The beauty of love, Drew Starkey

“Hey,” Y/n whispered, seeing Drew sitting cuddled up in their (her) blankets on the couch. His hair fell onto his forehead, his eyes trained on the book in his hands. “Hey sweetheart,” he smiled softly, marking the page before putting the book away. “Why’re you here?” She asked, putting her bag down as he raised an eyebrow. “Why am I in my living room?” He asked, breathing out a laugh as she shook her head. “Y’know what I mean. “You're always in our room.” She sat down next to him, as he moved the blanket making enough space for her. “And you're playing my playlist.” She noted hearing ‘Sign of the Times’ playing softly in the background. “I thought we could watch the sunset.” He replied as she cuddled up next to him, laying her cheek against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her, his hand laying loosely over her stomach. “Really?” She asked in a small voice, her eyes glossing over with tears, as he stroked her hair lovingly. “Yeah, I thought you’d like it.” He admitted, a twinge of red coating his cheek as she stared up at him, adoration clear on her face. She looked outside the big windows, looking into the beautiful sky. Almost as if it was painted by an artist, perfect streaks of orange and pink were painted through the clouds, as a bright light shone as the sun slowly began to disappear. “Y’know, if the world was to end right now. This would be the perfect way to go.” He whispered, his fingers tracing soft patterns into her skin. “Everything right now is absolutely perfect, just peaceful and beautiful.” He added, staring into the sky as she cuddled into him further. He heard her let out a shaky breath before she moved to look up at him. She softly cupped his cheek, the stubble rough against her soft palm. She pressed her lips onto his, trying to convey all the love and passion she had for him all in one kiss. The way he kissed back, she could tell he understood, his hand had a soft but firm grip on her waist as her hand moved to the back of his head. Gently caressing the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her. After what felt like hours, they pulled away from each other. Rosy lips, and heart racing faster than ever. “I love you,” she whispered, moving back to their original position, her head laying on his chest, his arm swung across her stomach. “I love you,” he pressed a kiss on her head. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. If I didn't know any better I’d think I’m going crazy.” She breathed out a laugh, feeling his chest vibrate as he let out a laugh. “You have no idea, sweetheart.” 

A/n: I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, hope you guys like it<3

like water

notes: howdy howdy. i wanted to write this as a late remembrance for sam’s (unofficial) birthday, and i got the idea bcuz i was sick. now that i’m feeling better, here u go. happy birthday samster, and a happy new year’s to all.

{also, just wanted to mention that this fic is connected to ‘phantom’. u can find the link to it on my masterlist at the top of my blog if u’re interested in it, but it is, by all means, not required reading. in fact, what i’ve written here takes place months before ‘phantom’, but both can be read separately or in any particular order.}

apologies for the lengthy introduction, hope u enjoy.

pairings: present romantic relationship w sam & darlin’, mentions of a serious past romantic relationship with quinn and darlin’

pov: darlin’ — first person limited

word count: 3,848 words

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46468699

!! TWs {these begin under the cut} !! mentions of hallucination due to illness, guilt, victim-blaming done unto one’s self, opening up about past traumatic experiences. if any of these topics are triggering to u, please proceed with caution or do not interact with this work.

Faded sunlight fell through the window and splashed delicately onto the wooden planks of the floor. Brushstrokes of pink, orange, and blue shaded the clouds as the sun finally began to set and dip beneath the horizon.

Our clothes were haphazardly strewn throughout our bedroom, shirts and pants lying messily on the floor and dresser. Smooth, silk sheets adorned our bed, soft like clouds, and light like feathers.

His arms were wrapped snug around my waist, his fingertips drawing unknown shapes on my stomach. Bare skin across bare skin, his face buried in the crook of my neck. My hands rested on top of his, my own fingertips tracing the bones and tendons of the backs of his palms.

His lips danced across my shoulders, and a contented sigh from me had all of the tension leaving my muscles. My body seemed to mold into his arms, with my back pressing neatly against his chest, his arms coiled around my waist. It seemed like I was made for him—like we were made for each other.

“Thank you,” he whispered softly into my ear before pressing a gentle kiss behind it.

I laughed quietly. “For what?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted with a small chuckle, “For this? For you being here with me? For everything?”

He paused before adding with a stroke of finality, “For everything.”

I slid a hand behind his neck to pull him closer to me. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“You always say that,” he said, and I could feel him smile into my skin.

I countered, “I say it because it’s true.”

“Just say ‘you’re welcome’,” he insisted with a playful murmur.

I felt a shiver run down my spine at his cool breath on my neck. I savored the feeling, savored him, savored this.

“You’re welcome.”

—

The memory faded slowly, but the trails of it never fully went away. It was an everlasting echo, the sound drifting just enough to seem gone when it swung right back, the reverb causing a throb in my skull.

I was in my bathroom, standing silently in front of the mirror. I was swaying ever-so-slightly, labored, heavy breaths falling from my lips as I tried to stay upright. My vision was drowning in the cream color of the painted walls and the white ivory of the sink, the surface of my mirrored reflection flickering with the fluorescent light of the bulbs.

But then, my vision began to steady, my unstable reflection rippling until the image in front of me finally became clear.

The person looking at me was familiar, but a stranger all the same.

Their skin was unmarred, clear and shining under the artificial iridescence of the bathroom light. The large, ragged scars that should’ve been cast upon their body had dissolved, now left with a beautiful, soft glimmer. Eyes that had been downcast with fatigue and illness were now bright, a compassionate and bold luminance pulling the dark circles that had once been there. A shy but excited smile pulled at the corner of their lips, ready to go out into a world that seemed to only wish them Hell.

The person looking at me was who I had been before everything had happened.

The person looking at me was who I had been before him.

They only disappeared when the loud, obnoxious ring of my phone bellowed into my eardrums. The image of them left almost as fast as they had come, the tide of my mind pulling the reflection back into the depths of memory. My pulse pounded in my ears at the scare, a low growl ripping from my throat.

I turned off the bathroom light before heading back into my bedroom. From what I could see out of the cheap linen of my curtains, the sun had set, the last of its light hanging feebly onto the edge of the horizon. I sat down on my bed with a heavy thump, dizziness making my head spin as I fumbled for my phone.

I grabbed it from on top of my nightstand, the weight of the thing unusually heavy in my hand. I hissed when the bright screen lit up, my eyes narrowed as I read the caller’s contact.

It read: “Incoming call from: Sam.”

I bit my lip, debating if I should let the dial tone run out.

I had been avoiding his calls all week. Making up excuse after excuse as to why I was so busy—impromptu pack meeting, staying late at work, too tired, you name it. The last one was the only excuse that could be pushed to become a half truth—I was, indeed, exhausted.

David had sent me home from the office on Monday, insisting that I get some sleep. Unfortunately for me, the exhaustion had morphed into an even uglier perpetrator—a cold.

Well, it was Friday now, and I had been bed-ridden all week, barely able to call into work to let them know I couldn’t come in. Today had been the worst—the bright, Californian sunlight jamming its way into my eyes and splitting my skull open. The thin fabric of my curtains had done little to nothing in terms of blocking it out, so I had resorted to lying face-down in my mattress for the majority of the day.

I spoke out loud, a quiet, friendly ‘hello’ as I tested whether or not I could fake not being sick.

The trial did not go well.

My voice came out in a pitiful, painful rasp, the pain in my throat warping the two syllables so much it barely sounded like the original greeting. It sounded and felt like someone had lit a fire in my throat and tossed in a gallon of ash.

I sighed, quickly realizing I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. But, the unstoppable force and immovable object pinning me in place had me answering the phone anyway, ready to deal with the expected onslaught of Sam’s questions.

His voice rang clear like a bell, but the deepness of it tumbled like rolling thunder. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey,” I whispered, grateful that some of the rasp dissipated.

“You actually picked up this time,” he said, and I could hear the smile, “A pleasant surprise, I think. Nothin’ came up tonight?”

I paused for a moment, lost in the river of his voice, drifting in the way his accent laced around the syllables and consonants of his words.

I finally answered after that brief moment. “No, nothing.”

I was hoping the short, terse answer would have him thinking I was alright, but the way he stayed silent for a few, tense seconds told me otherwise.

“Are you okay, darlin’?”

The simple question had me blanking. I hurried, “I’m fine.”

Another pause. “You don’t sound fine.”

“Probably the distortion of the line.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Darlin’.”

The sudden stern, yet caring tone of his voice made me go silent. I tried to think of another excuse, a rebuttal as to why I didn’t ‘sound fine’, but my efforts were short-lived, what little energy I had left soon used up.

I sighed with a small chuckle, “You caught me red-handed. I guess the jig is up now.”

I could hear him sigh too, and I laughed again as I heard him curse quietly.

He asked, “How long have you been sick?”

“Since Monday.”

“Monday?” he gawked, “You’ve been feelin’ like this all week but haven’t said anythin’? Is this the real reason you haven’t been answerin’ my calls?”

“Yep. Maybe I should start calling you ‘Detective Collins’ instead of ‘doctor’.”

Another curse, and this time I laughed a little louder.

“Very funny, darlin’,” he grumbled, “Are you at home right now?”

I cleared my throat. I winced. “Yeah. Why?”

“I’m comin’ over.”

I winced again, but not because of my throat.

This is why I had lied about why I couldn’t answer his evening calls. I knew exactly what he would do if I hadn’t—he’d figure me out in less than a minute, proceed to immediately drop everything, call for a favor that he didn’t have, and rush over to my place.

“You don’t need to do that,” I argued, “I’m okay taking care of myself.”

He paused again, and I could sense the incoming cross-examination from a mile away.

“Have you been takin’ medicine? Do you have any medicine?”

“Yes, actually,” I said, “I always have painkillers on me. I’ve been taking them since Monday.”

“Have you been eatin’?”

“Yes.”

“I should clarify— have you been eatin’ well?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but he interrupted. “Take-out doesn’t count.”

I blanked again. Dammit.

I laughed. “You know me too well.”

“Maybe. I’ll be over there in about half n’ hour. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good. I could use your company anyway.”

I could hear his smile again. “Good. I’ll see you soon, darlin’.”

“See you. Drive safe.”

—

A half hour came and went, and I heard the rhythm of his knock sound at the door. I hopped up and jogged to the door, excitement bubbling in my chest as I opened it.

Sam looked down at me, a soft gentle smile spreading across his face. “You know, you didn’t have to come up to open the door. You coulda called me in.”

I arched a brow. “I’m getting déjà vu, cowboy.”

He laughed, and I added, “Are you gonna ask me to let you in yet, or…? I think you might’ve missed your line cue.”

Another smile and another laugh. My heart fluttered.

I stepped aside to let him in, watching as he had to duck beneath the door frame. I shut the door quietly and clicked the lock close.

He must’ve caught me watching him because he turned to glance at me, and he tilted his head towards the door. “Low frame.”

“Tall cowboy.”

He glared at me, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not a cowboy.”

“Tell that to your accent, red flannel, and blue jeans.”

I chuckled under my breath as I led him to the kitchen, ignoring his (not-so) quiet, in-denial statements of not being a cowboy.

When we walked into the kitchen, I jumped up to sit on the counter, and Sam moved to stand in front of me.

“Do you like getting a rise out o’ me?” He asked, light-hearted annoyance clear in his tone.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

I tilted my head. “Then yes, I do.”

I paused for a moment before adding, ”Should I even stop? You don’t seem like you mind it at all.”

“Oh, really?” He said, skepticism flowing through the words.

“Mhm, I think the blush is evident enough of that.”

His eyes widened, then he glared again. “I don’t blush.”

“Déjà vu again, and that’s what they all say…”

“That’s what I say.”

“Oh?”

“And what I say is right.”

I leaned a little closer to him. “Your cheeks have only gotten pinker, you know.”

He leaned closer too. “I wonder whose fault that is.”

I felt my breath hitch, and my gaze flickered to his lips. His hands had been on either side of me on the counter, but his right moved to rest on my hip.

It wasn’t the first time his hand had been there.

I noticed when his eyes dropped to my lips too. His thumb ran back and forth across the bone of my hip, and my heartbeat slowed down to match the rhythm.

We looked each other in the eye for a few moments before we both broke contact. Chaste sighs and shaky breaths filled the cool air and broke the brief silence.

I turned to look at the counter, only to see three heavy grocery bags sitting on top of it. I hadn’t noticed them when he first walked in.

“Why?” I asked with a long, heavy sigh.

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why?” I stressed as I gestured to the bags with a long, sweeping motion of my hand.

“Because I know damn well your pantry is runnin’ on empty.”

I crossed my arms. “You’d be surprised again.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, his gaze suspicious, unbelieving. He walked over to the pantry and opened it, and I grinned when I saw his eyes widen.

“Told you so.”

Although the shelves weren’t nearly stocked to full, there was a box of cereal and a few packs of ramen. Some cans of vegetables were stacked high on the top shelf, along with a box of crackers. A pack of granola bars and another of fruit cups sat brand new, pristine and perfect on the top shelf.

“You did,” he agreed as he walked back over to the counter, “Although I’m not sure how I feel ‘bout the ramen sittin’ in there.”

I smiled at him. “Baby steps?”

“Baby steps.”

He started to unload the grocery bags and I watched him quietly. The silence that fell over us wasn’t awkward or unsettling—it was calm. The current was cool and comfortable, laying between us in supple waves.

A few minutes had passed by when Sam turned to me, his eyes and voice soft as he said, “While I get dinner started, you can go lay down if you want.”

I frowned at him. “Are you sure? You don’t need any help?”

“No, I’ve got it from here. Go get some rest,” he reassured with a tilt of his head towards the living room.

I nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, darlin’. I’ll be done in a bit.”

—

I was drifting in and out of sleep on the couch, but I guessed it had been around fifteen minutes when I heard Sam come into the living room. He sat down next to me on the other end, but I sat up and moved closer to him.

He looked down at me, his arm moving to wrap around my shoulder. He was stiff for a moment—unsure if I wanted his arm there, if I wanted his touch. I silently answered his question by leaning into him and resting my head on his shoulder, and I felt him relax.

“How have you been?” He asked, his voice low.

“Tired.” Loaded answer.

“You look tired.”

I looked up at him, sarcasm invading my tone as I said, “I don’t know why you would ever even think that.”

I expected him to laugh, but he didn’t. He made eye contact with me and said, softer this time, “Not just that kind o’ tired, darlin’. More than that.”

He didn’t say anything else, and I realized that the next part of our conversation was up to me. The ball was in my court— I could keep everything to myself and switch gears, or I could tell him. I could open up a part of me to him, or I could keep it hidden until I felt comfortable. He was, albeit silently, letting me know this decision was only mine to make.

I still wasn’t used to having a choice like this.

I sighed shakily, the decision caught in my throat.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him everything with each fiber of my being.

I didn’t think I would—I figured I would make another sarcastic comment and toss the ball back into his court, letting him continue the conversation in a different, familiar direction. I figured I’d blow off his concerns in exchange for not having to try and find the words to tell him how I’ve been feeling, but I didn’t want to.

If there was anyone I wanted to know, it was him—a part of me was scared of that, scared of letting him into the walls I’d built. But for some reason, with him, I found all of this to be easier. I gave him my key, finally letting him see the part of myself I had kept within for so long.

“It’s Quinn,” I answered, “I’ve been thinking about him. Not just him now, but the good memories before… before everything.”

He stayed silent again, waiting if I wanted to continue. I did.

“A part of me is still stuck on the good years. I remember who he was, who he used to be before I reported him— who we used to be.”

I looked up at Sam again. “I know you never knew him before then, but… I don’t know. Sam, I… I thought I was gonna marry him.”

I felt him tense, and he asked, “You dated?”

I nodded. “Four years. I reported him to the department a week after our fourth anniversary.”

I looked down and away from him—I was becoming unsure again. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, I haven’t told many people about this,— him and I, I mean.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said, his hand rubbing my shoulder gently, “Thank you for tellin’ me when you were ready.”

I smiled, and he added, “You can keep goin’ if you want. You don’t have to tell me the things you aren’t ready to say out loud. Take as much time as you need.”

I reached my hands towards his face and pulled him down a bit, and I pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead. I whispered, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, darlin’,” he murmured back with a small smile.

I rested my arms back at my sides and continued with another deep breath. “It’s hard to think about what he’s done up to now whenever I look back on the three years we had before everything started to go south— before he started to go south. The cognitive dissonance has me questioning if any of it was real in the first place. I can’t help but to think he’s always been like this, always been this— this monster, but the part of me that still loves him can’t come to terms with that.

“And I try to think if there were any signs before, if there were some clues or evidence that I missed. I’ve gone through every photo, every text message, every voicemail, and I can’t find anything. The rose-tinted lenses were stuck then, and they seem to be stuck now, no matter how hard I try to break them. I wish I could’ve stopped it before this all happened, cut him off when I realized he wasn’t who I thought he was. If I hadn’t spent that last year with him where I held on to the man I met, to the man I fell in love with, none of this would’ve happened at all.”

I was choking up by the end, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks as I turned away from Sam. I hung my head low, feeling every single word lace and pull tight into my very being as truth now that they were spoken aloud. It felt like I was being taken apart by them, thread by thread, needle in tandem with needle, as I unraveled into something utterly unrecognizable.

Sam unslid his arm from around my shoulders and shifted to kneel on the floor in front of me. His hands were in mine now, and he asked, voice sweet as molasses, “Darlin’, can you look at me?”

I did with a struggle, my whole body shaking now that I’d been honest with him. The look in his eyes only made it all worse—silver irises now swirling with sympathy and grief between the crimson flecks.

“Thank you,” he began, “And darlin’, I need you to know that none o’ this is your fault— and I mean that, I mean it with my whole heart, every part o’ me. It is not your fault for any of this because all o’ that blame that’s been placed on you should be thrown on his shoulders. The difference is that you’re the one bein’ hit with the ramifications o’ what he’s done the hardest. You’ve been there since his start—you’ve had to watch all of this happen.

“Listen to me when I tell you that it wasn’t, hasn’t, and will never be your responsibility to have noticed the change in him before. You have a connection to him that the rest of us don’t— you were in love with him, darlin’. Of course you tried to hold on and tried to help him see differently, but he was the one who didn’t listen. This is the path that he chose and this is the path he tried to force you on, and he got upset when you didn’t listen to his orders.

“You’ve done so much, darlin’. You went to the department and reported him even when you knew the consequence. You took that risk in stride with more bravery than anyone I know. You came back down here to Dahlia to track him, and kept yourself isolated because you wanted to protect your pack, even if it meant riskin’ your life. You’ve done more to try and track him on your own than the entirety of the department has in the past two years. I’m askin’ you to hear me now that I’ve said all o’ this— hear me when I tell you that you’ve done worlds beyond what you had to, and that you don’t have to burden this alone anymore. You have me, the pack, and the clan right behind you, ready for whenever he comes back. You are not alone, darlin’, and you’re never goin’ to have to be again for as long as we can help it.”

I dove towards him, my arms spiraling around his neck as I pulled him closer to me. He grunted before hugging back, his arms circling around my waist until they pulled me to him. I rested my head in the crook of his neck, the tears falling easily, but not for the reason they had been before. These tears were grateful, relieved, awestruck—these tears were made up of words I couldn’t think of in that moment. All I could think of was Sam and his touch, and how he had been able to reassure me in a way I didn’t think anyone else would.

I pulled away from him slightly, my hands still on him as I said, “Thank you.”

He reached up to wipe away my tears with his thumb. “Anytime.”

I leaned into his touch. “I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

He moved to sit back down on the couch and he hugged me again, this time with my body pressed against his chest. We laid like that for a while, that same comfortable silence coming back to us.

Sam was like water—gentle and all encompassing. He washed over me, his tide pushing and pulling around me. Our streams ebbed and flowed with each other until they headed into a single, glistening river.

Even when the surface was choppy and I thought I might drown, he was there to keep me afloat. The depthless ocean that seemed to have a grip on me was flattened by him, ready to hold me when I couldn’t see the bottom. His current was ever-steady, keeping me stable as I drifted amongst the waves.

