perfect because she’s royal? That… that could be it…

And do I have to be perfect because I’m the Legendary Hero?

I sure thought so. Maybe everyone else does, too. Problem is “perfect” is different depending on who’s judging.

One corner left. Breathe, Link. Relax…

Turn.

Nod. Turro and Eberoy.

Good evening.

True, most likely morning at this point.

I’d hoped to speak to Sir Jeralt.

Ah. That makes sense. Thank you. Good-

Um. Thanks, Turro. It- it’s fine.

Yeah?

Haha, that, Sir Eberoy, is a goose bite.

Not kidding.

The story’s probably all over town by now. Unless HiRAH are too embarrassed to tell anyone. The Princess gave them a tongue-lashing for setting a bunch of clipped birds loose in town.

Duck-Duck-Goose.

From what I heard it’s been going on at least a year.

Happen to know anyone who could build an aviary?

No, I’m not joking, not really.

Heh. Thanks. I’d better-

Wait, Link. You can’t leave here without saying something to Eberoy. Something other than ‘yeah that’s a goose bite, not a hickey.’

Sir Eberoy?

Just… want you to know I’m not holding a grudge.

Yeah… yeah, I see it.

Well… I don’t actually know what that light was. Never seen it before.

I- I don’t know if that’s what it was or not.

Um. Okay. Thanks.

Yeah, Turro?

Things?

He- he just-

How do I explain this? I know my father didn’t mean to say things that would just turn them against me from the start. I know he meant to be helpful. That he wanted them to keep an eye on me.

He worries about me, Turro. That’s all.

I’m sure he didn’t mean to. I, ah- I should go. Thanks. Good night- er- morning.

He told them, didn’t he? You thought he thought so, Link. You did.

But you didn’t think he’d tell other people.

How feminine everyone in Hateno thought I was? How I never seemed interested in girls? And I liked spending time around Mom and Chee best? And picked flowers and baked and cooked and liked to make colors match?

Your dad thinks you’re gay, Link. Because apparently straight men aren’t supposed to like things that don’t involve smashing stuff.

Which is ridiculous.

Less ridiculous is that I really never WAS interested in girls. Not until the Princess. I wasn’t interested in anyone real. I had nothing but my dreams.

These days, I dream of nothing but her. Even my nightmares, I think. Hard to remember.

I guess I can’t really blame him. If he’d asked me, I’d have said I didn’t know.

It’s why he’s so ashamed of me, isn’t it? All the other things pretty much lead back to that. Except for me running my mouth. Been dancing around that in my own head for a long time.

He’s ashamed of me.

Proud of my physical ability.

Ashamed of me as a person.

It’s the opposite of the king and the Princess. At least, until a few days ago. Put us all together and we have everything and nothing.

Depressing. You’re depressing, Link.

So… why did Virn and Kertiss get so pissed off? And apparently Eberoy, Merendith, and Cahz? Did they think I’d somehow pulled the wool over father’s eyes? Like I’d tricked him into thinking I was something I’m not? That seems… pretty backwards. And not worth getting so angry over.

Is it that they were just watching for the wrong problem? That the thing with the Princess totally blindsided them?

Or is it simpler than that? Is it that father's description of me disgusted them, and any excuse after that would’ve been enough? Even if the offense contradicted what disgusted them?

You know what, Link? It might be wise to talk to some other people in this castle to find out how they get treated. You've never noticed anything... but you've kind of been lost in your own head.

Farniha. Why the hell isn't she one of the royal guard?

Wenn. Why the hell isn't HE one of the royal guard?

Why the hell is KERTISS? He's a total dick. Strong, sure. And big.

And who picked its members? Your father did, Link. Up until four months ago. He passed over Wenn and Farniha for Kertiss.

Would he have passed me over, too? Because I didn't meet his idea of what a knight should be like?

Goddess, Link. You have to talk to your father. YOU have to talk. And he has to listen. Don’t know how to make that happen, but it does have to.

And you absolutely have to stop thinking about this. What’s with you? You were happy in town today. Really happy. Had a great time, even when the stupid goose landed on you. Your father’s not here. Turro and Eberoy both apologized. That wasn’t a confrontation at all. It’s just you, Link, digging yourself deeper into a brain-hole again.

Why not think of silly word things while you jog to the dining hall? Hard for that to lead to crushing crises of the soul.

Soul bowl mole role foal stole coal roll whole hole troll goal stroll droll pole sole.

Hehehe. Someone steps on a fish. ‘You’ve crushed my sole!’

Who will laugh? ME, that’s who.

Wow, the sole of a shoe is involved in that one too, Link!

‘Your sole crushed my sole!’

Is that better or worse?

Oh. Oh Goddess.

They’re solemates!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!

Who am I going to tell this to?!?!?!

-----

I hear them talking. The conversation sounds a little muted. It is late… I’d better make this my last stop.

Sir Jeralt. Sir Ahadis.

I was looking for you, Sir, but it can wait if-

Alright. Thank you.

