foamy water

Bruise [ V ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 9.4k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Bruise Masterlist

Originally posted by chanssoo

Bathes were supposed to be relaxing, everyone always said that they would be soothing to your aching muscles and wash away your problems. The water was warm against your freezing skin, the bubbles up to your chin and jostling whenever you moved your legs. The air was faintly filled with the sounds of cars driving by on the streets down below, the tires splashing in the puddles of leftover rain. The room was dimly illuminated, your wet hand glistening on the edge of the tub when the candle on the sink flickered patches of light onto your arm, giving it life when it felt so dull. Everything smelled like oranges and vanilla, your skin, your hair, even the bubbles threatening to spill over the edge of the porcelain. It all seemed relaxing, in theory. It was supposed to feel nice and like a reward after a long day, but in reality it was making you want to rip your hair from your scalp.

Because in the silent solitude all you could think about was Chanyeol.

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magic hands [wade wilson]

wade needs a bath. you’re a good friend.

tagging: @redgillan, @mattymattymerduck, @avengerofyourheart, @wakandasoldier, @darlingbuchanan, @bemystucky, @idorkish, @iwillbeinmynest, @aubzylynn, @angryschnauzer, @almondbuttercup, @ipaintmelodies

warnings: nudity, injury, also wade’s filthy mouth

additional notes: when is wade going to wife me already i love this trope so much, you have no idea. in this one the reader (gender-neutral) is a mutant mercenary who goes by the name “blueswift,” and your mutation is similar to a super soldier’s but not quite as potent. enjoy! and please let me know what you think UvU i love hearing from you guys. also: can y’all tell i really want omurice rn? i love writing about food.

You’d done it. You’d made the omurice, you were proud of the omurice, and you were going to eat the omurice like it was ambrosia from the heavens. You were sitting down at your little kitchen table, chopsticks in hand, ready to devour the warm, ricey gooeyness, when your phone rang, and the all-too-familiar saxophone solo of “Careless Whisper” filled the air. You answered the call, putting it on speaker so you could listen and eat. “Wade?”

“Y/N! The light of my life! God, it’s great to hear your voice. What’s cookin’, good-lookin’?”

“Eating breakfast actually,” you said around a mouthful of fried, eggy rice. “How’s your bod?”

“Well, at the moment, the bones are still soft, so I’m just one big, floppy man noodle.” There was a pause. “You know what, that was a terrible choice of words but I’m sticking to it. I’m a big, floppy man noodle who needs your help.”

You swallowed, smiling to yourself. “How so?”

“Well, this big, floppy man noodle would like to bathe—he’s been lying in his own filth for a good day or so—so he was hoping you could come over and help his big noodly ass into the tub.”

You sighed. Wade had survived his most recent solo job with nearly every bone in his body crushed. You’d somehow managed to drag his limp body back to his place, giving him as much morphine as he could handle. If he was in pain now, his voice didn’t let it on. “Do you need me to bathe you, too?” you asked, only half-joking. When he’d lost both arms in a fight last year, you’d had to wash him, but he’d agreed to cover his junk back then. He was even friendlier nowadays, and you didn’t know what he might ask next.

“Eh, I think a good soak alone would be good for me,” he drawled. “My arms are healing. It’s just the legs that need to catch up. I tried getting up and felt like Bambi. A big, naked, mutant Bambi.”

You frowned, setting your utensils down on the table. “Wade, I really don’t need that image in—”

“Like a scarred, fucked-up baby horse.”

Thank you, Wade,” you hissed, covering your eyes as if that would rid the disturbing images he’d managed to conjure in your mind with just his words.

“So you’ll come?”

You rubbed your face in exasperation. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

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Monsta X Reaction to: Bathing With You

I wasn’t sure if you meant this (bathing with you) or them bathing together, anon! Sorry if I guessed wrong :p

Shownu: Would be the most chill. He would comfortably cradle you to his chest, strong arms wrapping around you. Talking may be nice but he’s just as happy to bask in the ambiance, unwinding after the hard day with his baby.

Originally posted by wonkyuns

Wonho: Depending on his mood, he’ll either ravish you in the tub :^) or do silly things to make you laugh. He’ll stick out his tongue and make foamy beards, heart melting at the sight of your smile. He misses it when he’s away which makes him appreciate it so much more when he’s around.

Originally posted by kihyunmonstax

Minhyuk: Uses this as an opportunity to make up for lost time when he’s away. He’ll wash your hair, scrub the parts of your back you can’t reach and have deep conversation. “How was your week, jagi? Did anything interesting happen?”

Originally posted by wonhontology

Kihyun: Tries (and fails) to be sexy. Instead of turning you on he makes you cry from laughing after he almost slips while “seductively” climbing into the tub and hits his balls off the handle.

Originally posted by intoxicatingjae

Hyungwon: ”Fine, I’ll lay in dirty water with you but only if you wash my back!” Pretends you’re a perv for the suggestion but actually loves the scented candles, the foamy water and getting to relax with you. He’s just too tsundere to admit it lol.