A girl and a sword that’s not hers

The companion piece I drew

nii-chan knows best [todoroki x reader]

▷       bnha

↳ pairing: shouto todoroki x f!reader

↳ content: aged up character(s), niichan!shouto x imouto!reader, quirkless!reader, virgin!reader, manipulative relationship, corruption, incest, (mention of) spanking, dubcon, teasing, object humping, (mention of) leg humping, cunnilingus, fingering, (a bit of) aftercare

↳ words: 3k

⇢ summary: living with your big brother was exhausting, every day focused on making sure you always knew your place. He was so serious and commanding all the time, scolding you for the slightest misstep. but nii-chan always knows best.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: the things that manifest at midnight, right?

You had lain there for what seemed like hours as you waited for the house to be still; a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding escaped your lips when you heard his door close, the sound still too loud for your liking. But a long, hard day called for some relief and you’d waited long enough.

Living with your big brother was exhausting, every day focused on making sure you always knew your place. He was so serious and commanding all the time, scolding you for the slightest misstep.

‘Nii-chan is only doing what’s best for you,’ he would reassure you in his soft, deep voice.

Every. Single. Time.

You thought about the particular time you wore your skirt too short and had been forced across his knee to receive your punishment; the soft skin of your rear marred with his big red handprints, adding just one more while he spoke those comforting words. Or maybe it had been when you foolishly misspoke in front of his friends; behind closed doors he had grabbed you by the hair with his left hand, pushing your face against the wall as his ice-tipped right hand flittered across your body, sending tendrils of controlled freezing wherever he pleased as he spoke those words again.

Or maybe--

Your entire body tensed, hips arching ever so slightly, and your breath shuddered thinking about how Shouto would punish you. You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth pricking at your skin as you told yourself over and over that you shouldn’t feel this way, not about him, not about your Nii-chan.

A short, broken whimper slipped through your lips, the once gentle heat that had been but a tantalizing ripple in your core now undulated hotly with an embarrassing lust and need. Your itching fingers searched at the sheet beneath you, your toes curled as you gripped at it in exasperation.

You groaned, pushing your head back against your pillow, hair splayed messily as you shook it back and forth.

It’s not right… is it?

You strained against the moan that threatened to escape as it pushed against your throat, your imagination invoking the feeling of Shouto’s hands raking their way down your body, teasing you with his quirk as he always would. A prickling of heat there, a shock of cold here.

There was no escaping it; your soft, contemptible moan broke free of your lips despite your best efforts. You inhaled sharply through trembling lips as your right hand wandered across the silk of your nightgown, your stomach fluttered beneath the touch of the dainty material when your fingers brushed against it.

Without a second thought, you balled the nightgown in your hands and ruched it up high around your midriff. You altered your position slightly in the process, widening up your pelvis as your right hand resumed its place at your hip. You fingered gently at the filly seam of your panties, back and forth along the sensitive skin above your groin.

Letting your eyes wander over to the left, they fell upon a plushie on your bedside table, the over-the-top flames and garish orange and blue stood out among everything else. Your father’s stern eyes glared right at you.

Of all things, it had to be Endeavor...

You scoffed, furrowing your brow, turning your eyes to look up at the canopy above your head. Your hand still fiddled away at your panties, enjoying the pleasurable feeling it sent further down.

You brought your free hand to your chest and for a moment, merely cupped your breast, feeling the weight rest against your palm. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you moved your other hand down, tentatively rubbing at your slightly parted lips beneath more silk. You pressed down gently on your already swollen clit, shuddering and whimpering when an overpowering wave of pleasure washed over you.

Your mind wandered and so did your hand; you reached for the plushie with your left and passed it over to your right.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you whispered, pulling it beneath the blanket.

Any nervousness you felt abated when you pressed the stuffed toy against your mound, releasing a soft moan as you pushed it down until you felt a pleasant pressure against your throbbing clit.

You closed your eyes, your hips gently moving to grind against the toy, and thought of sitting on your Nii-chan’s lap. 

You had been sitting at the table with him and his friends, and of course, he had encouraged you to sit on him instead of standing. You had straddled him, facing the table, with one of his muscular thighs held between yours.

You moaned, lost in the thought, as you held down harder on the plushie as you humped against it.

You recalled just how you’d sat on him, feeling the muscles beneath you tense, your panties and his slack trousers the only barrier between you. You’d felt his hands on your hips, just below the eyesight of his friends, begin to move you slowly and deliberately. Surely they had seen how bright you’d turned as you humped against your Nii-chan���s leg, and you were sure he could feel your wetness on his leg as--

You moved with more vigor as you allowed your memory to consume you; you brought your left hand back to your breast, biting your bottom lip again as you cupped it in your hand. Your thumb gently brushed against your erect nipple through the nightgown and the soft silk against your sensitive skin made you squirm.

You brought your legs up, a low groan broke from your throat, your position now granting you much more movement of your hips.

“Daddy,” you whined, your eyes shot open with horrific realization.

Adding to your already awkward situation, you watched in fear as the door to your bedroom opened.

“Daddy, huh?” a familiar voice chastised.

He was so smug as he sauntered in through the half-open door, his eyes peering at you through his half-red, half-white hair. You knew you had been caught red-handed, you also knew he would be sure to enjoy it.

“I- It’s not,” you stammered, stalling as you attempted to figure a way out of this predicament.

“It’s not what, little sister?” he implored as he closed the door behind him. 

It barely made a sound.

You only watched as his tall, striking figure approached your bedside; his broad, muscular chest was bare, your eyes wandered down to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. Not only did you feel flush at the sight of the bulge below the band, but you felt the quickening throb of your clit beneath the plushie between your thighs. You clenched tightly.

How much worse can this get?

“Well?” he pressed on, stern and severe as he folded his thick arms across his chest.

You internally reprimanded yourself for admiring the way his pectoral muscles squeezed beneath the bulk of his arms, the way the minimal lighting accentuated the definition of his biceps and his tight abdomen.

Shouto examined your silhouette beneath your blanket, there was no mistaking the outline of your knees in the air, legs spread.

“Nii-chan asked you a question, little sister,” he prompted, bending over to rest his palms on the edge of your bed. He turned his head to look at you; he had never needed to give you a verbal telling off, his cold eyes said everything he needed to. “Don’t be so rude.”

“I wasn’t--” 

You didn’t have the time to react to Shouto gripping the blanket between his hands, pulling it away from you, unveiling your shameful act. Your nose prickled, tears welling behind your eyes as you let your hold on the plushie go, your hand falling to your side, but you dare not lower your legs; you brought the hand at your breast down to rest above your abdomen. You felt so exposed as you fiddled nervously at the hem you’d bunched up. 

Silly girl.

You felt the pressure under his heavy gaze as he scanned you up and down, but you noticed his not-so-hidden bulge twitch beneath his trousers when he looked below your hips. He let the blanket drop to the floor and reached out. 

Shouto lifted the Endeavor plushie from between your legs, revealing your sodden garment; the silk had turned darker from your wetness.

You watched as he turned the plushie over in his hands, still looming over you.

“Tell me,” he began, carelessly throwing it over his shoulder, “why do you need Daddy when your Nii-chan is right here?”

He placed his right hand on your thigh closest to him.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, little sister,” he continued, squeezing it tight. 

You let out a meek cry as the cold he generated slowly froze your skin. He tutted at you, shaking his head as he climbed onto the bed and rested between your legs, low on his knees. Not once did he remove his bitingly cold hand, he only turned it as he clambered over you. 

You were only slightly relieved when he stopped using his quirk, you knew you would be feeling the discomfort for a day or two. You only hoped that you hadn’t angered Nii-chan enough that he refused to take care of you afterward. The thought alone was enough to break your heart.

You gasped, feeling a pleasantly familiar tingle as he stroked at you with his left hand, running his finger up and down the concealed slit beneath your soaked panties. Your Nii-chan seemed to like that, the smirk that formed on his lip was devilish.

You flinched under the pressure of his finger against your clit, the sensitive, swollen nub pulsing against the silk. With half-lidded eyes, you watched as both hands crept their way to your waistband.

You nibbled at your lip, nervously.

“Don’t play delicate, my dear, sweet little sister,” he cooed, words saccharine sweet as he snapped at the elastic. 

“I’m not, Nii-chan,” you shot at him, your voice may have been trembling but that attitude was certainly present in your tone.

He wouldn’t approve of that.

You watched, mouth agape, as he tucked his fingers of both hands beneath your waistband, he was still smirking as he roughly tugged at them, yanking them down your legs. You understood it would have been futile to push back against him; your Nii-chan had the strength and his unique quirk, you would always just be his pathetic, quirkless little sister.

Hanging your head in shame, you allowed him to move your legs as he removed your underwear; they hung as lifeless as a doll’s.

“Oh, but you are,” he corrected, gently setting your legs back to their upright position. “And Nii-chan is never wrong, is he?”

His hands felt like gentle kisses against your thighs as he leaned into you, his head nestled comfortably between your trembling thighs. You shook your head with a squeak, your voice pushed uncomfortable against your throat.

“Nii-chan only does what’s best for you, sweet sister,” you felt the vibrations of his low tones against your legs when he spoke. 

His fingers created delicate trails across your sensitive skin; across your hips, your pelvis, before resting painfully close to where you compulsively needed him. 

“Nii-chan is the only one who knows what’s best for you,” his words were slightly muffled as he continued, his lips so impossibly close to your tantalizingly sweet and prohibited, virginal cunt.

A loose moan escaped your lips, the feeling of his warm breath against your naked arousal more intense than you could have imagined. You felt him move to place his forefingers on either side of your clit, widening them to spread your lips. 

“Isn’t that right, little sister?” he finally continued, you felt rather than heard him.

“Nii-chan, you can’t,” you whimpered, quivering from either anticipation or unease, you couldn’t quite tell.

His eyes met yours, gazing up at you from between your legs, your poor cheeks prickling from the constant flush.

“‘Can’t,’ what?” he teased, his eyes never broke contact as he intruded your walls with his fingers without warning. “This?”

He watched you, obviously pleased as you squirmed and cried beneath him as your body experienced a newer sensation; it was different, far more different than when you had tentatively explored yourself. Two of your own slender fingers barely compared to one of his.

But now your Nii-chan had opened you up nicely with two of his thick fingers while he teased you, blowing a gentle breath against your clit. You whined, balling the sheet beneath you in one hand and your nightgown in the other.

“Nii-chan… don’t,” you cried half-heartedly, feeling his lips encapsulate your thrumming clit.

You felt the vibration of his mocking laugh right up against you, crying out when his tongue tickled at your bundle of nerves.

He pushed his left hand under your leg, enticed by the way you squirmed beneath him when he squeezed your asscheek. He enjoyed the way your flesh felt in his palm, softly kneading it with his hand. 

The uncontrollable, fluttering little moans you rewarded him with when he pushed his way deeper into your untouched walls, suckling at your delicate nub, only encouraged his debaucherous act.

You keened as he hooked his fingers further inside your cunt, massaging that special spot that made you convulse beneath him. When your vision started to pock with white spots, you clenched your eyes shut, biting your lips against your sinful noises.

Your Nii-chan took this as an incentive to generously lap at your clit. You cried and held your fists tighter, your knuckles white as he slurped loudly at your juices, abusing your sopping wet hole with his fingers. 

Shouto’s hand squeezed your asscheek again, you felt the prickling heat as he used his quirk. The pang of panic you felt soon dissipated when, with one final thrust of his thick fingers finding your delicious sweet spot, he began to rub vigorously.

A feeble whimper broke through your moans when he released your engorged clit from his mouth, he held his steady momentum against your g-spot while you came undone.

“Nii-chan knows best for his little sister, doesn’t he?” he asked, his calmness was eerie.

You only responded with your titillating noises, and while he enjoyed them, it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

“Answer me, sweet sister,” he growled as he halted his fingers.

The gyration of your hips only made him chuckle.

“So needy and innocent, aren’t you,” he mused, pressing his thumb against your clit. “Now,” he continued, “Nii-chan kno--”

“Yes,” you cried, now almost tearing at the fabric in your hands, “Nii-chan knows best!”

Shouto watched as your pert breasts heaved up and down with your erratic breathing while he rewarded you by moving his fingers roughly against your sweet spot. He smirked, hearing a deliciously guttural moan break free from you as your walls tightened and hips shuddered. He felt your body spasm as you came, your slick pooling on his palm.

He didn’t seem satisfied.

You sobbed, feeling a foreign pressure coil within you as he roughly fucked you with his fingers. You looked at your Nii-chan with concern. 

“Nii-chan it--” you croaked, breathing hard and fast, lost in a tumult of confusion and pleasure.

“Relax my sweet, little sister.” He sounded so soothing while he abused your pretty little cunt, bringing you to heights you didn’t think possible. 

You heard him groan as his lips once again came in contact with your clit, it twitched beneath his tongue as he gently circled it; a harsh contrast to his thick, intruding fingers. Your body tensed completely, you heard Shouto groan into you as you finally allowed yourself to let go, your loud whines and moans filled the air.

You felt his fingers struggle against your tight walls, whimpering and twisting beneath him as the coil wound tighter and tighter until--

“Nii-chan!” you sobbed, feeling a pressure release from between your legs and the tightened coil unravel; your head felt fluffy.

Shouto gently removed his thick fingers, moaning long and loud as he pressed his tongue flat against your slit. His strong hands rested on either side of your hips, you flinched, anticipating the quirk use that never came; he stroked your skin with care.

Your Nii-chan tenderly lapped at your tender cunt, moaning as he drank in your juices, honey on his tongue. He enjoyed the noises you made when he pushed his tongue further inside you but thought against pushing you further tonight.

“You’re so precious,” he told you, his eyes dark and intense.

You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, gently laying your legs down flat. He moved your hand from your chest and pulled your nightgown down, sweetly patting it around your thighs. 

You were curious as you watched him fumble with your dresser, averting your eyes when he poked through your underwear drawer. Shouto returned to the side of the bed, presenting you with a clean set of panties; you felt a whimper try to escape as he considerately dressed you.

He turned around to pick up your blanket, he smiled down at you softly as he wafted it in the air, letting if fall daintily over you. You noticed he ignored the plushie of your father, still left alone on the floor.

“Sweet dreams, little sister,” he whispered, he gently kissed your forehead as he tucked you under your blanket.

Before leaving your room he made a detour to the end of the bed, you were confused when he bent down. 

How embarrassing!

You spotted your wet panties balled up in his hand. He waltzed over to the bedroom door, seemingly proud of himself, and opened it ajar.

“Remember,” he said before leaving you in your haze, “Nii-chan always knows best.”

Imperituro

Alex is beautiful. That’s it. That’s the honeymoon. (sneaky collage feature of the man we all love rn who could legit play NN Alex in a movie)

- chapter navigation -

The wind was cool, the ocean air pleasantly refreshing, but even from where she was laid back in the centre of the deck, Jade could make out a sheeny layer on Alexander's skin, his hair damp, loose strands falling over his forehead every now and then, the wedding ring particularly noticeable somehow, reflective in the sun whenever he brought his hand up and raked his fingers through his hair, or gripped the steering wheel of the small motor yacht he had acquired for them in advance, Peitho, presented his boating license for which had come to a surprise even to his wife.

His linen shirt was fully unbuttoned, moving in the wind like the matching trousers, the white material a stark contrast to his tanned skin, the black ink and scars. A pair of aviator shades was sat on the bridge of his nose, the glasses tinted orange, the gold frame as reflective as his ring and his chain and she was unable to take her eyes off him, unsure when exactly he was looking right at her, when past her, her own hungry gaze obstructed by her own sunglasses. The sun was warm on her skin, the breeze as Alexander picked up the speed welcomed as it cooled over the oil, the sweat all over her body. She took a deep breath, had just closed her eyes to relax when she noticed him slowing, heard him before she could lift herself up to give him a look.

“Jade...”

He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, squinted against the sun, but his eyes were fixated on her body, the way she was sprawled out flat on her back, the bright red string bikini that had not covered up much of her now completely discarded to the side. He was in no way surprised, appreciative if anything, reveled in the view she offered, especially with no one but him around to enjoy it.

Her lips curled into a smile as she caught his gaze, her heart skipping a beat as he slowly strode over once the boat had come to a complete stop. “Alexander...”

The corner of his lip twitched upward as he came to sit down next to her, his focus unshaken, his fingers itching to put his hands on her. “Made yehrself rehyt at 'ome, eh?” he drawled, licking his lips. “Dun't mind if I join yeh...” He cleared his throat, scratching at his chin. “I mean, I am the captain after all.”

She smiled, humming complacently, tilting her head to the side as she propped herself up onto her elbows to watch him closely.

“C'mon, darlin'...” He pursed his lips, his hand reaching to come down on her thigh, humming appreciatively when she shifted her legs apart for him. “Get up in me lap.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, slowly pushing her own sunglasses into her hair. Despite the ocean air, the rose-scented oil on her skin, she was instantly surrounded by the spice of him, the irresistible smell that was so uniquely her husband.

“C'mon...” he urged. “I kno' yeh can't 'elp yehrself.”

She knew exactly what he wanted, wanted him, but she also gagged for his appreciation and attention. “Alexander, what is it that you want?”

He swallowed, his skin stretching over his adam's apple prominently. “Jade, I kno' wha' yeh need.”

“I think I'd rather know what you need, baby...”

He pressed his lips together, his gaze never leaving hers. “Fookin'ell, yeh're 'ard work todeh...” His hand squeezed her thigh lightly, but he shifted to lower himself down the small step, slightly below her before she could respond, had in no time taken a hold of her thighs and pulled her down, earned himself a desperate whine the moment he got to work on her, could taste sweat and oil and the sweetness of her, instantly craving more, his grip tightening, nails digging into her skin.

She'd been dizzy from the sun, the glass of champagne she'd had with breakfast, but the demanding heat of his lips, relentlessness of his tongue had her writhing, hopelessly light-headed, aching to push her hips into the bliss he offered, as well as squirm from the intensity, but the moment she shook, attempted to move, his grip tightened further, one hand clamped down on her hip, the other reaching to squeeze her breast, then his fingers closed around her throat, in complete control of her body, the muscles of his arm tense. “A-Alexander...”

“Wha', darlin'?” he rasped against her, his voice vibrating against her wet skin, sucking on her clit, then covering her entirely with his lips, his tongue toying with her, leaving her breathless and unable to form a coherent sentence before he heard her voice, felt in shaky.

“I-It's so hot...” she whined.

He lifted his gaze up at her, met with her desperate gaze, as well as a gorgeous view of her body on display for him, under his absolute mercy. “D'yeh want meh t'stop?”

“N-No...” came her choked response, so close to her release, panic flickering in her eyes. “No, please...”

He lifted his head, licked his lips clean, his fingers instantly replacing his tongue as he came to climb over her, blocking the sun and she got the sinfully beautiful view of his face, enhanced only by the pleasure he evoked with the lazy strokes of his fingertips between her legs which spread further for him instantly, twitching upwards, desperate for more.

“Jade, I'm gunna 'ave yeh rehyt 'ere...” he announced, the intensity in his eyes merciless, wild with lust.

She couldn't help but admire the sharp edge of his jaw, the way everything about him was so effortlessly luxurious. She wanted to see it all. “B-Baby...” she whined as he shifted to discard of his trousers, though held her in place with his hand remaining around her throat, as well as his eyes pinning her down. “P-Please take this off...”

He cocked an eyebrow, his eye twitching, his chain hung loosely from his neck, his hair falling into his eyes. “Wha'?”

She nodded, begging him with her eyes, trying to push the shirt down his shoulders, dragging her hands over the muscle, the tattoos, the scars. “Yes, baby, you're so hot...”

A smile played around his lips and he sat up momentarily, shrugged out of the shirt before he was right there again, insistent on taking her breath away and she could hardly brace herself, his nails digging into his shoulder, eyes wide as his forehead rested against hers and he filled her, bucked up his hips to bury himself inside her, drunk on the sounds that fell from her lips as she clung to him, wrapped her legs around him to take him deeper, shook from the tight fit. “Y-Yes...”