Okay, Link. Relax. You’ve never sat at a table in the dining hall before, but it’s still just a table. This late at night, it’s just a long hunk of wood with some bread, cheese and fruit for the high-ranking night owls. Don’t sit a seat away from them. That’ll make you look like some scared little kid. Sit next to Jeralt.

Yes, Mipha’s planning to stay with us. I did have some concerns.

Yes.

I wanted to post more guards around the Princess’ chambers. Two more at the study tower’s base, minimum. One or two on the walkway, too.

It’s too easy to climb up. No one to spot an intruder at certain angles.

Before, I’d have said the castle was safe.

I’d rather not take the chance.

Actually, I’d rather thought of expanding her guard.

Farniha.

It’s overdue in my opinion.

If you put her on the royal guard instead, that’s exactly where she belongs and I won’t complain.

Brahm.

Yes.

I want people who have a conscience… and he’s smart.

I need to ask about some of the others I had in mind.

Wenn. I don’t know him beyond a few short words exchanged here and there. I only know he’s fast, skilled, and can take a lot of punishment before he goes down.

Well, maybe not. I don’t know why most of those people joined. Do you, Sir Ahadis?

It wasn’t meant to be underhanded. I thought the question was pretty direct.

That was a pissy answer if I’ve ever heard one. Guess he doesn’t want to tell me the real reason why. I’m going to guess it had something to do with me disarming him in about 30 seconds in the training yard my second week.

Alright. Any idea about Wenn?

Farniha told me about that. She thought the same thing.

Frankly, it’s the best reason anyone could’ve done what they did.

I was thinking of a few more people in particular.

Bernes. He’s stationed at East Post. So obviously, not tomorrow. And I don’t know if he wants to come back here. But if he does, I’d take him in an instant.

Skeyn. He’s calm, collected, and solid.

And never says a word against anyone, but I’m not going to bother saying that at this table…

Traleene. She’s one of the most athletic people we have. I want someone like that around if we do end up with a climber.

Those are all the ideas I had.

Sure.

I didn’t know that. Who is it?

I don’t want to jump and say yes when I’m not at all familiar with the person, but I could try him out. Daile you said?

Sure. That makes sense on a lot of levels.

There, ah… was another thing.

Wow this one is difficult to get out. How do I say this without taking an hour to explain? Wish Ahadis wasn't here. Jeralt will understand this question, I think. Ahadis'll just think I’m green.

We paid a visit to the orphanage near the quarry. We gave them a donation so the kids could enjoy the festival. One of the caretakers thanked us. She hugged me. Then she asked if she could do the same to the Princess. The Princess agreed, and she did… and I realized I was unprepared for it.

Well, then. I guess Ahadis isn’t in the mood to listen to us talk about hugging. Good. Easier that way.

Goodnight.

Fine, Sir.

That’s good to hear.

M- my father…?

The- ah- the king said he and the queen were at odds a lot.

That sounds… very familiar.

Wow, Link. You can totally see your father doing that. ‘Hands off the Princess.’ ‘No touching.’ ‘Ten feet back, please.’ And her trying to get away from him? That rings a few bells, too.

So… what happened?

In public?!

So they argued a lot.

Was he the same way with the king? After the queen passed?

Yeah, I’d… I’d noticed how no one seemed friendly with the Princess. At all.

Well…yeah. We… pretty much bonded over the fact that people were judging the crap out of us both.

So… everything you’ve said is what my father did. What about you, Sir? I know it’s only been four months, but you’re… nothing like him. He wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation with me. He’d tell me what to do and expect me to do it.

Ask?

I’m… a little afraid she’ll just tell me to let people hug her.

Because if one of them knifes her while they’re doing it I’ll never forgive myself.

Yeah. You’re probably right.

You were right earlier, Link. You should’ve just talked to the Princess before she went to bed. You could’ve come up with a plan before the rush hits in the morning. And it IS going to hit early. The stalls are already being brought out, and we’ll have to place them, and the tables, and the decorations, and get the businesses set up, and start setting up the games, and-

Oh. Yeah, I do that.

You’re right. Goodnight, Sir Jeralt-

O-oh. Okay. Goodnight, Jeralt.

Thanks.

-----

[Note: This one turned out pretty serious.]

[Note: I can't wait until I can introduce Link's dad. But it's going to be a while. The guy is... complicated. Link's only just barely starting to scratch the surface of what's going on with him. Depending on how I break this story up, it could be in the sequal to this fic, not this fic itself. But I know exactly when and how it happens. It's just a question of whether I want to break it up into two fics or have it be one massively long one. Currently, this is already approaching 100,000 words!!!!]

Read Next: Tiny Flames and Distant Stars (Warning for very strong suggestion of NSFW things. VERY strong.)

Read this fanfic from the beginning. (It makes more sense that way).

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#linksthoughtbrambles #botw #zelda #fanfic #zelink #breath of the wild #daddy issues

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