His own breathing was heavy and he took a hold instantly of her wrists, left her with no leverage and no other choice but to take him, his lips attaching to her neck, desperate to add to the marks he'd already left on her with his hands, his lips, his teeth.

Her eyes fell shut despite the desperate urge to watch him, restricted by his large hands, her lips close to his ear as she whimpered each time he rolled his hips into hers hard, had her writhing beneath him, trying to meet his thrusts.

He slowed momentarily, smiling to himself about the way she tensed, took a breath and he stalled, built her anticipation before he bit down her neck, pushed all the way inside her again, his own breath shaken by the way she squeezed him, gushed around him, desperate to adjust, the way she relaxed when he filled her so heavenly it felt like somewhat of a fantasy, but the strangled moan of his name was beautifully tangible and nothing felt more real.

“Tha' it, doll?”

She nodded eagerly, her legs wound tighter around him desperately. “Y-Yes...” she cried, cold tears rolling down her warm cheeks.

“Mmmm, all mine...” he drawled in complete fascination of her, admiring her desperation. “Feel good, dunnit?”

“I need you,” she whined.

He chuckled, withdrawing his hips, unwinding her legs from around him, watching the pleading look widen her eyes, loved how badly she needed him. “Turn 'round for meh, doll...”

Jade swallowed, wanted nothing more than for him to get his way, have his way with her, but he looked irresistibly gorgeous, like it should have been forbidden for her to look at him, she refused. “Baby, no...”

He raised his eyebrows. “No?” he asked, an edge to his voice that had her tighten around nothing.

“I want to see you,” she whispered, ready to defy him, but she was practically salivating at the view of him, the way he'd looked above her, illuminated by the sun, all of him fully on display. “Please,” she added. “I'll ride you, get on my knees, anything...”

His obsession with how desperate she was for him prevailed over his irritation, her complete devotion to him leaving no room for a sense of punishment, he knew how devoted she was to him, but the fact that her eyes were on him so hungrily, he wondered if she could tell the attention unsettled him and he maintained the expressionlessness of his features, moving to sit and gesturing pointedly, seemingly unimpressed. “C'mon then.”

She needed no telling twice, climbed into his lap with ease, eager, one hand on his shoulder, the other at the back of his neck for leverage as she sank down on him, her hips shaking, despite the lack of surprise whining when his hand pushed down down on her thigh to force her down on him fully straight away, the other pressed flat to the small of her back to arch her into him, made the stretch burn blissfully.

The strangled moan so close to his ear had him drunk on her instantly, breathing her in, bending her body the way he liked as she started bouncing on him, though held herself back, the way she watched him offering the most exquisite view of her and he couldn't help but let her get what she want while drinking her in, the subtle shimmer of the oil dipping her body in a beautiful golden glow in the sun.

Her fingers were wound into his hair, his entire body tense when she pulled, then he relaxed, the tightness leaving his taunt muscles, his head shifting into her touch and she pulled again, couldn't get enough of the need on his face, the way his lips parted when she sank down on him, his eye twitching, his skin sheeny and beautiful, his chest heaving with breathlessness, the muscles in his neck tight, his collarbones prominent, jaw locked.

“'eeere she goes...”

The drawl of his voice, deep and guttural, shook her, had her sinking down on him further, wanting to feel more of him, though as much as he controlled her, she knew she'd struck a nerve, he was intensely aware of the fact that he held her full attention, could not possibly deny her what she wanted, but it wasn't just the way he filled her as possessively as she craved, wasn't who he was, she was looking right at him, right through him in a way he looked only at her. But she couldn't help herself, wanted to give him everything he gave her, working her hips faster into his, desperate to worship him. “Y-You're so hot, Alexander, f-fuck...”

“Jade,” he growled, his voice shaken with pleasure. He ached to take control of her. “I wanna fookin' ruin yeh...” His grip tightened on her, moving her.

“Oh my god...” she whined as he forced her down hard, reveled in the way he was unpredictable, uncontrollable when he lost himself in need. “Y-You do...”

He tutted, though couldn't quite hide how affected he was by the way she drew him in, her eyes desperate. “Let meh fook yeh rehyt, doll...” He bucked up his hips, almost let go then and there from the way she fell against him, cried his name. “Oh, sheh's close...” he taunted.

She clung to him, tried to keep the pace, but the pleasure was overwhelming her, the intensity of him taking over her body. “M-May I p-please...” she choked out helplessly.

He smoothed his hand up her back to arch her against him before his fingers came to close around her throat and he drew her back to look at her, a sunlit view of her face smooth and relaxed with overwhelming pleasure when she shook on his cock, the only leverage the way she squeezed him, was at his unconditional mercy as she let go and he instantly followed suit, his moan shaken by a breathy chuckle at the way she purred when he twitched inside her, filled her, knew she would have lost complete control of her posture had he not tightened his grip on her throat, amazed at the way she stared before her eyes rolled back into her head as he choked her, his ring pressed into her skin, her afterglow disrupted by another orgasm that made her tremble.

“Fooookin'ell, Jade...”

Her vision was a blur for a moment, her entire body tingling, the ocean rushing in her ear, the scent of it mixed with sweat and smoke and the sweet spice of the men that held her safely, his touch on her the only heightened sense and tangible for a moment, and she merely grew weaker when her eyes refocused and she saw the satisfied smile on his face, lifting her off him gently not to overwhelm her, but she wanted more, tried to steady herself on her knees when his hands cupped her face and he kissed her, the intensity of his lips urging, passionate, possessive and drawing back just before she would have run out of breath, staring up at him as he rose to his feet, brushed back his hair from his face and squinting up into the sun, stood in all his glory, shiny, sunkissed, toned, curved, sculpted flawlessly.

“Mio dio, I adore you...” she whispered.

His eyes widened, his head tilted to the side. “Darlin', c'mon...” he said, waving off the awe in her voice, though watching her closely as she came closer, crawled to him, lifted herself up shakily, her nails digging into his ass, grabbing a handful while her mouth enveloped him, licked him clean, lips wrapped tightly to suck around him, releasing him just before she could overwhelm him and he brushed her hair back lovingly before dragging her up and wrapping his arm around her to pull her close. “C'mon now...”

She blinked back at him, pressed herself closer, barely allowed a look at the softness in his eyes before he was kissing her again, forcing her lips apart in a breathless moan.

He was unable to contain himself, regretted now that he'd stopped her. “Fook, I can't get enouf of yeh,” he rasped as he drew back, the lust in her eyes irresistible. “Why dun't yeh get back down and I use yehr pretteh mouf until I'm readeh teh 'ave me way wif yeh...”

She needed no telling twice, sinking back down on her knees.

“Nice 'n slow though, doll,” he warned, stroking his fingers through her hair again, the deep drawl of his voice in contrast to the softness in his eyes, unable to conceal his own need for her. “Y'kno' yeh get greedeh...”

She stared up at him, licking her lips. “I love you, Alexander.”

He swallowed hard. “Fookin'ell, Jade...” His voice was trembling. “Pupa, ti adoro. Ti amo, amore mio.”

Show Me You Love Me [Katsuki Bakugou]

Or Day 6. Morning sex [Bakugou]

!!18+!!

WC: 1783

Pairing: Pro Hero Bakugou x FemReader

Contains: Aged up character, Soft Bakugou, Oral, the word “c*nt”, unprotected sex, breeding kink?, slight Somnophilia

Ry: I know at day 6 you’re like “why did you switch to bnha?” and it was bc of Bakugou’s hero name being revealed and I just… i had to

[Smut Under Cut]

Being married to Pro Hero DynaMight was amazing, but had its drawbacks like any relationship. The main one being, you went to bed basically every single night by yourself, to a large empty house. Katsuki Bakugou worked nights basically every single day, even after you two had gotten married and moved into a four bedroom house that you had been saving up for.  While you were a pro hero too, you worked days, getting up right as Katsuki fell into his deep sleep. Last night had been one of those nights, when you had fallen asleep alone. 

Now it was early morning, your alarm going off beside your head. Damn, you had forgotten to turn it off. You peek at your phone, pressing on the screen to turn it off before rolling over. Your hand lands on your husband's large muscled form beside you, waking you up just a bit more. Katsuki was snoring softly at first, groaning and shifting as you touched him. 

This peeked your interest, making you run your fingers along his muscles. His body wiggled, his brows furring as his lips formed a pout and let out another groan. The two of you had always had a policy that ‘if you wake me up with sex, it’s fine’, but had never really used it due to the way your schedules worked. It had been too long since you had felt him, the urge too strong to fight back. Plus, he could always go back to sleep, right? 

Slowly, you moved your fingers down, running your nails gingerly along the hard muscle, all the way down to his hips. Under you, his muscles shifted as he groaned, trying to roll away from your hand in his sleep. 

Grinning a bit, you pressed down on his hip to keep him from rolling, pulling at his boxers once he settled back. It took a bit of maneuvering, but you finally got them down enough that his half-flaccid dick was out, laying so temptingly against his pelvic area. 

Taking it in your hand, you rub your thumb against the under vein, slowly stroking it as you do so. Katsuki groans under you, his entire body shifting as his hips roll into your hand. A shiver runs down your spine, biting your lip as you muffle a soft moan of your own. You start moving your hand faster, your free hand sweetly playing with his balls. You can see his brows pressing together as he fights sleep, some part of him telling him to wake up. 

Licking your lips, you take this opportunity to lean down and flick your tongue over the slit on the head of his now hard cock. Another groan from his throat makes you take all of his cock down your throat the best you can, bobbing your head slowly, your cheeks hollow. Katsuki lets out a moan, his hips once again rolling, this time pushing his cock further down your throat. You pull back, coughing a bit, before looking up at his face. 

Bright red eyes are looking back at you, a smirk curled on the corner of his lips. “Mornin’ princess,” he purrs out with his husky morning voice.

You swallow, looking back into his eyes as you answer. “Mornin,” you murmur as Katsuki’s hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing away a piece of drool from when you had choked. 

“Don’t let me stop you. You were doing a good job,” he told you, eyes flickering down to his still erect dick. 

You nod, shifting back down and taking the head of his cock back into your mouth. You decided to go slow this time, slowly moving down as you sucked. Katsuki growled a bit, not liking the pace change, bucking his hips up. This time, though, you had caught his twitch so you pulled back with a pop, smirking at him as another growl came from this throat.

“Quit teasing me. You woke me up for this,” he told you, his voice low as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to him, your chest pressed against his. Shifting the two of you, Katsuki rolled on top of you, still holding onto one wrist, looking down at you. Light from the morning sun flooded through your windows, basking the two of you in a soft orange light. 

“Fuck, you’re so cute,” he murmured before pressing his lips roughly against yours. His free hand moved down, slipping under your pajama bottoms and underwear. He continued by pressing a finger between your pussy lips, finding your clit and rubbing against it softly. He smirked, taking his hand back and licking his now soaked finger. “Someone’s already so wet. Was sucking me off while I slept that much fun?” he teased.

You whined when he pressed against your clit, but let out a whimper when he pulled away, a pout forming on your lips. Sure, you had been teasing him but how dare he tease you?

“Maybe,” you retort, locking your eyes with his ruby-colored ones. 

His grin got wider as a laugh came from his throat, leaning in to kiss you sweetly. “I didn’t expect that honest response. It’s hot,” he said. Letting go of your wrist, he sits up, grabbing at the elastic on your pants, yanking everything off with one clean motion. Slipping between your legs, he forced you to spread them open, his eyes looking over every inch of your body. 

“You don’t usually wake me up, though… Why today?” he wondered as he leaned down, pressing kisses against your mound.

“I was lonely… and a little unloved...” you reply, letting out soft moans as his hands find their way up your body, running along your sides up to your chest to cup your breasts. You let out a few more moans as he began massaging them, arching your back a bit. 

“Sorry, babe... You know I love you,” he murmured before his tongue slipped between your pussy lips, burying his face nose deep into you. 

Katsuki loved being between your thighs, eating you out as if he was a starving dog. His tongue swiped along your cunt, flicking across your clit, causing you to arch your back and moan. One of his fingers slipped inside of you right as he began sucking on your sensitive bud, your hands finding his hair to tangle into. His finger began exploring your insides, finding a bundle of nerves and pressing against it. Another loud moan left your throat, a whimper following as he licked and sucked at your clit. He kept this up until you were a squirming mess under him, having added another finger as he finger-fucked you for a solid five minutes. Another solid press against your g-spot along with the flick of his tongue and gently suck of your clit, and you were rolling over the edge with your orgasm, bucking up into his mouth as you moaned his name over and over.

“Oh Katsu...,” you breathed out, shivering as you came down from your orgasm.

“I’ll make it up to you even more..” he said when he caught his breath, “How about I give you something to remember me even when I’m not here?” 

“Really?” you reply, your head snapping up to look back into his eyes. You had been wanting a child with Katsuki for a while now, and he always told you it wasn’t a good time. 

“Yeah,” he replied, kissing your belly before shifting up, his erection pressing against the folds of your aching entrance. “I can’t wait to cum inside you,” he said, his red eyes darkening with a hunger you hadn’t seen before, causing a shutter to run down your body. 

Without another word, Katsuki pushes himself inside you until he’s all the way. He began to pull out right away then pushed back into you with a snap of his hips, his pace already picking up by the sixth stride. The room filled with your moans, arching your back as you rolled your hips, grinding into Katsuki’s cock as he finally set his pace. Echoing your moans with soft groans and pants of his own, Katsuki looked down at you with heavy-lid eyes, your legs wrapped around his waist as he held your hips. 

His thumbs gently rubbed your hips as he kept up his pace, leaning down to kiss your lips twice. Letting go of your hips for a moment, he made your legs let go as he put your ankles onto his shoulders, groaning as he cock pushed deeper inside of you from the angle. One of his hands snaked up your thighs to your calves before his fingers wrapped around your ankles. His head tilted into your foot, kissing right above where his fingers were. You saw a glint in his eye as he smirked down at you before he started pounding mercilessly into you. A scream ripped from your throat from the sudden fast paced movements, the scream quickly dissolving into moans as he kept ramming into you.  

Katsuki groaned above you, mumbling out your name in between his soft pants, sweat slowly building up between your thighs and his chest. His free hand holds your hip for support as he pounds into you, his thumb gently rubbing your soft flesh before his fingers begin pressing into it. His hips started to get wilder with his thrusts, his cock twitching inside of you. His teeth gently sink into your ankle as he groans against your skin, obviously trying to keep himself from finishing.

“Come inside me,” you whine, reaching up to grip at his toned arms, scratching them as your nails run down the solid flesh. 

“Fuck YN!” he groans before slamming into you once more, thick ropes of cum plastering the inside of your canal, likely leaking into your womb. 

You arch into him, moaning as you feel yourself being filled up with a special warmth. Panting, the two of you slowly separate, with Katsuki moving himself so he laid beside you, his chest heaving in near motion with your own. You smile softly, rolling onto your side as you snuggle closer to Katsuki, resting your head against his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Ha? What for?” he wonders, looking at you with a cocked eyebrow.

“For showing you still love me,”

“Of course I love you, dumbass. I wouldn’t let just anyone have my kid,” he replied, kissing your forehead. His arm wrapped around you to pull you even closer, melding your body with his as he closed his eyes. “Now let me sleep,” he yawned out.

“Of course,” you whisper, kissing his chest. “I love you so much, Katsuki…”

​This is for @vixenpen​  @starry-eyed234​ ‘s Event!

MasterList for XXXMas

Main Event Post

Just The Way You Are <> Damon Salvatore

Possibly triggering... not sure

* * *

After taking a shower, wrapping myself in a warm towel that Damon must’ve warmed up for me, I walked up to the mirror, shaking out my hair.

I stand and stared at myself in the mirror, seeing how much I’ve changed.

My face is all broken out, my hair had turned brown instead of it’s original blonde, and I know I’m not just seeing it, but I know I have gained a few pounds.. I walked over to the scale and weighed myself.

Oh my god! I almost wanted to pass out. I had gained almost 20 pounds. How could I weigh so much? I wanted to scream.

I must have been so stressed lately that I’ve been stress eating and I haven’t kept track with my exercise, and…

Oh my god, I hate myself so much.

I stumbled back to the sink, leaning on it as I stared down. I looked up at myself, and I didn’t even want to look.

I looked back down, closing my eyes as I breathed in and out.

Just then, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist. I knew it was Damon.

He leans down, kissing my bare shoulder, kissing up my neck as I allowed one little bite at my ear. He loved to do that so I let him.

I look up again, staring at my handsome, fit boyfriend, who, even though I said otherwise, loves me for who I am.

After standing there for a few seconds, I sigh as my head falls.

“I hate myself,” I say under my breath.

“No, Y/N, don’t say that. Why would you say that?” Damon questions, spinning me around to which I was looking at him. He set his hand on my waist, the other on my cheek, wiping away some tears that began streaming from my eyes.

“Damon, look at me. My face is all broken out, my hair’s falling out along with the color-changing, and you know what the worst thing is? I’ve gained 20 pounds in the last 2 months. I have been stress eating for who knows how long and I haven’t been keeping up on my exercises and I can’t even fit into any of my clothes, especially my jeans. I’ve gotten fat and I can’t even look at myself, Damon. I…” I trailed off as he set his finger on my lips, shushing me.

“Y/N, please, I hate hearing you say that about yourself, and it’s ‘cause none of it’s true. Never beat yourself up like that. You are still as beautiful as ever. Humans change, and it’s normal. We can change it too. But you are not fat. You are beautiful, and gorgeous, and healthy. I will love you however you are and however you look. You will always be the most beautiful person in my eyes. You are even more beautiful than all the stars in the sky. I’d rather stare at you than staring at the sunset or sunrise. Y/N, never say any of that stuff about yourself. I love you for you and that’s all that is needed. I love you, Y/N, so much.” Damon explained to me, and I couldn’t help but let a few tears escape.

“Thanks, Damon. I love you, too.” He just smiled, and within not two seconds, he disappeared and reappeared before my eyes.

“No, put this on. I’m taking you out.” Damon commanded. As much as I wanted to, I don’t think I can fit in that dress anymore and I don’t want to go out like this.

“Damon…” But he interrupted me before I could go on.

“No, Y/N, you will put on this dress. I will force you into it if you don’t I’m taking you out for a late-night date and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now, I’m going to go get changed and if you’re not in that dress when I get back, I will through drastic measures to get you to put it on. You understand me?” He smiled at me with his amazing smirk.

I just nodded, a bright red blush on my cheeks and a shy smile. He kissed me on the tip of my nose before running off to get ready.

I slid on my dress, and somehow, it actually fit and it actually looked alright.

I dried my hair, brushing it out and letting it fall loose on my shoulders.

I washed my face, putting just a bit of concealer on with some face wash. It felt better that way.

I looked into the mirror once more, and I actually smiled. ‘Cause of Damon, I have a newfound confidence.

I grabbed my wedged heels before walking into Damon’s bedroom. I sat on his bed, strapping my shoes on.

Just as I was about to stand up, Damon walks in wearing my favorite casual look on him, a black button-up shirt with his famous black leather jacket, along with black jeans. He was always a dark clothing kind of guy, and I found it quite hot.

I stood up, walking up to Damon as he stared at me in what looked like amazement.

“Y/N, my love, you look absolutely astonishing,” Damon admitted, bringing a darker shade of red to my cheeks.

“Thanks. I hope you don’t mind. I’m not very good in the practice of high heel walking, and I guess you know that.” I mentioned, staring down at my wedged heels.

“I don’t mind. You look as beautiful as ever. And I see that dress fits perfectly. See, Y/N. What did I tell ya?” Damon smiled at me, walking up to me, setting his hands on my waist, and kissing my lips.

“Thanks, Damon. For everything. And ‘cause of you, I’ve got my newfound confidence.” I told him, smiling and rubbing his chest.

“Anything for you. Now, I’m gonna take you somewhere. But You can’t see it yet. So, close you’re eyes and hold this.” Damon commanded as I closed my eyes and he handed me something unknown.

I let out a small scream as Damon picked me up into his arms.

“Now, hold on and don’t let go,” Damon said as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

It felt like we were flying. It felt so nice against my skin, and the heat from the setting sun felt amazing.

I think we were at our destination when I felt Damon setting me down.

He kept my eyes covered with his hands as I stood in front of him.

“Okay, Y/N, now open your eyes,” he whispered close to my ear.

I opened my eyes to see the most magnificent waterfall ever. It was so blue and fell over several ledges.

“Damon, this is amazing. How did you find this place?” I ask, turning and looking back at him.

“Oh, I have my ways.” He smiles down at me.

“But this isn’t the best part. And we need to get there before the sun sets.” Damon mentions and I was a bit confused but in a good way.

“Before the sunset…” I got cut off by the fast rush of Damon running up the hill in which the waterfall streamed down.

We stopped, Damon letting me down once more.

We stood on top of a very high hill and he was covering my eyes again.

He uncovered them, staring at me to see my reaction.

I opened my eyes, and I saw the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen.

We were really high up. The hill overlooked the forest down below and out in the distance, there stood the amazing sunset. It was mixed with red and orange, making for a gorgeous sunset.

“Damon, I can’t believe this. It’s breathtaking.” I told him, looking back and seeing that he was laying out a blanket. On the blanket was set a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses. There were a few cups of fruit set next to them.

“Damon, this is stunning,” I added, looking back at the sunset.

“You’re stunning.” I heard Damon say behind me.

I turned once again, seeing Damon sitting on the blanket, waiting for my arrival.

I smiled as he smirked at me. I walked and sat next to him. He began pouring some wine into the glasses, handing me a glass.

I took a sip as Damon stared at me.

Just then, he leaned towards me, taking his thumb and guiding it along my top lip. He took his hand back, licking off whatever was on my lip, his eyes on me at all times.

I just giggled.

After finishing almost the whole bottle of wine and some fruit, Damon laid down, gesturing for me to go to him.

I laid down next to him, laying my head on his chest as he strokes his fingers through my hair.

I look up at him as he kisses the top of my head.

“Y/N, you are beautiful. No matter what you think or say, you are gorgeous just the way you are, inside and out. I love you.” Damon tells me and I believe him.

“Thanks, Damon. I love you, too.”

I leaned up as he leaned down, our lips connecting, his soft lips in perfect sync with mine.

We enjoyed the fresh air and the beautiful sunset, appreciating the nonstressful night together.

Beyond the bay chapter 2: Uninvited Visitor

Back at the lair, Leo and Raph couldn’t help but be anxious. It was six. The sun was rising, the city was waking. The shadows that hid them in the night were fading fast, and still there were no signs of Donnie or Mikey. Leo had given them the hour to get their pictures and get back, but it had been almost twice that without word. Raph had suggested calling them but was quickly shut down by Leo; if their brothers happened to be in a position where stealth was mandatory, such an action could easily doom their brothers to being spotted. All they could do was wait.

Simply sitting around and waiting in the living room with his father and brother quickly proved too irksome for Raph to handle. He needed to be moving, doing something to keep his mind occupied and away from the infuriating worry of Donnie and, most importantly, Mikey. Without a word, he dismissed himself from his father and older brother in favor of busying himself with other matters— like getting himself ready for bed. 

The red toothbrush was his; the whole color-coding fiasco, as childish as it had grown to be, was useful in keeping his and his brothers’ stuff from getting mixed up. If they hadn’t had been marked with the distinctive bright colors, Raph was sure than one or all of his brothers would have absently selected the wrong toothbrush in their rush to get the nightly routine over with. 

Raph started to clean his teeth. Then he gave a curious growl as his arm was ticked with a faint breeze. Wind was very rare this deep in the sewer, and Raph doubted that the old rat or steadfast fearless leader would be rushing enough to be creating a breeze. What then…? 

Raph’s attention was drawn beside him, to the closed shower curtain; it seemed it too had caught the breeze, as it was swaying just barely, rings clanking together. Raph put one hand on his sai as he cleared the distance to the tub with a single, long stride. A flash of green had him slamming the curtains open to reveal an empty bathtub.

Raph huffed, his lips curling up to flash canines as he shook his head. There was a slam, and several solid thud-like footsteps that faded away faster than Raph could turn around. The door was closed now, and in the process of bouncing back open.

“Oh hell no!” Raph slammed the door open completely with his shoulder, both hands planted firmly on his sai as he ran back down the hall. “No demon getting my ass today! LEO!”

“What?” Leo’s tone was sharper than he had intended, irritation so strong that it leaked out into the very words he spoke. Then, like it was popped with a needle, the storm clouds of worry poofing away at the sight of Raph, suds overflowing his mouth and toothbrush still hanging out of his lips. “Hey, hey— what’s up?”

“There was a damn demon in the bathroom!”

“What?” Leo narrowed his eyes slowly.

Splinter left Leo’s side in favor of venturing to the second son, raising a hand to stroke the bowed Raph’s cheek with a gentle paw. 

The lair was then filled with an alarm of incoming. Leo swore under his breath so his father couldn’t hear as he backed up and prepared for a dash to the weapon room. The voice that came down the tunnel seconds later was one familiar to him.

“Leo!” Donnie came around the corner just as Leo registered his brother's voice. “Leo Leo Leo Leo Leo—“

Donnie shuffled down the tunnel as quickly as he dared risk with the precious cargo in his arms. Six hundred pounds of dead weight was never easy to carry, and several times his footing had started to slip as he descended the sloping entrance. Raph and Leo were there quickly to take the burden off of their brother, Raph taking on the brunt of Mikey’s weight while Leo split his attention between both Mikey and Donnie. The worried father followed quickly, whiskers tickling Mikey’s neck while he weaved to avoid getting under his sons’ feet.

“What happened?” Leo demanded; he was supporting Mikey’s head while the groggy younger turtle tried to swipe him away, muttering some incoherence.

“I don’t know. We were taking pictures and he just shut down. He’s— he’s conscious but— but I don’t know.”

But Donnie did know. At least, he was almost sure he knew. The muscle spasm, the slurred speech, dazed look. The way Mikey was staring and the way he slumped and almost fell off of the roof. Donnie had a theory that clutched him like a cold claw but he knew better than to voice it until it was no longer just a theory, but a proven reality. They made it to the needle room. With Leo’s gentle guidance, he and Raph put Mikey down on the bed while Donnie scrambled to grab all the supplies he needed.

“Mm…” Mikey winced as Donnie held his eyelids open to assess the pupils. Mikey tried to pull away, his arm tensing as he made an attempt to lift it and further resist the exam, but it refused to listen. “Heavy…”

“I know Mike…” Donnie soothed gently, then quickly leaned over to Raph, “Keep him still if you can.”

Raph nodded and put his hands gently on Mikey’s shoulders, leaning in just enough weight to keep Mikey still while Donnie examined the right arm, massaging deft fingers across it. Mikey yelled and tried to sit up, but Raph was there to correct the attempt. He shushed his baby brother gently and leaned his head down to press his forehead to Mikey’s. After a moment, Mikey pressed back and gave a cluck of gratitude. Donne finished up his exam.

“How is he?” Splinter asked, looking up to his purple-clad son. In the black of the rat's eyes reflected worry for his youngest; he took Mikey’s hand in his own and kissed it to let Mikey know he was there. Mikey giggled and squeezed his father's hand in turn.

“He’s awake— that, that’s good right?” Leo asked urgently.

Donnie took a sharp breath through his nose. He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and let out an exasperated breath.

“Raph— could you get Mikey some water? He’s probably really thirsty.”

“O-oh— yeah.” Despite his agreement, Raph didn't immediately move away. He kept his head pressed against Mikey’s for several seconds longer before a touch on his shoulder made him naturally look up to acknowledge the second presence.

No words were exchanged between Donnie or Raph, the details in their eyes telling the other brother everything they needed to know. Donnie gave a soft chuff, but that was all. Raph left without looking back, because he knew if he did look back, he wouldn’t be able to leave. Get to the kitchen, get lemon water, and get back. That was his task and he repeated it multiple times over in his head before he had even reached the kitchen.

Tap water would be just fine, right? He had already filled up the glass before he shook his head and dumped out the glass. No, his brother deserved better. The water filter was broken yet again as another example of the ‘machines hating Leo’ situation that was a constant in their life. First it was the toaster, and now it was like almost every kitchen appliance fearless touched rejected him. He was still adamant that Donnie must have programmed it to always happen. Raph laughed and shook his head as various examples of the struggle between turtle and machine came to his mind. A bottled water would do just fine. He poured half of it into a dense mug, then added ice because he knew how Mikey loved the crunch. He got the lemons last; this was his kitchen, his space, so he knew exactly where to find the fruit and the knife appropriate to cut with.

Raph added half of the slices; instead of just throwing the other half of the sour fruit away, he simply tossed it into his mouth and ate it whole. Bitter as it was, food was still food, and he refused to waste one bit of it. Another rush of wind tickled Raph’s carapace, but to the turtle it was like being hit with a brick. Especially when he saw the specter appear behind him, hurrying past the kitchen door with a steady clank clank clank of heavy footsteps. Raph swore loudly, rushing to place the water on the counter and free his hands up to grab his sai. Whatever that thing was, no way it could be left wandering the lair with his little brother hurt! Not if he had anything to say about it, and he did.

He pursued the distant steps, his strides long enough to close the distance in enough time to see the curtains that sectioned off Donnie’s lab flutter. 

“Got you now you little—” Raph yanked the curtains open, flashing his weapons in a threat against—!

Nothing. There was nothing there. There was no spot in Donnie’s lab that could hide anyone of any significant size, but maybe if the intruder was small…? That was the only explanation because Donnie’s lab was tucked into a corner and there would have been no way for the stranger to escape without Raph seeing him. Raph started to look in every nook and cranny that held the possibility of hiding someone. Under desks, behind machines, behind the monitors. Whatever it was had disappeared into thin air! Or maybe…

Raph found his eyes drifting to a particular artifact on Donnie’s shelf; an M-shaped medallion with a cross through the middle of it, glistening gold and orange. A fiberglass casing protected the special gift from their counterparts that they had yet to use. The past two years had been very eventful, and it was with a heavy sigh Raph realized that, with all the visits their counterparts had made to see them, they had yet to return the favor and visit the other world. Even after going so long without a visit from their other selves, Leo had still denied every request to visit them instead. Raph felt a weight in his throat. He missed his friends, and he hoped they were okay. It had been six months with no word from them…

“Raph?” Leo’s sharp words cut through Raph’s somber thoughts. Raph looked over his shoulder to see Leo come into the lab, nostrils flaring his frustration as he confronted his brother. “What are you doing in here?”

“I… I was just…” Raph didn't know how to explain it, so his words fell short. He half-motioned over to the pendant gift, and then around at the lab. 

Leo sighed and shook his head. “You were supposed to be getting water for Mikey. Come on.”

Raph wanted to think of a snarky remark, but nothing came to mind as he followed Leo out of the lab.

Hi can you write a fic about dad!jake because there’s not a lot of them on here (if u want) and plus your writing is amazing hands down one of the best jake blogs on here ♥️

i do agree, there is a cruel lack of dad!jake. it’s so unfortunate! i mean, he looks like uncle goals and he would make the best dad in the entire world! thank you so so so so so much anon! you have no idea how happy your kind words make me! you didn’t give any specific setting so i went for the ultimate softness! just because i love naming characters, let me introduce you to toddler (ish) rose gyllenhaal! EXTRAS: i suggest you listen to the cinematic orchestra’s to build a home to get in the same mindset as i was while writing this. i found the gif on google image and couldn’t find the original creator, i’m sorry! WARNINGS: none except i don’t know how kids act and like what they are except very strange creatures so i’m so sorry if my awkwardness is showing through this fic! i hope you, and everyone reading this, will enjoy it! ( 1500 words)

BUILD A BEAR

“Teddy Bear!” Your daughter pointed, her head and arm peeking from the pillow fort you helped her build in your living room. “Big Teddy Bear!” She pointed at her father.

You chuckled, realizing that Jake has returned from running errands.

“You learned new words? I’m very proud of you, sweetheart!” Jake frowned, confused, as he planted a kiss on your forehead, then your daughter’s. Proud was an understatement. He would brag about how smart your daughter was at the simplest thing. Whether she fed herself without making a mess, drew an absolute chaotic art piece with her crayons or found her way to snuggle up in her parents’ bed despite being told not to, he was so proud. She amazed him.

It amazed him how she looked exactly like the two of you combined. She had his piercing blue eyes, but they had your shape, soft and cheerful. She had a bright smile like him. She had your button nose. She had that little curl in her hair that resembled yours. A bad encounter with the coffee table during a tickling session left her with a tiny scar on her chin, which looked exactly like one of Jake’s shaving accidents when he was young and innocent.

It amazed him how fast time flew by. Not even yesterday, the two of you were hearing her first cry and hugging her for the first time. It amazed him how much love he had to give this bundle of joy, while he believed he could never love someone or something as much as he loved you.

Rose repeated the nickname again and again. Maybe it was her new obsession. Last week, she tasted her very first lemon and kept screaming lemon all the time. Quite the learning experience, she had her father’s vocal chords that was for sure.

Jake shrugged it off and brought the mail to the kitchen table. He did not bother taking off his jacket, he kneeled with the two of you. He opened his legs and arms, hoping Rose would crawl and sit with him, but she just laughed and pointed at his face again. “Bear, Daddy is a bear!”

It finally hit you and you brust into laughter, leaving Jake in his confusion.

Rose pretended that her fingers were scissors and she mimicked the snip snip sound as she ran her little hand around Jake’s beard.

“She thinks you look like a bear.” You, too, brought your hand to Jake’s face and you stroked it lovingly. Rose agreed by nodding her head frantically. “You know, with the beard.”

“That’s not nice! I’m not a bear!” Jake pouted and pretended to be sad, which resulted in your daughter covering his face with kisses.

“No sad Daddy, I love my teddy bear!” She hugged him tight and Jake widened his eyes. He mouthed that she didn’t have a teddy bear and suddenly this looked like the biggest emergency in the world.

He scooped her up like she was as light as a feather, pulling out the cutest giggles out of her tiny body. “Get in, sweetheart, we’re going shopping!”

You told Jake you preferred to stay at home and clean around the house. He insisted he would prefer to have his princesses with him, but you gave him a wink. He was quicker to understand it meant you were clearing their evening schedule for something more entertaining than laundry, baby food making and bento box lunches binge watching.

So Jake got the little toddler ready. He let her pick her hat, her scarf and her mittens while he put on her boots. She usually hated that part, but he had this magic trick of singing a silly tune as he did so. It made her want to sing too, and forget about the heartbreaking moment her feet leave her favourite slippers. She opted for teal mittens, an orange hat with a pink pompom and a purple scarf with stripes. “She’s New York Fashion Week ready!”

You laughed, kissing them good bye.

*~*~*

Jake drove to the nearest mall and carried Rose over his shoulder until they reached the door of the shopping center.

“Where are we going?” She kept asking, from the moment she was in the car to now, when Jake was all scrunched over to hold her tiny hand.

“It’s a surprise, Rosie!”

“I love surprises!”

He made the walk to the Build a Bear store fun. He went to grab a muffin from a food stand and shared it with her, washing her hands so she would not stick them every where. He even stopped by a clothing store, taking notes of the pieces she liked from the front windows so he could get her new outfits. And when they finally made it to the store... She was running and dragging Jake along. He was surprised by her strength, but he really should not be. Ever since she was a baby she was strong like the Hulk, or like her mother. He liked to think she got it from you, his super woman with super strength and super everything.

“You can pick one, okay? And we’ll bring it to life together! Poof!” He added sounds to his explanations, catching her attention.

Rosie was impossible to control. She ran from one corner to the other, apologizing adorably when she bumped into a friendly employee. She would pick up a giraffe, no a cat, no, a dog, no, a dragon... Honestly Jake wanted to buy them all. He was aware the mall was closing soon, and he knew better than to torture these poor employees with an excited child who skipped her nap and would crash at any moment (or well, she would when he would stop giving her M&Ms to buy her concentration).

She finally made up her mind on a light golden bear. It came with a flower on its ear and pink paws. “It’s perfect, just like you!” Jake exclaimed and booped her nose. He let the employees teach Rose how to fill the plushie with stuffing until it was the best cuddle buddy in the world.

“How should we name her?”

“Jake!”

He shook his head, trying not to be insulted by the fact she still associated bears with him.

“No!” She listed possibly fifteen names that made less and less sense and gave the employees a headache.

Rose pulled on Jake’s pants, asking him to come down to her level, which he did. “What is Mommy’s favourite flower?” She asked and he answered.

“Daisy!” They both said in sync. It was a perfect name, because the bear had a daisy on it and Jake and you really had this flower theme going on. You, in fact, hesitated between so many flower names for your kid.

“Let’s show Mom your new friend!”

*~*~*

Jake managed to spend the entire car ride without a cry, a scream or a word of complaint until he accidentally woke Rose up from her nap by picking her up. She was tired and fussy. It was dinner time, but you and Jake decided it was better if she slept a bit more before. Your plans for the evening got bumped to tomorrow, but you could not care any less. Rose and Daisy were the new partners in crime and they were too adorable to resist.

“I have another idea!” Jake announced and set Rose down on the couch, inviting you to do the same. He disappeared in the laundry room, where he threw a soft blanket in the dryer with a dryer sheet. He then ran to the kitchen and prepared a platter of hot chocolate. He made sure that Rose’s was just warm enough and he placed a big marshmallow on it. He set the platter down and left again, only to come back with a warm blanket.

He turned on the television to play Frozen and sat on the couch with Rose in between the two of you. Your bodies were wrapped in a coccoon of warmth. And your heart felt the same. Rose quickly fell asleep, she did not even make it to the pat where Olaf appeared, and it was her favourite moment. She snored lightly, clutching on Daisy.

Your head was resting on Jake’s shoulder and you looked up to him.

If somebody told you a couple of years ago that you would live a life like this, you would have never believed it.

You have a beautiful house to live in. A job you love that allowed you as much family time as you wanted. A significant other that was nothing less than your soulmate. And you had this precious soul sleeping soundly with her mouth covered with hot cocoa.

You took a deep breath and Jake stared back into your eyes. The silence said it all.

You wanted nothing more in life than this: the taste of hot chocolate, your child being so peaceful and happy, Jake’s content face lighting up the evening sky and this never ending smell of fresh laundry. Your family was like a basket of clean laundry. So warm, so satisfying, so comforting.

Jake built Rose a bear.

And Jake, Rose and you built a home.

Painted Shell (Mikey x Reader)

My insomnia kept me up last night, so I took the opportunity to think about new short stories. And, heck, I rarely write for Mikey. WHAT A SHAME. Here’s something cute~ Sorry it’s short.

Reader is gender neutral :)

Being friends with Mikey was never a dull affair. He always had something in mind, may it be a joke, an idea for an activity, a compliment, anything! He always brought a bit of sunshine into your day and for that you could only be forever grateful...

Months and months of friendship could only slowly blossom into hidden feelings. Mikey was a flirt by nature, but something was different with you. He wanted to be patient, he wanted to be careful, and especially be there for you. Getting involved into any aspects of your life, as well as you being in his, just meant so much... Of course he couldn’t help falling in love with you!

As for you, diving into those sentiments seemed like an immense task. You obviously felt attraction as well, but as to how to declare your feelings - that’s where you didn’t know how to cross that line.

That is, until you arrived to the Lair one night and saw the perfect opportunity: a blank canvas, a freshly washed shell!

Michelangelo and his brothers liked to paint designs and kanjis on their shells, but those would be short lived as a shower and a good scrub would erase any traces of their art.

“Your shell’s pattern is so nice,” you complimented, walking up behind him and carefully tracing a finger over some plates.

“Thanks, I grew it myself!” said the turtle with a smile.

“No doubt about it, judging by how good it looks.”

His amused chuckle could only make you smile, giving you enough strength to put your plan in motion.

“Hey, would you mind if I painted something on it? ... I’ve always wanted to try.”

His features brigthened as he turned to face you.

“Are you kidding! Of course I wouldn’t mind!” He grabbed your hand, already making way to his room. “I’ve got all the stuff you’d need. Let’s get started!”

How could you ever expect a negative answer from him, anyway? Your heart was thumping loudly, suddenly on a cloud and feeling nervous, although your smile never left your lips.

His room could seem chaotic to some, but for you it was a treasure cove. From collections of various objects to displays of memorabilias, he had everything for anyone’s taste. He was also the keeper of brushes and paint buckets, as he was the auto-proclaimed artist of the family.

“Any colors you want in particular?” he asked, already gathering the needed tools. “I’m really not picky!”

Your thoughts run a mile an hour, trying to come up with something.

“Uhm, maybe some orange, blue, pink, and white?”

“Sounds promising! Let’s get this masterpiece started.”

As you were handed the needed materials, the terrapin next laid on the floor on his stomach, giving you full access to his back. Carefully planning your future strokes, your hand was slightly shaking from excitement up until your brush did its first lick on the mutant’s shell.

You had a specific message in mind you wanted to write, but didn’t want Mikey to guess it right away. So, for every letters you finished painting, you switched colors and added some symbols and drawings here and there all around. You wanted it to be bright and colorful, just as he was...

The turtle kept quiet all the while, only humming by moments as the strokes felt nice against his shell. The relaxation almost brought him to nap, but at the same time he wanted to fully savor this moment. You were so focused and careful, your touch always feeling nice to him.

The final details were put and you stood silent, observing your work. In that moment, the stress had faded away, assured that what you did was the right thing...

“I think it’s over now,” you mumbled, still looking over some details, cocking your head to one side and then the other.

Mikey’s eyes fell on you, eager: “What did you paint?”

You smiled sweetly, extending your hand towards him.

“Hand me your phone, I’ll take a pic to show you.”

He easily did so, the camera turned on. As you took the shot when the turtle was back on his feet, you slightly hesitated to give it back. A slight wince showed on your traits, finally handing the phone to him.

“... I’m sorry if you hate it. We can always wash it off...”

“Nah I’m sure it looks grea-”

His sentence died as he finally looked at the photo. Three words were boldly painted on his shell.

I Love You

Surrounding them were various symbols; hearts, stars, spirals, anything that crossed your mind at that moment. It was colorful and bright, a will to this friendship that was now blooming into something more.

“Is ... is it true?”

His voice brought you back to your sense, your gaze now plunged in this baby blue heaven. You smiled shyly, your hands and fingers carefully fiddling together.

“Yes... but if you don’t feel the same, I’d understand.”

He was silent, still processing it all. The weight of the wait was too much for you, sighing in small panic.

“Look, I’m sorry. Let’s go wash it off and forget I did th-”

“Are you crazy?! I’m never washing that shell again! I love it! I- ... I love you.” he cut.

Your breath got stuck in your troath, your eyes probably as wide as saucers. 

“I’m so glad you feel the same,” continued Mikey, his tone now calm and sweet. He tenderly got a hold of your hands. “You mean the world to me...,” he ended, bringing them to his lips and leaving a soft kiss on your skin.

You thought you’d melt on the spot. Instead you prefered to get closer, your arms carefully hooking around his neck in order to hug him. As fear was washed away, both of you were now smiling, basking in eachother’s glowing presence. After a while though, Mikey dared to ask:

“... Can I paint the same thing on your back?”

“Absolutely,” you answered with a small laugh.

A Price We Pay (OC Story)

Over on Instagram, I'm sharing some characters I made. A lot of people seemed to like my OC Scarlet so I asked if people wanted to read the story I wort over the summer. Some said yes so I'm just going to post it here.

This has nothing to do with Kotlc. You can just ingore this. My writing is awful anyway :).

Warning: mention of death and blood.

Scarlet’s midnight blue hair fell over her light chocolate-colored eyes. She stared at her hands, not knowing what to do. Maxseen was everything to her. She was Scarlet’s world.

Max has been there for Scarlet through her ups and downs. She always did everything in her power to make Scarlet smile. No matter the problem, Max was there for Scarlet. She just wished she could do the same for her.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Heart, there’s nothing else I can do for her.” The doctor looked at her with saddened eyes. From the sidelines, you’d think the emotions in his eyes were real, but Scarlet could look deep into the dark forest green and see nothing but cold stone. He wasn’t sad about Max; She was just another one of his patients. It was just his job. He didn’t care about Max. “Our best bet is that Miss. Willow will pass by the end of the week.”

“Liar!” Scarlet snapped; she gripped her hands into fists, trying to keep from fully lashing out at the doctor. “There’s something you haven’t done yet!”

“Miss-”

“Your job is supposed to be keeping people alive!” She cut him off. “So do your job!”

“We’ve done all we could to help Miss. Willow, but her health is falling faster every day.”

Tears pricked the corners of Scarlet’s eyes.

The silence was deafening., it rang in her ears, leaving her stuck in her thoughts. The soft beep of the machines was starting to irritate Scarlet as it added to the ringing. From time to time, she could hear a whisper behind the door, though she could never make out any words.

The off-white room felt too bright agest Scarlet’s eyes. The walls threatened to close in on her if she made any movement. The light blue curtains waved softly in the air as the breeze swept by the open window. There was one annoying light that would slightly flicker every 30 seconds. Through her tear-blurred vision, she could see Max’s chest gently rise and fall under the thin white sheets.

Her chair was uncomfortable, despite the soft cushion. Cold wrapped itself around Scarlet, reaching deep under her skin and clutching her heart in a frozen fist. It sent tiny, thin shards of ice into it for every beet. Her light, gray jacket no longer felt soft on her shoulders. Instead, it had turned into a ruff, heavy stone, pulling her down.

The burning smell of medicine, bleach, and too much hand sanitizer put a metallic bio taste on Scarlet’s tongue, leaving her stomach to turn.

Max’s amber-brown hair pooled around her ever-growing pale cheeks. Her blue hospital gown against the white bedsheets was starting to become offensive to Scarlet. She uses to love the color blue. Max’s eyes were a bright shade of ocean blue that was a deep swell of emotions. But now Scarlet could no longer see the blue she had fallen for, and she feared she might never see them again.

Max laid still, her eyes closed and breathing hard to notice unless you looked long enough. Tubes ran along her skin, each having a different job to play. One keeps oxygen moving in and out of her lungs. One slowly dripping random fluids into her body. The rest of the tubes did something that Scarlet didn’t quite know what.

Maxseen was a husk of what she used to be. She no longer ran around pulling pranks and laughing with her friends. She no longer told Scarlet of her daydreams or her plans for her future. She no longer pulled funny faces with her little brother and mom. Max no longer hugged Scarlet tight.

A tear landed on Scarlet’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. She was going to lose Max; she was going to be alone again. Her dad was right; she’ll never have someone to love.

“Shhh,” A woman gently stroked a young Scarlets hair. “It’s ok; you’re safe. Nothing can hurt you,” she whispered. Her voice was sweet like honey and smooth as glass. It held so much love and kindness with every syllable.

Scarlet sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, “It was horrible, mom. It was dark and scary. I couldn’t find you… I was alone.”

“Oh my sweet child, you are never alone, and it was only a bad dream.” She started to braid Scarlet’s hair, something that always calmed her down. “Do you remember that story I told you when you were a little older than a baby?”

“The one about the dragon that can grant you a wish? I remember a little.”

The woman hummed in thought, “She lives in a cave lined with glowing crystals, found beep in the Forbidden Forest. Her short fur is a shining black that sparkles in the faint light of the crystals. Her eyes are bright firey-orange. When she looks at you, she looks deep into your eyes.”

“The eyes are the gateway to the soul,” Scarlet whispered. Her mom tickled Scarlet, causing her to giggle.

“Correct.” She poked Scarlet’s nose with a light feathery touch. “She looks into your soul.” She leaned back against the bed and looked thoughtfully at the shadowy ceiling. “Her claws are said to be so sharp they can cut through the toughest stone with ease. Her fires-breath is hotter than a hundred suns; you can feel the warmth of her firey heart when standing in the cave.

“Deep in her cave where the light can’t reach is where she sleeps with all her treasures; the crystals fill her dreams of young children’s wishes.”

“Everyone says dragons aren’t real.”

“Our world has grown disconnected from dragons. It’s been thousands of years since people have seen one. The stories we hear about the giant creatures have grown old and thrown around with fake stories. It had become difficult for people to tell which stories are true, so we labeled all their stories as myths and legends.

“People stopped believing.”

“Is your story true?” Scarlet looked up at her mother.

“Of course, my dear. Every word is true.”

“Really?” Scarlet’s eyes light up with wonder. “If it’s true, why don’t people try and find the dragon?”

“The forest is a dangerous place. It’s full of creatures that can kill in a heartbeat. The tall twisting trees block out all the sun’s light and warmth, leaving it in cold darkness that is more shaded than night. The trees shift and change, turning the forest into an endless maze. No one dares to step foot into the forest.”

“Then how does the dragon have people’s wishes come true.”

“Only the bravest can make it through the twisting maze of trees and make it through the dangers that lay deep inside. But be warned; the dragon doesn’t take kindly to strangers. She’ll searcher your heart to find if your intentions for her magic are good or bad. If she finds your heart is black and bitter, she’ll not hesitate to kill you.”

“How do you know all of this, mom?”

“I’ve seen her.”

Scarlet’s eyes opened as the sun reached through the half-closed blinds. The sun’s golden rays illuminate the small room in an orange-yellow glow.

Another one of those dreams. Scarlet has had them a lot since Maxseen got sick.

Just another reminder that Scarlet loses everyone that comes into her life.

Her dad left when she was four, her mom went missing when she was 16, and now Max would most likely leave her too.

But this dream wasn’t like the others. They always had Scarlet’s mom in them, happy memories of the two laughing with each other, cooking, playing some kind of game, just her and her mom when times were easy when she wasn't afraid of what could happen tomorrow.

She’s never had a dream about her mom telling her the story about the dragon. Her mother used to tell Scarlet that story when she was afraid of what was in the shadows or under her bed.

“Maybe if you wish hard enough, the crystals will fill her dreams of your wishes. Maybe she’ll hear it and help you make them come true.” her mother brushed a strand of hair behind Scarlet’s ear.

“You think so?”

“Wish with all your heart, my dear, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll give you your wish.”

After losing her mother and everyone saying she wasn’t going to come back, Scarlet had given up on believing and wishing. She didn’t have a reason to. Her wishes would never come true; there was no point in believing stories her mother would tell her. Scarlet just went on with life, trying to survive, making it to another day.

And then she met Maxseen. Her kind blue eyes warmed Scarlet’s heart. Max’s smile filled her life with color again. Max gave Scarlet a reason to wish, a reason to believe. She became the reason Scarlet lived more than to survive. Max was the reason that Scarlet laugh, smiled, cried. She was the reason she loved.

Scarlet can’t lose that.

Max can’t lose her chance to do all she wanted to do in her life.

Scarlet sat up with a jolt. The dragon could be what saves Max.

It was a far-fetched chance that Scarlet could even find a dragon, and it was an even farther-fetched chance that her mother’s story could be true. But this could be the last thing that could help save Maxseen.

And Scarlet was going to take that chance.

So there Scarlet stood, at the edge of the blackened forest. The sun was at its highest peak. Warmth hugged the land the sun’s light landed upon.

But the light and warmth seemed to fear away from the old creaking trees. Not even a foot deep into the forest, the light thinned, leaving barely enough light to see what was in front of you.

Do not enter.

Warning dangers.

Those who go in don’t come out.

Bright, eye-catching, yellow signs hung on the spiked, bobwire fence, warning people to stay away. The thick wire reached high into the vast blue heavens, keeping people out and keep in whatever lay among the shadows.

Scarlet breathed in deeply, trying to steady her fear-struck heart. The warning of what laid in the Forbidden Forest raced through Scarlet’s mind. She stepped back when a low howl sounded through the alley of trees.

Finding the dragon, going into the forest, is the last chance to keep Maxseen alive.

She clasped her hands into tight fists and pushed the fear down. If she was going to do this, she had to do it now. Max didn’t have very long. Scarlet can’t keep wasting time on her fears.

The wires snapped as Scarlet cut a hole in the fence, just big enough for her to slip in. Once she had worked up the courage to move past the wires, she could feel a freezing wind sink deep into her skin, putting the uneasy feeling back in the pit of Scarlet’s stomach.

The trees groaned and creaked as they stretched up to the sun. They used their leaves to block out the earth’s closest star’s warmth and comforting light. All the colors the world should have painted the earth were dull, dark, and dead. The trees weren’t like the one Scarlet would sit under on a warm summer day with all her friends. Instead, the tree’s bark was a muddy grey-brown, and their leaves were far from the vibrant green, but instead, were a nightmarish black.

With the sun blocked, Scarlet had lost track of how long she had been walking. The fear and the feeling of eyes following her grew with each step.

From time to time, she could hear a faint growl of a wolf or a twig snapping in the distance. The trees sounded like they were crying and screaming, their branches reaching out to Scarlet, begging for help. No birds sang their cheerful songs among the trees. The eerie atmosphere began to play tricks on Scarlet’s mind, leaving her to wonder what sounds were real.

She started to smell blood and rotting flesh the farther she ventured into the twisting ocean of trees. She wrinkled her nose, the smell only getting stronger every second. Awful odor after odor filled her senses, making her skull start to drum against her head.

Her mouth had gone dry minutes ago—a disgusting bio taste laid on her tongue. The taste and smell made her gag as her stomach spun.

Finding the dragon, going through this forest, is the last chance to keep Maxseen alive.

She remembers when she had asked her mother about the forest. Her mom had gone mute; her soft gray eye’s sad as they watch Scarlet. She had used only a few words before ushering her daughter outside to play.

Dark,

Paranormal,

Dangerous,

Timeless.

Scarlet didn’t know what her mother had meant by timeless. How could something be timeless?

She understood what she meant now.

Everything in the forest seemed frozen in time when you looked straight at it. But out of the corner of your eye, you could spot something move among the trees. You could feel something reach out to you. When you spin around to see what was following you, everything will go still like an old photograph.

You’ll lose track of how long you’ve been in the twist. Your mind would start to panic as it tried to decide if it’s been a second, minutes, hours, or days. Light didn’t move in the forest, leaving it to feel like you’re stuck in an infinite night of nightmares.

Scarlet jumped and yelped as a strong howl of a nearby wolf echoed through the trees. Her fight or flite kicked in, sending her running in the opposite directions of the cry.

As much as she wished she’d jump into a fighting stance when things got too much, she had always been one to run from her problems and fears.

The pounding of her feet against the ground woke bats that hid among the dead leaves. They sprung from their branches, startling Scarlet to run faster.

Her heart crashed against her rib cage as the fears following her shaded her sight. The world became a blur; the trees blended, blurring the narrow view she had. Barking rang in her ears as the crunching of fallen leaves stalked close behind her.

Scarlet peeped back; the silhouettes of monstrous wolves trailed only a foot away. They snarled, snapped, and barked, moving closer.

Scarlet tripped.

A tree branch reached out and wrapped its self around her leg. She slammed into the ground with a firm thud. Pain ricocheted through her head as it hit a rock. Her vision blanked as ringing washed over her. She tensed her muscles and curled in on herself.

An earth ratting roar filled the air. Scarlet had snapped her eyes open, seeing the wolf-shaped shadows whimper and scurry off.

Scarlet looked behind her to see what had terrified the pack. A mysterious void was all Scarlet met with; pain set back into her skull, causing her to wince. Slowly she reached up and pressed her hand against the side of her head. Her shivering hand was meet with something warm and sticky. She pulled her hand away, finding it covered in dark red.

“Aw.” She hissed.

The branch that wrapped around her leg started to wind itself up her thigh. Scarlet yelled, kicking at it. “Get off! Get off!” The branched snapped, it recoiled back to its spot at the tree’s side. The dead oak let out a screeching cry.

Scarlet backed aways as the forest joined the tree’s ear-piercing wells. They grew louder with every new cry. She covered her ears as the screams added to her growing headache.

A glow filled her vision. All at once, the trees went quiet. Slowly Scarlet turned towards the source of the light. The deep black void now was bright with crystals that glittered with a soft, comforting cold-purple. Scarlet’s breath caught in her throat.

“She lives in a cave lined with glowing crystals.”

She tensed and relaxed her hands in a fist, a weak attempt to slow her racing heart.

The jewels filled the gray-stone wall. Their light reached out, pulling Scarlet closer to the cave. The closer she got, the brighter the crystals shone, beckoning for her to go deeper.

Her legs moved on their own, steering her into the cave. The glowing of the crystals followed her deep into the hole. The light jumped from crystals to crystals, leaving the entrance of the cave dark and secretive.

The jewels flickered as they whispered into the cave’s thin air. If Scarlet listened to one closely, she could faintly hear laughter and wishes from little children, warming Scarlet’s heart. But there also was the feeling of sorrow.

She couldn’t help but think that those kids would lose their hope, their laughter, and their wishes as they grew older and the faults of the world sunk in. They’d grow up and find that the world wasn’t all the wonders they see it as. They’d get older and stop believing in fairy tales and wishes coming true.

Just like Scarlet.

Those thoughts filled her heart with aching pain.

Her mother and Maxseen have grown up to still believe in those stories, believe that wishes

could come true. They have still seen the world in its magic and color as they got older, as time started to settle on them and show that things where’t like they always seemed. But they had

chosen to believe, to see the good and beauty in everything around them.

Scarlet’s mother had lost that the last time she’d looked into her gray eyes. They had seemed lifeless. They had no longer had the shimmer of love in them; they were dull, like the Forbidden Forest. She kissed Scarlet’s forehead with a light touch, lingering there for longer than her soft kisses would. She said she loves Scarlet more than anything and then left, taking Scarlet’s wonder for the world with her.

Maxseen still had that sparkle in her eyes. She had given a little bit of her wonder and love to Scarlet, helping her see the world as Max did.

Scarlet wasn’t going to let another person lose that.

She pushed herself to keep going deeper into the dark. The crystals lighting the path with every step she made.

A comforting warmth like a summer sun pushed the icy cold from the forest away, hugging Scarlet gently, putting her fears to rest, and letting a hopeful feeling run through her veins.

The ground began to shake, and the crystals went black; the whispers of wishes and glimmer of hope gone. A low growl shook the pit of Scarlet’s stomach. She stepped back when the earth shook. A pair of red-orange cat-like eyes shone in the pitch-black.

They looked into Scarlet’s heart. They didn’t have the same comforting feeling as the crystals. They felt like a stone, cold and hard. The eyes narrowed as they studied Scarlet. The sense of burning shards stabbed into her chest.

Her mind began to tell her to run, that it was dangerous. The fear returned, and her legs begged to leave, but the sharp eyes kept her glued to the ground.

Her breathing picked up, leaving her to shake. She couldn’t hear anything but the beating of her panicked heart. Her throat clogged with screams that never made it past her lips.

The smell of burning fire filled the cave as smoke emerged from the darkness.

A taste of ash lingered on her tongue.

The eyes shifted higher. The crystals snapped back to life, allowing Scarlet to see the owner of the eyes.

Fur darker than the deepest parts of space sparkled like the jewels lining the walls cast their light, making it feel like Scarlet was gazing into space and seeing countless stars dance, laugh, and sing. Wings stretched out and beat; they sent a cool breeze through Scarlet’s hair, and she could hear the strength they held. The underside of the wings’ spikes, horns, and claws were a blend of a sunset. Her talons looked sharper than a sword as they dug into the ground, leaving a scar in the hard stone. Scarlet fell back, her voice trapped in her throat as she stared dumbfounded at the creature before her. Her mind raced with questions trying to find an explanation for what she was seeing.

Part of her was relieved she had found what she had been looking for, but the other haft couldn’t help but think that this was a dream. That when she had hit her head, she passed out.

Her mind raced, trying to find a reason for the thing in front of her. Dragons aren’t real. The stories about the giant fantasy creatures were nothing more than, well, fantasy.

Right?

But this couldn’t be a dream. Scarlet felt the heat from the dragon’s heart, hidden in her chest. Scarlet could feel the slight pinch in her palm as she tightened her hands into a tight grip, digging her nails into her skin. Scarlet could smell the strong scent of smoke that emerged from the dragon’s breath. She could still feel the pounding from when she hit her head outside the cave.

Everything felt too real to be a dream.

She knows how to tell if it was a dream. Before Scarlet met Maxseen, she studied and learned how to lucid dream. She liked the feeling of having control of her fears. Going her whole life, having things go south out of nowhere took its toll on her. So being able to go into a world where she could control her surroundings was something she craved.

Everything about the cave, the crystals, the dragon were too real to be a dream.

A roar raddled the floor, dragging Scarlet out of her thoughts. She looked up, meeting the dragon’s eyes, the cold feeling setting in her chest again. The creature lowered her head closer to Scarlet, giving her a better view of her eyes.

They held power and strength that left them feeling frozen and blocked off, unlike the warm fire the iris’ held. Just a bit farther into the eyes was strength and wisdom; They held more than a thousand years of living. The sparkes of knowledge showed how much the dragon had seen and learned over her long years. Showen all the good and evil she had witnessed through the ages. Battles after battles, the carefree laughter of little kids that explored the world shown as nothing but a bright candy land of wonder and the pain of loss.

Hidden in the deeps corners of her eyes, Scarlet could see the caring, kind, loving gaze of a mother, close to the same soft look that Scarlet’s mom had. In the mix of love, there was the sadness of someone who had lost so much. Her eyes looked exhausted from her long life.

The stern look on the surface shielded the raw emotions that the monster’s eyes carried. It acted as a wall, blocking out the world to keep her safe.

A similar wall Scarlet had.

She growled again, quieter than the others. It rumbled out of the dragon’s throat, giving the sign that she was waiting for Scarlet to speak. To tell her reasoning for being in the cave.

She had been quiet for too long. She had stared at the beast longer than she should have, and she could see the inpatient manner growing in the dragon’s body language.

Scarlet moved her weight from one foot to the other and forced herself to stand taller. Forced the fear in her mind to fall into the dark. She cleared her throat and willed it to be strong; she took a deep breath, “My name is Scarlet Heart; I’m trying to find the dragon that can grant my wish.”

The dragon narrowed her eyes. Her wings shifted against her back. “It’s been a while since someone has found this cave.”

Scarlet expected her voice to be clear and powerful, able to crack the ground if she’d so wished. But the dragon’s voice was soft and sweet, a honeysuckle sort of sound.

She moved to lay down. The sparkles in her fur stirred and shimmered with the movement. She crossed her front paws in a regal-type manner. “I thought humans stopped believing in wishes and creatures like me. I’m curious, how did you find my cave?”

“My mother.” Scarlet’s voice turned quiet. The years of living without her mother, Scarlet hadn’t honestly talked of the woman that raised her. She tended to keep withdrawn about her memories of her mom. “She’d tell me stories about you.”

The dragon tilted her head to the side like a curious puppy. “Your mother told you stories?”

Scarlet nodded, her nerves increasing. She spun a thin strand of hair around her finger needing something to do other than stand there. “You,” she paused when her voice quivered, “you are the dragon that can help me, right?”

“I can help give you your wish.” the dragon nodded in the reassurance that Scarlet had found what she had been seeking. “But for you get your wish, there will be a price.”

Scarlet felt her heart sink. “I didn’t bring anything to trade.” she held her hands out at her side, a gesture that she had come to the cave empty-handed. Her mother didn’t tell her the dragon would want something in return.

She should have known that. Asking for something from a creature the world viewed as myth and fantasy was bound to ask for something in return.

But what would a being as old as this dragon want? The dragon’s cave went deep into the earth, where the light didn’t travel, where she hid her jewels, golds, and silvers she had collected over her eternal life. Even if Scarlet had brought something, it would most likely be nothing but a scrap of junk to the shining beast. Nothing of good trade.

Had she wasted her time? Wasted the time she could have spent with Max? Risked her life in the dangerous forest for nothing?

“Oh no,” the dragon shook her head, the bright sunset colors of her horns and the sparkles in her fur shifting into a dance of magic from the single movement. “The payment isn’t for me. I don’t give any wishes. I help the magic that makes it come true. The crystals that line my cave hold power to give people what they desire most. They choose the price.

“I move that magic held in crystals out into the world where they’re able to give you what you want.

“If the crystals decide that your wish is worth giving, then they provide me the ability to help you. They’ll let me know what the price of your wish is.”

“So, what would it take for me to have my wish come true?” Scarlet pulled at the sleeve of her shirt.

“It depends on your wish.” She stretched out a paw and tapped one of the jewels lining the walls with a delicate touch. “I don’t know for sure what any of the prices will be. A wish someone asked for was for her to have a child. Her price; she’d live for a hundred years, longer than a human life span, before she could bear a child. Once the kid turned 16, she’d have to return to the forest and pass away alone.”

Scarlet listened silently to the dragon’s story as she viewed the crystal’s whispers of secrets.

“What would your wish be?” She turned to face Scarlet again and waited for her to speak with a look daring Scarlet to request her wish.

The attention made Scarlet feel small, making her pull tighter on her sleeve. She shut her eyes as she gathered her thoughts. “It’s my-,” she bit her lower lip out of fear. Would this be worth it? If that mother didn’t get the chance to watch her child fully mature, would the price for Scarlet’s wish be worth the risk?

She shook her head. What was she thinking? Max did everything she could for Scarlet, for anyone that entered the girl’s life. Max would make people smile. She’d sit with strangers if she saw they were having a bad day. Maxseen was the most caring person Scarlet knew. Whatever the price was, it would be worth it. It was worth it for Maxseen.

So she opened her eyes, a new spark of determination giving her the strength to look the dragon in the eye. “It’s my friend. She’s sick, has been for a long time. The doctors say she only has a few days left to live. I want to wish her better. I want,” she stopped to think over her words, “I need her to get better. To live a full, healthy life.”

The dragon shut her eyes, covering the glowing orange from the world, “You’re asking for a wish that changes someone’s fate, Scarlet.” She shifted down to her eye level. “Do you know how much that’s going to cost you?

“Changing the fate of someone is a big deal. What the crystals want in return for your wish; You’ll have to give away part of your human form. They’re asking you to become a dragon-spawn; haft human haft dragon. Meaning you’ll become part of the forest. You’ll never be allowed to leave this place. Never be allowed to see your friend again.”

Her shoulders sagged as the dragon’s information filled the cave’s walls. The whole point of this was so she wouldn’t lose Max. If she agreed to the terms of the wish, Scarlet would become stuck in the frightful forest.

Tears weld up in the corners of her light chocolate eyes. Her father’s words overflowing in her thoughts. “You’ll always be alone. You’ll never have anyone to love you.”

But the thought of Maxseen’s family finding her alive and well. The image of people’s worlds becoming brighter just from a small smile from Max, the same way Scarlet’s world becomes brighter when she was around her closest friend. The feeling that Max would fulfill all the goals she held close to her heart was enough for Scarlet to make up her mind.

Paying that cost is the least she can do for the girl that took her in when she was at her lowest. The least she could do for the girl that made it worth smiling, worth laughing, worth loving.

She owed this to Maxseen.

So Scarlet took a long breath, and held her fists at her side, and nodded. “Please, save Maxseen.”

The dragon sighed, “Ok, if that’s what you want.”

She blew a cloud of smoke around Scarlet. It turned and spun around her, shifting from a dark mist-gray to the cold-purple of the crystals. It drifted closer, bounding itself around Scarlet, shielding her vision and cutting her off from the world.

The smoke clung to her skin, making it itch. She sucked in a cry when a stinging pain rapidly spread within her body—the feeling of fire bit into her upper and lower back. A piercing headache caused her to fall in on herself.

She screamed out.

It was hard to tell how long the pain clasped to Scarlet. Her mind had gone blank, leaving her stuck in the repeating spiral of what felt like flesh burning away and regrowing a second later.

Her sight cleared when the pain eased a little, letting Scarlet find herself lying on the stone floor. She glanced up at the dragon, her orange-fire eyes watching her every move.

Scarlet wiped the fallen tears away from her cheeks; she winced when a minor burn brushed the skin her hand touched. She pulled her fingers away, finding them painted with dark, sticky blood. “What-” her voice cracked and shook.

She struggled to push herself up. Her limbs screamed that they were hurting and exhausted. Breathing in gently, she caught sight of her reflection in the crystals; pearl white horns sat atop her head. A long midnight blue scaled tail lay on her lower back. Her shoulders now covered with white scales and the freckles she used to have, replaced with the same white scale stones. Blood dripped down her head and back at the foot of the horns and tail. A scar, the shape of a pair of dragon wings, had burned into her back.

Instead of her iris’ light chocolate brown, they now were the same color as the glowing crystals. Her pupils became slits similar to a cat’s. Her eyes now a constant reminder of her wish and the price she had to pay for it.

The tail and horns warned that Scarlet couldn’t leave the Forbidden Forest and that she couldn’t see Max.

“Wait.” Scarlet’s voice was raw as she cried out. “What about Max? How do I know my wish came true?”

The dragon tilted her head to the crystals. The reflections in the purple shifted, showing the familiar off-white room Scarlet spent hours of her past months in; a woman with long dark brown hair sat in a chair staring quietly down at her warm, golden-toned hands.

A young boy, no older than 12, with golden blond hair, and jade-green eyes, stood next to the woman staring anywhere except the bed that held a fragile girl.

Max’s cheeks had grown rosy, giving her the color she was missing for so long, giving her more life, less like a ghost. She was no longer thin and frail.

The slow movement of her raising her hand to rub tiredly at her eyes grabbed the attention of the young boy and woman. Max cracked her eyes open, letting the world see the warm blues that had been missing for so long. Looking over at the two visitors, she smiled, “Mom, Jade?” Her voice was quiet and weak from the months of not being using.

The mother cried out in joy, dragging her daughter into a firm embrace. Afraid that if she let go of Max, she’d lose her.

Her brother stared at Max in disbelief. Tears began making their way down his pale cheeks.

Max, a look of confusion written on her face, gave her usual worried grin at the sight of her Family’s behaver as the little boy joined the hug. The family held each other, not daring to let go.

Something tugged at the back of Scarlet’s shirt, raising her off the ground. The dragon turned and moved deep into the shadows of her cave, taking Scarlet with her.

★ 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓊𝓈𝓉 || 𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒾 𝒮𝒶𝓃 ★

★ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: ballet dancer!san x female!reader

★ 𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: romance, angst, some shitty comedy

★ 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: sexy times (but not too sexy), cringey romance

★ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.7k

★ 𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓪 𝓫𝔂: @starsforten​

★𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓕𝓲𝓿𝓮★

Byeol became an even closer friend than San at some point. A few weeks after the party, you were sitting on San’s bed up against his headboard with the Siamese feline curled up next to you. Her back was facing away toward the foot of the bed and her head was lying delicately against your clothed thigh. Her eyes, blue and bright, were closed as you stroked her side. The white-and-gray fur atop her head stood out against the black material of your leggings, a contrast you never would have thought you’d be looking at. In an instant, you turned your attention to her belly fur, scratching the softness of it and knowingly setting off Byeol’s play-fight instincts. She brought her hind legs up first, pushing your hand away with those before placing her forepaws on your fingers and unsheathing her claws just enough to try to scare you. But you just smiled, moving her hind legs back and forth with your hand.

Then you heard a scoff from the door, drawing your attention to it. San had come back from helping his mom reach a pot from a shelf and was now standing against his closed door, watching you two with a smirk. “내가 경쟁자가 있는 것 같군, 응?” Looks like I’ve got some competition, huh?

Your face heated up faster than if it had been lit with a torch. With a scoff of your own, you moved your eyes back to Byeol and kept annoying her, so much that she gave a small Mmrrrow and rolled away from your touch. She stalked to the edge of the bed and jumped down gracefully, making her way over to San so she could rub against his legs.

“아니,” Nope, he cheeped, bending down to scratch her behind the ears. “우리 별이가 제일 사랑 사람은 나야.” Byeol still loves me the most.

His lip had fully healed, not even the remnants of a wound left on the soft pink skin. You had been, admittedly, staring at them all the while. You wondered when he was finally going to kiss you and end your misery. You wanted to taste him, to know what he felt like. All those weeks of dates and teasing and finally something could be done but nothing had been. You were disappointed but mostly impatient. You swore you’d kiss him first if he wasn’t going to take the leap soon.

San closed the door as he fully stepped into the room, letting Byeol out as he did so. Once trapped, you subconsciously scooted back against the headboard and it made a little click sound as it hit the seafoam wall behind it. San smirked, a small laugh leaving his lips in breathy huffs. “Pfft.” Red hot embarrassment forced one of your hands up to push a piece of hair behind your ear as you averted your gaze. Between muttering things to yourself, you asked San how his family managed to paint the walls of their apartment without getting kicked out.

“우리는 이 집을 소유하고 있다,” We own it, is all he said.

Before you could verbalize a response, he drew closer to the bed, one of his hands trailing along the old sky-blue comforter as if he was just feeling the beat-up fleece for the first time. It was a peaceful blanket, comparable to an old piece of art. Fluffy clouds with shading and depth floated all over the sky. You thought of Studio Ghibli every time you saw San’s comforter. But this time you were only drawn to him. His gaze was on the design, and you could see his deep eyes through his lashes.

You didn’t realize you were staring until he caught you, looking up to return your gaze. Almost like a reflex, you looked away again, convinced you were a nonchalant master. But San knew you too well, didn’t he? “넌 항상 그렇게 해,” You always do that, he mumbled, sitting down beside you.

“음? 뭐?” Hm? What?

He pushed himself up against the headboard as well, only a few inches apart from you now as you sat side-by-side. “너는 내가 너를 볼 때 항상 외면해.” You always look away when I look at you.

You sighed. Of course, he was right—there you were, thinking about how annoying it was that he hadn’t kissed you yet, but you couldn’t even maintain eye contact. Hypocrite. “미안. 무섭다.” Sorry. It’s just scary.

“에? 뭐? 뭐 무서워?” Huh? What is? What’s scary? His eyebrows drew in as he turned toward you now, seemingly determined to get an answer.

Fearing you’d concerned him, you laughed. “아—아니, 아니야. 그런 뜻이 아니었어.” No—no, nothing. I didn’t mean it like that.

“하지만 네가 뭔가가 무섭다고 했잖아. 뭐야? 나에 대한 너의 감정?” But you said something is scary—what is it? Your feelings for me?

The walls began to close in on you two, but you couldn’t shut your mouth, not now. If you had, it would’ve been over. You always had the last word—you had to, especially with San. “아니! 아니라고!” No! I said nothing! You yelled, completely blocking out what he had said. You were sure you’d made it up, anyway. “그래! 좋아해! 그래서? 안 무서워!” Okay! I like you! So? I’m not scared!

San only stared at you as you went on, a smile growing on his face. “자쯩나 진짜! 너…너 일에나 신경써야 한다. 차, 가끔은 널—!” You’re so annoying! You…you should mind your own business. God, sometimes I just want to—!

The feeling of San’s warm lips moving against your own stopped your speech. You still hummed into his mouth for a moment, as you had the entire sentence planned out. It was a bit aggressive at first, like he had made the decision on a whim, and it took a few moments for you both to realize what was happening. Your stomach fell in the most pathetically beautiful way, never straying from the sensation of being at the top of a rollercoaster.

There’s something so artistic about improvised kisses. You were convinced that nothing tasted sweeter than him, nothing felt more like breathing—so natural—than kissing San like this. He moved one delicate hand up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him with need, letting one of your fingers trail down from his jaw to his neck, stopping to fist at the hem of his muscle-shirt. It was soft, the way he sucked on your bottom lip and then your top one, switching back and forth like he couldn’t decide which one he liked better. The only difference between breathing and kissing San was that, unlike breathing, this wasn’t something you could ignore. It wasn’t something that fell in the back of your mind and you could do without realizing. It just felt right, like you couldn’t go on without it.

You imagined that this is what it felt like—those rare stories of people that were born blind or deaf, but technology gave them the gift of sight or sound. You were wandering aimlessly until you met San. You were asleep until you felt him this way, sharing thoughts through the syncing of your body’s rhythms. You had heard something before—To live is to fall asleep, to die is to awake. Death had never felt so lively.

San broke the connection for a moment, probably to catch his breath. He looked at you through a gaze that you thought was lusty at first, but then he smiled, and between each of your heavy breaths that mingled where they met half-way between you two, you knew. You smiled back, moving your finger to trace a heart on the skin of his bottom lip. His smile grew, and he brought his other hand up to the other side of your face. His thumbs, slightly calloused, stroked your skin back and forth. His gaze reached deep into your own, only adding to the irregular nature of your heartbeat.

“마지막으로,” Finally, you muttered, somewhat into his mouth as he dove in once more. This time, you impatiently swiped at his lips with your tongue, red-hot embarrassment crawling up the back of your neck when he snickered through the kiss before granting you access.

“산아! 나와라, 음식이 준비됐다!” San! Come out, the food’s ready!

At the sound of his mother’s sing-song voice, you two practically jumped away from each other with San almost completely rolling off the bed and you knocking his lamp onto the ground. It fell all too quickly and landed with a crash as the somewhat translucent-blue blown glass shattered on the floor. The glass flew across the room, decorating the dark wood with its shiny pieces.

Wide-eyed, you turned to San with a whispered, “오모—어떻게?” Oh my God—what do we do?

At the same moment, his mother called, “다 괜찮아?” Is everything okay?

“어 엄마!” Yeah, mom! he yelled, quickly getting to his feet and looking around the room like he was searching for something. “금방 나갈게!” Be out in a minute!

You ended up having to get the dustpan from the kitchen after eating, and San’s mom only laughed when she discovered the reason (well, half of the reason) why you and San had acted so stiff and awkward during dinner. You apologized about a million times, but nobody was sour over the lamp’s passing.

San walked you home afterward, even though that included taking two buses. The trek was long and mostly silent, but you were grateful. You were still trying to process the night’s events, and it wasn’t uncomfortable to walk alongside him in silence. At one point, San reached over and took your hand in his own. When you looked over at him, he was staring up, above the buildings in the distance with a small smile on his face. You followed his gaze, reminded of an acoustic guitar piece when you saw the orange glow of central Seoul’s lights and pollution that sat just above the horizon. Stars were few and far between as you drew closer to the city, but it was still perfect. You laced your fingers with San’s, taking note of how sweaty his palms had grown in a short amount of time.

When you reached your apartment, you silently wished that you had lived in a more secluded area. But, no, the street noise was deafening, people strode to and fro on the street around you two, and the clerk from the convenience store across the street gave a wave that you could barely see between the passing of cars. You and San had stopped in front of the high-rise building, and his expression fell.

You said, “위층으로 올라올래?” Do you want to come up?

That fixed him because he broke into a grin and nodded. On the way up, he started talking about a group of children that had come to tour the school he was taking classes at, and how this one little chubby boy took a liking to him and kept calling him “Haengnim”. His eyes sparkled with adoration whenever he spoke of children. You silently wondered if he was trying to hint at a shared future and whether or not you wanted kids. An immature thought, but you were technically still a kid. Nineteen-year-olds still have foolish and premature thoughts when it comes to dating.

In front of your door, you stopped and turned to face him. You took both of his hands now, staring into his eyes—you wanted to know what he was thinking. Seemingly reading your mind, he smirked, then leaned down to press his slightly chapped lips to your own. You wet his lips with your tongue, something that made him grab onto your waist a bit strongly, and kiss you with more passion. Consciously or not, San deepened the kiss until you were full-on making out in the hallway. He backed you up against the wall beside your door, and fear overrode any heat invading your body from the way he touched and kissed you. If your mother had come out and seen you two, you would have died. Sure, you were an adult and everything, but it was just weird.

You pulled away, San stealing a few more kisses before you both fully stopped. He just smiled again, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “우리 첫날, 맞이?” This is our first day, right?

“뭐야,” What the, you teased. “우리 몇 주째 사귀는 줄 알았는데,” I thought we’ve been dating for a few weeks.

“근데 지금 나의 여친이야.” But now you’re my girlfriend.

“와, 나한테 물어보지도 않았구나.” Wow, you didn’t even ask me.

“내가 해야 하나?” Do I have to?

“정말 좋겠다.” It would be nice.

“알았어. 제 여자친구가—” Fine. Will you—

“아니. 너무 늦었군아.” Nope. Too late. 

San rolled his eyes, his smile never leaving. “문제아.” Brat.

“울어.” Cry about it.

San went in for a few last pecks before taking a step back, letting go of you. “내일 만날까?” See you tomorrow?

There was something so calm about the way he hung back, cool and unbothered as if you hadn’t kissed for the first time and then borderline went to second base in an apartment building hallway. You bid him farewell, trying to shake off the nerves tugging at your sleeve. He didn’t leave right away, though. He waited for you to go inside, watching you with a small smile and waving goodbye.

The next five months were more like a dream than reality. It was almost disgusting, the way you two paraded around with your affections toward each other. San loved to show you off, though. Friday nights were for getting as dressed up as possible and going to an expensive restaurant that changed each week. Saturdays turned into brunch days that you two attended in sweats and pajamas, both smiling and giddy messes after a night of unbridled lovemaking.

And you loved him.

Oh, how you loved Choi San. You loved the way he looked at you, always staring into your eyes for unnecessarily long amounts of time to see if you could hold his gaze. You loved the way he took the time to see into your heart and soul, acknowledging true intimacy that went past seeing you without clothes. You loved the way he held you when you cried. You loved the way he pulled you into hugs, resting his head on your shoulder when he was upset. You loved knowing that he loved you, too. He didn’t say it often, but you could tell in the moments you caught him staring at you with wonder while you were doing the most mundane things. You could tell when he traced the words “I love you” on your body with his tongue during intimate moments. Besides all that, Yunho was such a shit when it came to hanging out all together. If you hadn’t paid attention to San’s mannerisms, you would still know his feelings for you because of how obvious his friends made it.

Being young and blinded by love and great sex, you thought that it might actually last forever. The way San talked sometimes, it seemed like the sound of wedding bells were carrying you both on the winds of life to a future together.

Then, one day in early August, your phone buzzed urgently in your purse while you were out with a friend. It was San calling. He asked you to meet, but his voice was a bit unstable like he’d been crying. You agreed, but your stomach soured. He sounded off, and he felt off, too. Static overtook every other sound for a moment. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it seemed too abrupt. Things were great. Sure, you had quarrels and events happened in each of your lives that you had to get through, but you leaned on each other for support. This felt different, though. You didn’t think he wanted to lean on you, but rather, ask you if he should save you or himself from falling to an untimely demise. It was a premature thought, but you weren’t too far-off.

Masterlist

Babymoon - Charlie McAvoy

Summary: Charlie and his pregnant girlfriend enjoy a nice babymoon in St Lucia. Charlie’s a little impatient to meet their little one while the reader would like to stay forever and raise their child in the nature, by the ocean and away from the city.

Words: 1666

“A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, bankroll smaller, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten and the future worth living for.” - Pablo Picasso

Charlie and Y/n arrived to the villa when the sun began to rise and the second she got out of the car and took a deep breath of the fresh air a wide smile appeared on her face. Charlie glanced over at her and smiled to himself, not because he was excited to be finally there (although he of course was) but because seeing her happy and excited meant everything to him. Charlie made sure to rent a villa with the best views and a nice spacious balcony and sundeck because he knew how much she loved to spend early mornings or late evenings on the balcony to enjoy the scenery. Hand in hand they checked in at the reception and rushed to their room to get a little bit of rest before heading out.

“This place is absolutely gorgeous,” Y/n said with a very noticeable excitement in her voice. “Look at this,” she said to Charlie and led him to the balcony so he could see it for himself.

And she was right. C'est La Vie villa was a magical place and Charlie felt relieved she loved it because although they both agreed on going to St Lucia he picked and booked the villa by himself as a surprise for her.

Y/n headed to the front of the veranda to feel sunshine fall on her face. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath of the fresh air and listened to the sound of waves and birds that were flying around the garden that was underneath her. She then looked around the whole property. There was a table on the veranda right by the infinity pool where breakfast would be served in an hour overlooking the endless green landscape highlighted by bright pink, red, yellow and orange flowers. A waterfall by the pool in the garden and a daybed and private bar added to the charm. The inside was decorated with antique wooden furniture, big windows with long white curtains, each bedroom had a private veranda and bathroom. A short pathway through the garden led to their private beach. Y/n felt like she was in a dream and happily rubbed her belly feeling the baby kick and move. She was, without doubt, happier than she could ever imagine herself be. She was blessed with a great man, loving family and friends and now with a pregnancy she longed for.

Charlie changed into his swim shorts and went to the sundeck to rest by the infinity pool while he waited for his girl. Now that they were finally on the babymoon, he finally realized that everything was real and truly happening. He was in disbelief ever since Y/n announced the pregnancy to him and he was so happy that his brain couldn’t process it until now. 18 weeks after she told him.

At the beginning of her pregnancy her morning sickness was so bad she couldn’t get out of the bed and Charlie stayed with her whenever he could and took care of her. Held her hair when she was throwing up, made tea for her and what she appreciated the most was when he got into the bed with her, wrapped his arms around her and whispered comforting words to her until she fell asleep or felt better. He got her everything she needed and wanted, helped with everything and never complained or questioned anything she said or asked for. He was the one who bought the first piece of clothing and the first toy for their baby, long before they found out the gender and started thinking of names and nursery themes and he felt like there was no way he could wait so many months without going crazy - he was so impatient. Back then when she was only six weeks it seemed like they would have to wait forever. When she turned 20 weeks a fear of not being a good dad and of not knowing how to take care of his own child took over him but not for too long because Y/n immediately assured him he was going to be the best dad in the world. He cried from happiness when he found out he was going to have a daughter and immediately called his family to tell them the news. Charlie’s hands were on her growing belly most of the time and he enjoyed every kick and movement even though he knew it was uncomfortable for Y/n from time to time. He was more in love than ever before.

Y/n appeared on the sundeck a few minutes later dressed in white knitted shorts, white biking top, and long white see-through kimono. Her long wavy hair fell onto her belly and her tanned skin together with her beautiful face glowed in the sunlight. She looked like a beautiful fairy you would see in your dreams and he couldn’t believe such beauty stood next to him and that he got to call her his. Charlie looked at her with pure adoration and love. The happiness she felt inside showed perfectly on her face as she was always glowing, her eyes were bright and smile was permanent on her lips.

She lay down on the lounger next to him, stroked her belly and with closed eyes reached for Charlie’s and placed it on her stomach so he could feel the baby’s movements as well. “She loves the sun already,” she said with a proud smile.

“I keep telling you she’ll be just like you,” Charlie chuckled. Having a healthy daughter with a happy, positive and kind personality just like her mom’s was all he wished for. “Can’t wait to have her here, to hold her and see her grow.” Charlie sighed, he was getting impatient again.

“A few more weeks love,” she reminded him. “I think it’s going quite fast, she’ll be there before we even realize it.”

Charlie grinned at her, dimples appeared on both sides of his face and walked over to her so he could kiss her before he rested his head on her belly. He kissed the belly a few times before he pulled away and stared at the belly for a while trying to sort out his thoughts. “You have no idea how much daddy loves you, baby girl,” he said softly. It was a common thing for Charlie to speak to their baby girl, pretty much every morning and night before they went to sleep. He found telling Y/n how much he loved her and how beautiful he was important and so it made sense for him to tell his daughter how much he loved her already as well. “I’m gonna make sure you and your mommy have everything you ask for. I promise.” He said as he rubbed the soft skin of Y/n’s stomach and kissed it again.

“We should stay here and never come back,” Y/n whispered. “Imagine rising a child in this paradise. In nature, by the ocean and away from the rush of the city.”

Charlie let out a quiet sigh. He knew Y/n didn’t enjoy living in the city and always dreamed of living in a warm place with beautiful nature and if it was only a bit possible, he wouldn’t hesitate and move with her to anywhere in the world just to make her happy. He could imagine raising their daughter here, in privacy and on the fresh clear air. Spend days on the beach, discover new places and eat fresh fruit every day. He saw their little one running around with a wide smile and laughing loudly while playing with her mommy in the garden.

“Charlie is everything okay?” Y/n voice disturbed Charlie’s thoughts and he looked up at her confused at first and then he shook his head to let her know everything was fine.

“I was just thinking,” Charlie mumbled looking around the place. “You know that if it was possible, I would move away immediately right?”

“Oh Charlie,” she gasped and quickly wrapped her hands around his neck. “I was just thinking out loud that’s all. I didn’t want to make you feel bad. I can’t move away just as you can’t.” She chuckled and pulled away from him, she looked him in the eyes for a few seconds and then she kissed him deeply.

“I know,” he nodded.

“Charlie look, we have so many blessings. I don’t even know if I deserve everything I currently have. There’s no reason to stress about this okay?”

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Charlie asked.

“About five times since we landed,” she laughed.

“You’re gonna be the best mom in the world,” Charlie announced randomly and loudly with a smile and red cheeks. Every day she gave him a new reason to love her and a new proof that she was going to be the best mom. “I knew it even before you got pregnant and you just keep confirming it.” Charlie truly knew it long before Y/n got pregnant. He realized it when he saw her with her friend’s baby and then again when they babysat Torey’s daughter together.

“Charles stop it, or I won’t stop blushing for the rest of the day,” she laughed and covered her face with her hands. She never got used to his compliments and even after gout year of being with him, she was still just as shy as she was in the beginning. Her cheeks never stopped turning red and her heart still bested faster whenever he expressed his love to her. “Our little lady is so lucky to have you as a dad; do you realize that?”

“And I’m one lucky man to have such gorgeous ladies in my life.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and jumped to the pool hearing Y/n laugh in the background.

starving artist | shota aizawa x reader

hello!! this is chapter three of “starving artist” and i really hope you guys are enjoying it :) ive really loved writing it! i update primarily to wattpad (@/vangoghpoets) but i update here as well! also, don’t be afriad to reach out with requests <3 

You basically passed out the moment you arrived home, exhausted from your week. The following morning you forced yourself to wake up early and begin the sketch and underpainting of the first canvas for the first-year dorm common area. You're usually a scrambled mess when it comes to your artwork, but you wanted to try being organized for once.

Looking down at the half-finished brown underpainting, you sighed in frustration. Your fingers ached, not having done such a large amount of sketching in a long time. You grabbed your sketchbook for reference, noticing the numbers scribbled down in the corner.

"Aizawa..." you mumbled to yourself. A blush crept up your cheek

you: hi aizawa, i hope you got some rest! this is y/n btw :)

You didn't expect a reply right away, yet your phone chimed in mere minutes.

aizawa: i didn't expect you to be an early bird y/n. and yes i got some rest, thank you.

You giggled at his punctuation, even over text he seemed so serious. You left your art easel and went to sit down on your couch.

you: ive just begun my underpainting so i have a lot of work today

aizawa: whats an underpainting? i thought it was called a canvas

You laughed to yourself, curling up on your couch.

you: no no, an underpainting is first layer of paint applied to canvas, its a base for future layers of paint

aizawa: I had no idea painting was so intricate. i just figured you were either talented or not.

you: it's just like being a hero, you'll never be good if you don't put your all in it. And you want to do great, no matter how difficult it is.

aizawa: i'm guessing you're pretty tired then.

you: incredibly tired.

It was true, you were utterly drained from jumping back and forth from teaching to painting. It felt like you hadn't had a single moment to yourself since you started at UA. Your phone chimed again.

aizawa: do you want me to bring you a coffee? it's the least i can do since you picked all those leaves out of my hair and because i fell asleep on you.

You blinked at the text, surprised at the offer. You had a tiny crush on Aizawa that you were constantly pushing down. Maybe this could be an opportunity to prove yourself that you could get over your mushy feelings for him. You typed back quickly.

you: coffee sounds amazing actually! are you sure you don't mind?

aizawa: not at all.

You gave him your address and tried to bury the giddy feelings swelling up inside you. In an attempt to distract yourself from his impending arrival, you went back to your easel and continued your underpainting. You put your entire focus on completing the underpainting, working with both speed and detail. You were adding shading to the canvas figures when the doorbell rang. You shot up from your concentrated position and wiped your face flustered, forgetting about the orange paint that covered your fingertips.

You walked over and opened the door, smiling to see Aizawa out of his work attire. He wore a simple black sweater that looked a little too big on him, accompanied by black jeans and what appeared to be Doc Marten boots.

"Hello!" You smiled at him, letting him enter your home.

He smiled softly, holding the coffee cups in his hands.

"Hello, y/n. You have paint on your face by the way."

Your eyes widened in horror at his words. You began to laugh nervously as you hurried to the bathroom, Aizawa left standing in your living room and looking around. You scrubbed your face quickly, mentally scolding yourself for the careless move. You swiftly fixed your hair and walked back out to meet Aizawa.

He turned to you and handed you your coffee. "I hope you like vanilla, it was just a guess."

You grinned, taking the warm cup in your hands and taking a whiff of the sweet steam peeking out.

"It's perfect, thank you."

Aizawa nodded, looking around your living room. He looked odd standing in all black in your colorful home. From the rug to the furniture to the dinnerware, your home was eccentric, to say the least. Whether it was a souvenir from your travels or trinkets of a local artist, everything had its place. Aizawa looked like a goth at a child's birthday party in your home.

He took a sip from his coffee and gestured to a painting on the wall. It was an old painting of a village, filled with rustic colors and gentle strokes. You smiled softly at the feelings of home that surged over you.

"No, my grandmother made it. I inherited her quirk actually. It's a painting of the village we grew up in."

Aizawa turned to you and tilted his head, "Village?"

You chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, my family is from a poor island in the Caribbean. My parents moved us to America so we could have a better life. We as in my sister and me." You smiled to yourself, picturing your family back home.

"So why are you in Japan now?"

"I'd always save up money from my art shows to come here. Everything is just so beautiful and I'm a sucker for a good still life. I just figured I could save myself the money and move here."

Aizawa nodded, slightly confused at your art terminology.

"Can I see one of your paintings? Or your underpainting thing?"

You giggled and nodded, leading him into your mini art studio. The room had an easel and stacks upon stacks of prepped paper and canvases. Jars filled with brushes, charcoal, Indian ink, and pencils lined the shelves. A bucket sat on a small table, filled to the brim with acrylic paints. Another box filled with oil, one filled with gauche, and the last one filled with watercolor palettes.

"It's kind of a mess, sorry," you mumbled under your breath as he walked inside. Aizawa looked around entranced. Several finished and partly finished paintings hung from clips on a string, drying or waiting to be sold. He faced your easel and scrunched his nose in confusion.

"Why is it all one color?" He pointed to the orange underpainting.

"Underpaintings are monochromatic," you answered matter-of-factly. "It gives the painting more depth."

Aizawa nodded, his mouth forming a small 'o' shape in understanding. There was a moment of silence as Aizawa continued to look around in awe.

"This is really incredible, y/n," He said softly. You felt the heat take over your face, making you panic rather than take the compliment. "Who's your inspiration?"

You blinked, still flustered from your tomato red blush, "Huh?"

Aizawa stepped towards you, tossing the empty coffee cup in the trash.

"Who inspired you? Like, every young hero is inspired by a pro. Who's your pro?"

You smiled softly, "My grandmother, I mean she gave me this great quirk. Its nothing a hero could really use, but its been good to me so far. But as for a professional artist, I'd have to say, Matisse."

He tilted his head, clearly not knowing who he was. You chuckled, "He's a French painter." Aizawa nodded once again.

"I've been to France before, Paris specifically. It was for a pro hero conference but still."

Your eyes widened, "Of all the places in Europe I've traveled to, I've never been to Paris. It's basically my dying wish to go to the Louvre."

"I didn't get to do much tourism when I was there, I'd like to go back someday."

You smiled at Aizawa, he didn't strike you as someone who'd enjoy traveling or tourism, but you could still imagine him in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt and a camera strapped around him. The image in your head made you giggle softly. He eyed you and looked down at your hands.

"I heard about your quirk but I've never seen you use it."

"I could say the same for you," I said lying. Of course, you'd seen clips of him and his quirk on the news, but never really in front of you.

He rolled his eyes, "Show me."

You tried to hide your flustered blush that emerged from his sudden seriousness. You grabbed a paper from the stack and gently placed your whole palm on it.

"What's your favorite color?"

He looked down at himself and his black attire and back up at you.

"Yellow actually."

You nodded, remembering his yellow goggles and sleeping bag. Once you pulled your hand away, the paper had a mustard yellow imprint of your palm. You showed him your hand, the paint disappearing back into your skin.

Aizawa raised his eyebrows impressed, "You managed to match the color to my sleeping bag."

You grinned; proud he had noticed, "I'm pretty good at shade matching." He gently took the paper with your handprint.

"You have small hands." He looked up at your hands and lifted his up for comparison. You lifted your hand up and placed it on his. He was right, your hand was small compared to his. You stared at his hand on yours, not wanting to pull away. His palms were calloused, most likely from hero work. You gave him a sly smile. Aizawa furrowed his brows in confusion, "What?" He pulled his hand away, only to see an imprint of paint of your palm on his in your favorite color. "Hey!" He grumbled and pulled his hand away from you grumpily.

"Now you know my favorite color," you giggled. He sent a glare in your direction, swiftly running his hand across your cheek, covering you in the paint. You gasped, "Aizawa!"

He burst out laughing at the smear of paint on your cheek. It was the first time you truly saw him laugh and it caught you off guard. You narrowed your eyes at him, your hands prepping the paint.

"Oh, you are so dead Aizawa."

He gave you a smirk, "Oh really?"

You shot bright neon shades of paint from your fingertips, splatter painting his black sweater. His eyes widened.

"Yes, really." You answered, returning the smirk.

He stared at you and before you could realize, he had used his quirk to erase yours. Swiftly he wrapped his arms around you, like a tight hug, and covered you in the fluorescent paint. You gasped trying to break free. "Aizawa I can't believe you!" You couldn't help but laugh at seeing his body wrapped around yours, the usual dark figure covered in bright hues. He chuckled and slowly let go of you. As much as you hated being covered in paint, you missed his arms around you.

"You know you can call me Shota, right?"

You blushed, thankful for the paint on your cheeks covering it up.

"Okay, Shota."  

One blisteringly hot afternoon, Elia and Ashara lounged in the princess’ solar. Her friend sat across from her, atop her Dornish rug – that old filthy rug Ashara gifted her on arrival to Sunspear, all those years ago. It had seen more dances than the palace feast hall. It was where they twirled, Ashara with Elia, the music trapped by closed windows and doors. Once the colour of blood oranges, now it told an earthy tale of love and laughter, of more good times than anyone could ever be promised.
It was this perfectly normal day that Ashara came to a sobering realisation. Elia was oh so beautiful.
Ashara was supposedly composing a new melody on her handpan. Instead, whilst Elia was concentrating on her book, Ashara concentrated on her. She watched the way her dainty fingertips tapped idly on the frayed edges of the rug, the waves of her hair, her eyelashes fluttering when she blinked in shock at whatever she was reading. Ashara was enamoured. 
She met her dark orbs; the most beautiful in all of Dorne, she was certain. They were so dark they seemed almost black until the sunlight caught them, setting them molten hues of the very richest of browns, bright with life and laughter. 
Her skin – and Ashara had the good fortune of being able to feast her eyes on a great deal of it in the sticky heat. Usually she was covered in a shawl, lest she catch a chill and see her in bedridden for days, but today’s humidity called for minimal layers – her skin glowed a deep bronze that turned rosy at her cheeks and pink at her lips. And what lips they were; full and tempting as they twisted up into a smile. 
“Fuck,” Ashara breathed, dizzy from desire. She could not remember when she had felt the like of it. Perhaps never at all. Though she took pleasure in men, women always did seem to have a way of making her heart flutter quicker. 
Her thoughts drifted, to somewhere different, to a train of thought she knew she should not entertain. She should not have been imagining how soft her lips were, or how warm her tongue would feel against her own. 
More and more, every time they were together, she felt something stirring, until her heart ached to be rid of it, but yearned even harder to hold on to it simultaneously. 
Ashara wondered if this was another passing fancy. For that was always her problem—she fell in lust too easily. With a snorted laugh, a crooked smile, the movement of hands when they spoke; a unique intonation in a voice, and she would be infatuated. Ashara spent her short young years entangled in a mad love affair with the very concept of people. Nonetheless, her feelings were as changing as the waves of the Summer Sea. 
She snapped out of her reverie. Elia seemed startled, the rhythmic hum of her fingernails on the surface of the rug lost. They both stayed silent. 
The tension in the air was suffocating. It felt as if Ashara’s thoughts were so loud that Elia could hear them. 
“What dark cloud troubles your mind today?” Elia asked because she knew her too well. And simultaneously, not nearly well enough. 
“None at all.” Ashara responded far too quickly. 
“Tell your brows that. You’re frowning my dearest.” Elia teased. 
When Ashara felt her forehead, she was surprised to find the tell-tale signs of a deep frown. 
“Oh.” 
Elia’s black eyes studied her, though not quite as intensely as Ashara previously observed her. 
“Lady Ashara, do you miss your brother?” 
She did, of course she did, but not enough to call him back. He was finally doing something for himself, she could not begrudge him that. 
She shrugged. 
“You know he is with family, uncle Lewyn will care for him like his own son.” 
“I’m not worried about him.” 
Ashara answered, although her eyes again drifted to Elia’s taunting lips. 
Elia regarded her, eyes roaming from head to toe, and for a moment Ashara feared she might have been caught. Elia had always been able to read her as easily as the book in her hands, as if the words of Ashara’s thoughts were written across her forehead. 
“Do you wish to have gone with the Red Viper after all?” 
Not more than a few moons after they returned from the Scorched Rock, Oberyn bedded Lord Edgar Yronwood’s paramour, then challenged him to a duel. The young prince had won the duel. However, the whispers of Yronwood’s death, days later, spoke of Oberyn wielding a poisoned blade. Princess Furiosa had all but exiled the Red Viper, sending him on “duty” to Oldtown and then Lys. 
Before Oberyn’s departure he had begged Ashara to leave with him, to seek out adventures across the world together. He attempted to persuade her with vows of giving her heart’s desire. She would be free to dance, and sing, and indulge. Everything she had ever dreamed of, yet she refused when she realised it would mean leaving home… leaving Elia. 
“No, my place is with you, princess.” She answered honestly. 
Elia smiled. 
“You are good to stay with me, Asha. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” 
Now, Ashara smiled. 
“I will always stay with you, Elia. I have yet to meet a man I prefer to you. I fear that is my curse.” 
The words caught in her throat as puzzling sadness washed through her. 
“Don’t listen to your mother’s urgings, we are still prized maidens, and the time for husbands remains in the distance.” Elia deduced. 
Since Prince Doran’s wedding to the beautiful Lady Mellario of Norvos, Lady Dayne had put increasing pressure on both herself and Aethan to look towards marriage, much to Ashara’s chagrin. The mere idea of being tied down to a husband, locked up in his castle for the rest of her days, made her want to fling herself from a very high tower. She still vividly remembered the fiasco that was her parents’ marriage and had no desire for anything similar. 
“You must not have heard her endless nagging at the wedding.” 
Elia laughed then. It would have been difficult for anyone within earshot to not hear the grumblings of Lady Dayne. 
“You must look to the future, Ashara…will you grow old alone-” Ashara said, impersonating Lady Dayne’s incessant fussing. 
“No, no… ‘will you grow old with no family, Ashara… the boys already complain you only have eyes for Elia, Ashara…’” Elia teased, fingertips poking at Ashara with every sentence. 
“…If you are to be married soon, you need to at least pretend to find them half interesting, Ashara.” 
Elia mercilessly tickled at her sides, sending her into fits of giggles. 
“Princess.” Ashara reprimanded when she was all but gasping for breath. 
Elia smiled at her with feigned innocence and Ashara immediately sought revenge. 
It was only then she realised they may have gotten carried away. As her own laughter died down, she wound up pinning Elia down, wrists above her head, straddling her. 
She gazed long and hard at the dark eyes beneath, and Elia looked at her in a kittenish way, head tilted and eyes sparkling. Ashara felt as though her entire body became magnetised. Her thoughts raced, confused and sporadic, like a lightning storm inside her mind. For the life of her, Ashara could not comprehend why she suddenly felt this way. She decided her mind was malfunctioning when she thought she saw Elia visibly gulp, blink, and lock her gaze onto Ashara’s eyes. 
“I…” Ashara coerced herself to say, feigning normalcy in her voice. Although, for reasons beyond comprehension, not letting Elia’s wrists free, nor shifting so she no longer straddled her. 
And apparently, that was entirely acceptable with Elia, because she looked, then, like they were having the most ordinary conversation, in the most ordinary way. 
“I – I, simply, uh.” 
Her words were failing her miserably. Elia’s body was wriggling underneath her own, and her dress too thin, and seven hells, she was a disaster. Her eyes dropped down to Elia’s lips, and she cursed herself for being so obvious. 
Ashara cleared her throat and finally found her voice.
“I dare you to dance for me.” She spoke the first thing that came to her mind. 
Elia laughed musically at Ashara’s odd behaviour. 
“Why would I do that?” 
Her eyes were soft, yet hypnotizing like she was peering directly into the sun. In that moment, Ashara dropped her hands, moving to hold Elia’s face. 
“I shall bestow you a kiss if you do.” 
Ashara was pushing the boundaries of their relationship, was intrigued to see if this was simply lust or something else altogether. 
“And what makes you think I want to kiss you.” 
“Don’t you?” 
She knew she was not supposed to feel this way. Elia was her closest friend, a sister almost. 
Ashara gingerly caressed over her darkened cheeks and nose… and lips. When Elia shut her eyes, she stroked the tips of her thumbs over her eyelids ever so gently, feeling her lashes flutter against her skin. It was new territory for them, but Elia seemed to enjoy it, arching up into her touch and smiling. Then, Ashara kissed her; her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose…
Her hands shook slightly, her mind repeating the same sentence over and over, ‘do not do this…’ 
But the sound of her heart was beating so thunderously she could not concentrate. 
Their lips touched, and the world fell away. 
Elia’s mouth was firm against hers, but the kiss remained gentle, slow, and yet passionate, comforting in ways that words would never be.
They held it, before their lips began to move in perfect sync, slowly, cautiously. It was a few moments before it registered that Elia was kissing her back. She adjusted her hand from an impossibly soft cheek to the back of her head, fingers tangling in long, dark hair, lightly pulling Elia closer, adding greater pressure and deepening the kiss. 
When it came to an end, Ashara exhaled through her nose, not wanting to let go. Her entire body had been taken over by the overwhelming feeling of relief, combined with eccentric panic and lust. 
Onyx eyes opened and they stared at each other in a strange way. Ashara sat frozen as she deciphered exactly what the touching of their lips made her feel. 
“What was that for?” Elia asked, observing her as if calculating a complex cyvasse play. 
Unable to take the pressure of Elia’s scrutinizing gaze, she looked away when she answered. 
“I was curious, I suppose.” 
Ashara half expected Elia to laugh, instead of the words which came. 
“And have I sated your curiosity?” There was a playful lilt to her voice that washed Ashara’s anxieties away. 
“I’m not certain, let me steal another and we shall find out.” Ashara half jested. 
Elia halted Ashara in her descent with a hand to her chest. When she met her gaze, there was no longer amusement in her eyes. 
“I might allow you another, if you vow not leave me another heartbroken maiden, running from the gardens in the wake of your fancy.” She said gravely.
Something akin to guilt swirled in the pit of Ashara’s stomach. 
Ashara was in no hurry to give this newly discovered sensation up. It was a tingling that stirred low in her stomach, and she wanted it to consume her.
With another kiss, Ashara promised on soft lips.
“I would try my hardest for you.” 
They kissed, again, and again, and again. Until they were breathless, until they could not speak, until their giggles became hoarse and squeaky. 
At night, they fell into bed together. And because it was late, and only because of that, they helped each other with their undergarments rather than wake the servants. Though they had dressed and undressed in front of one another a million times, something was different between them. Disrobing transformed into something of a shy dance. 
Their hands were much less practiced than handmaidens, but they laughed and fumbled their way through it all the same. Ashara learned the way to twist her wrist so that the stays of Elia’s intricately woven vermilion silk dress loosened easily; and she also learned to ignore the way that her heart hammered at the softness of Elia’s skin against her fingertips. She attempted not to notice the way the straps had left marks against her back, angry and red, that she craved to smooth out with her palms, and if she was to be honest, with her mouth. 
She forced herself from staring when Elia stepped out of her drawers, naked and giggling. Instead, she passed over a nightgown as if the sight of her was nothing important. In a feigned cough, Ashara disguised the way her breath caught at a glimpse of Elia’s bronze body in the moonlight. As she observed her final preparations for sleep, Ashara desperately attempted to distract herself from ungodly musings about the shape of the princess, the swell of her breasts under her nightdress, and the dark softness at the apex of her thighs that she was not supposed to be hungry for. 
In the end, they laid side by side, silent, and not touching; other than the way their hands pressed together. 
Eventually, in the stillness of the moments before dawn, Ashara unveiled the full scope of her earlier realisation. 
‘So, this must be love,’ she thought. 
Ashara never intended to grow attached this way, yet in hindsight, she understood this was inevitable; only she had been blind to it from the very first greeting. How could she not love Elia? How could she not love those understanding onyx eyes, the pristine waves of her cocoa hair, the way her delicate hands fit in Ashara’s palms, her kisses, the scent of blood-oranges and honey emanating off her. 
‘Surely, this was love?’ 
There would never be another to show her fierce protection, attentive care and unwavering support, in the way Elia did. 
If this was love, oh seven hells, Ashara was royally fucked. 
However, when dawn gave light to day, Ashara concluded her feelings were wrong and she could not allow for feelings of love. Not with Elia, for in the dark she had come to think of every reason she could not pursue such feelings.
‘I would ruin you.’ Ashara thought admiring her sleeping princess. It was not pondered with malicious intent, only she knew, with time, she would certainly sully everything. Elia was too pure and sweet and good for Ashara. 
In the rear of her mind, Lady Dayne’s cursed words from long ago played like a Dornish mockingbird tormenting her to heel. 
‘You will be like me, selfish, melancholic down to your innermost core… incapable of love.’ 
Ashara knew what was likely to happen, and for the love she had, she refused to allow her feelings to consume them both. It would only result in a broken heart and a boat with a single destination to Starfall.
Ashara believed a little pain now, would spare them greater strife in future. Thus, she decided to run from love. 
Ashara was positive her quick change in mind would hurt the princess, yet she continued to vow into the dark that Elia would never need to fear anything; that Ashara would fight whatever life had to throw at her with her, and dance until her feet bled to keep that smile on her face, because Ashara had little to offer the world but she could offer that. She could do that. In the foggy depths of a confused mind maybe that was enough. 
When morning arrived, Ashara fell into a long perfected act, like nothing at all had occurred the day previous, ad if she noticed disappointment in dark eyes, she ignored it. 
This would not be the first time she broke a heart, nor the last, yet it would be the first her own broke alongside the one she returned battered. Elia would recover from it and Ashara would stumble into the next doomed love affair to split the earth beneath her, until there was nothing whole left in her to break.
Ashara thought to a conversation they once had. They debated the definition of humanness. To Elia, humanness was the capacity to be hurt. Though Elia was brilliant, knew things about the histories of Dorne and Westeros that might put a king to shame, knew about love and caring for children; Ashara knew humanness was the ability to hurt, to harm, to ruin. Why else did temples and empires tumble down if not for the efforts of humankind? Why else were little girls violated before they even understood what the word meant? Ashara knew it was inherently human to cause ruin. That is why she was just like the rug they cleaned over and over. No matter how much cleansing she did, she could never truly wash away her chaotic contaminating darkness.

And They Were Roommates - Jung Hoseok

In which I give you another set of blurbs about being roomates!

Word Count - 1,856

Warning - Profanity and the same awkward moments. Also during the nightmare portion, it involves a dream about DROWNING! If you have issue with that please skip over it, I don’t want you all to think about it if it hurts you.

Request are open still!

Masterlist

———————————————————————

NIGHT SHIFTS

If it wasn’t you staying late at the store it was Hoseok. Coming back to the partment well past midnight, having to force his body another few feet before he crashed on the couch. You remember the countless times you’ve have to physically holster his body on top of yours and drag him towards the bedroom. All these long nights were taking a big toll on him and you could see his appearance change right before your eyes. And it was heartbreaking.

“Oh shit!” Hoseok’s panicked voiced called out. His eyes were wide when he noticed the time that was flashing across his clock. He flung the heavy covers from his body when he saw that two hours, two precious hours have passed. Having missed these two hours of work was a huge deal, he might as well be fired at this point. Right before he could finish ripping off his shirt, you quickly opened his bedroom door.

“Calm down, I called the store and asked for the week off for you. Made them think it was family emergency. ” You softly smiled and handed him a steaming cup of coffee.

“Y/n, we need the money. We can barley afford rent.” Hoseok started, a glum expression overtaking his features. He always worked long hours from the moment you two started sharing this apartment. The extra work load was draining him ever so slightly, but he’d work his body to the bone it if meant you’d never have to be this exhausted.

“I know and I’m gonna pull as many shifts as possible for while! So you’re gonna get the rest you deserve.” You chirped, whiling pulling your hair back and fixing your work uniform.

“But, Y/n,” Hoseok argued, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“No, but’s, Hobi.” You stated, a little more demanding then Hoseok would have liked. He knew better then to argue the moment your eyesbrows raised in a knowing matter. “Now, please have the best week of your life. Because my sunshine you deserve it.”

He stood in the middle of the room a small ache in his heart when he heard the door shut. He wished you could have took the week off as well, but the bills were piling up and they weren’t gonna pay themselves.

—

You tried to unlock the door as quietly as possible. The last thing you wanted to do was bother him this late at night. Finally having slid the door open without it squeaking, only to be greeted with a surprised, but very appreciated sight. Hoseok with a sleepy grin and drooping eyes.

“Hobi, you should be asleep.” You sighed as you started taking off your shoes. You let out a puff of air the moment your sore back collided with the cushions on the couch.

“You always stay up for me and I wanted to do the same for you.” Hoseok shrugged taking your hands in his. Rubbing small patterns on them as well.

“Well, you’ve stay up long enough time for bed.” You yawned slightly and pulled his body upwards. “I’m ready for my Hobi cuddles.”

“And I’m more than happy to give them.”

—

SINGING IN THE SHOWER

You couldn’t help the adoring smile that overtook your face. When Hobi started singing you could already feel your mood being lifted. The soft melodies leaving his plump lips just felt so serene. You wished he’d sing more often, but he always gets too shy and comments that he is no where near as good as you say. You know that’s not the truth what so ever.

Taking light footsteps in order for the floor not to creak and give you away. You pressed your ear up against the wooden door and slowly fell in love with the soft echoes of the song he was singing. To others this may seem like a sketchy situation to be in, you ear is pressed up to a bathroom door. If anyone saw that they’d probably think you’re on something.

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop!” Hoseok’s disimbodied voice spoke. He watched with amusement as the shadows that was being casted underneath the door quickly slid off.

“I’m not! I swear,I just like your singing!” You sputtered when you got caught. “I still say it gets better everyday.”

“Oh my god, y/n, go away!”

“We both know I’m right though!”

—

NIGHTMARES

It was taking your body hostage. The feeling of the waves circulating around you and trapping you beneath it’s cool surface. Everything was growing suffocating, you felt the air bubbles leave your lips. You were trying to take deep breaths, but you could only feel the water filling up your lungs.

“Oh my god!” You shot up and slightly coughed. You hastily turned on the lights and tried to calm your body down. It was shaking like a leaf as you clutched the blankets.

“Baby, shit are you okay!” Hoseok exclaimed the moment his eyes locked with your terrified figure. Your eyes were casted downwards and your hands gripping the blanket like a safety object.

“It’s just another nightmare, about the water.” You muttered and made a slight grabby hand towards his side. You clutched the orange material like your life depended on it. You knew it was just a dream, but god it felt so real. It felt as if your real body was being beaten by the brutal waves. It felt as if you were loosing the fight.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Hoseok tried to console you. He tucked you into his muscular shoulders and played with your hair.

“Can you stay up with me for a little longer?” You meekly mumbled out. You felt so bad depriving him from sleep, but you needed him.

“Of course I don’t mind. I’ll always be here for you.”

—

SLID IT OUT

You loved feeling the slight breeze blow through your hair. The simple little action reminds of when you used to do this in your childhood days. Slipping and sliding all over the place. Pulling on your favorite socks and just having at it in the hallway of your little apartment.

“Do I want to know?” Hoseok questioned while staring at you. His big, bright eyes following your stumbling movements.

“Remember when Cristina Yang was talking about dancing it out? Well I’m not much on dancing till I forget about things,” You spoke as you took a running start. The sound of your fluffy socks sliding across the hardwood floors right up to him. “I’d rather slid my problems away.”

Hoseok cocked his and a small chuckle of amusement left his lips. He’s seen you do questionable things, but this almost takes the cake. “Isn’t this a little childish?”

“Too some people probably, but it helps me let loose for a minute or two.” You shrugged and raced forward sliding again. “You know I bet you’d have a lot of fun if you just tried it.”

He bit his lip in consideration while staring at you from down the hallway. With a short huff he quickly rid himself of his beaten up sneakers. He rolled his eyes playfully when he saw you clap your hands excitedly. His boisterous laugh echoed in the hallway when he was making his first slid. His hands going straight up making it clear he was actually having fun.

You both slid in opposite directions before your chest collided with one another. Both of your glorious laughs getting mixed with with one another’s. Your hands gripped his shoulders while his were around your waist trying to steady you.

His eyes flickered to your lips for a millisecond, just before lightly colliding them. It was a short and rushed kiss. Your noses being pressed against each other while your teeth felt as if they scraped together as well. He pulled back and tried to apologize for his sudden action, but you only gripped the back of his head. Bringing him down for another and much better kiss.

“If I knew sliding in our socks was gonna lead to this I would’ve joined hours ago.”

—

SICK DAY

The ache in your bones was practically killing you. The coldness you felt made you want to wrap yourself in your cocoon of blankets and never come out. You gave a bone chilling cough and tried to reach for another tissue. You cringed when the rough material made contact with your red, sensitive nose. It’s already been three days and you wished this stupid cold would leave you body alone.

“Here’s another ice pack and some water.” Hoseok softly spoke trying not to add more pressure to your headache. He rubbed your head with smooth strokes trying to feel for your fever. “You don’t feel as warm.”

“I feel just as bad as before.” You horse stated, while breathing though your mouth. If anything you just wanted to have your nose clear, because breathing through you mouth was a tricky and exhausting task. You placed the cold ice against your forehead and pulled the blankets back up to your chin. You eyes slightly got bigger when the covers were lifted while a warm body added more heat. “Hobi, you’ll get sick.”

“My immune system is strong, I’ll be fine.”

“You better not expect me to take care of you when you get sick.” Even though you said that you knew the moment a small sneeze even threaten to leave his nose, you’d be there within a second to make him feel better.