Originally posted by kpopidolaegyooo

Jooheon: Wondering, ‘Can I look or not?? Is it considered rude? But why would I be invited in if I COULDN’T look?’ He overthinks the moment, not sure of your intentions.

Originally posted by wonyeols

I.M: Would be soft and shy. He’s not able to make eye contact, instead staring at each bubble in the tub. He feels like he’s going crazy. There’s so much he wants to do to you but all the romance is gone the second the tub squeaks when he moves. “Oh my goodness,” he groans.

Originally posted by livelovelunch

Like Silver Glass

Part Two to this Part One!

ITS FINALLY HERE! The much awaited second installment to the Merman!Bucky fic that was originally a drabble, then grew to become a series is finally updated haha! I’m truly sorry for making you all wait so long, I’ve been in a weird funk lately which is why none of my fics have been updated and why I’ve been pretty silent over messages! Forgive me? Anyway I hope you enjoy xx

{also this music vid was inspiration for this part xx}

Chapter II - Wet Sand, Dry Sand 

Something calls for you. 

The wind whispering through the open window washes over your hot skin, brushing sure fingers through your loose hair and kissing your sticky temple, pressing cool palms to your burning cheeks and caressing its invisible lips against your ears. There’s an elemental inhale and –

The world narrows then stills. 

Thick silence engulfs you, like your head slipping underwater; your eyes softly close at the esoteric sensation swirling in your chest – ink in water, magic in blood, staining your insides. Awakened by the touch of invisible tender fingers your soul floats to a place far away, below crashing waves and rocky cliffs, down down to secret depths of blue darkness. Only once you’ve reached this place, sense the yearning that throbs under the deceptive layer of quiet peace, only then does the wind sing it’s song to you.

Go to him, it lulls in your ears like waves lapping at the shore, Go to himGo to him…Come to me, the wind hushes now with a new twist in its tone, Come to me

From the clench of your heart you know that the voice the wind carries is his. Basking in the brilliant belonging of his call you open your eyes and know that your soul is no longer yours. You feel it, feel him, in the very core of your being. There’s an elemental inhale and –

You go to him.

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Grease pt. 1

Sirius Black x Reader

Request: OMG ok can you do a sirius x reader that’s like kinda based off grease where like basically the reader is super sweet and innocent and Sirius is Sirius (let’s be real here) but like they’re perfect for each other and through a little work everything is perfect and cute and yeah (maybe a little more grease related than i just described, if that makes sense?) this request might be a mess, I’m sorry. I trust your brilliance to make it great though!

A/N: 1) I was running out of inspiration but I’ve been sitting on this request forever so I wanted to get something out

2) idk why I used this gif of ben but he looks delicious so

Originally posted by teacupears

Sirius peers over his tinted glasses at the foamy water rising up and down the soft sand, enjoying the feel of the warm sun beating down on his already tanned back. He had managed to find a relatively quiet stretch of beach, free of loud families or screaming children. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, reveling in the silence.

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infinitemisfit33  asked:

Can you do a scenario where everyone (( including searan )) walking in and seeing s/o naked in the bath or shower by accident 😂😂


  • So Yoosung was playing LOLOL and you had mentioned you were going into the shower and he kind of dismissed it with a “yeah” and went back to gaming, not really hearing you
  • But whatever it’s not that important ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  • You were humming softly to yourself, washing some shampoo out of your hair while standing under the shower and you didn’t notice you forgot to lock the door
  • But Yoosung, trying to multitask by eating Honey Buddha Chips at the same time as playing LOLOL and noticed his fingers got really greasy 
  • Yoosung told his guild he’d be right back and took off his headphones, idly walking towards their shared bathroom, making a face as he looked at his hands
  • The blonde grabbed the handle and twisted it, hearing a faint sound, but dismissed it. He walked in the bathroom, blinking once, twice.You were in front of him, showering peacefully, water dripping down your nude figure, making it seem almost like a deity
  • Unfortunately for him, he gave away his presence by gasping
  • And then proceeds to apologize for being there
  • “Ohmygodohmygod I’m so sorry (Name)!! Please forgive me I’ll leave right now-”
  • The poor baby tries to leave but bumps into the door
  • You stared at him before laughing, opening the sliding door and walking out, skipping to the red faced Yoosung quickly before he left, gently tugging his hand before latching onto his arm, a mischevious grin on your face as you soaked his hoodie. 
  • “Superman Yoosung~ There’s a special once-in-a-lifetime mission! Will you accept it?” You teased, giving him a wink
  • Yoosung almost passed out. You were so close.. breasts and other… body parts touching him nearly drove him crazy. “U-Uhm..” He gulped loudly, licking his buttery lips. “I accept-”
  • You grinned and pulled him into the shower, closing the sliding door while Yoosung continued to stare at your naked body, himself being incredibly embarassed while you teased him, poking his red cheeks while he stood under the water.
  • “Come on~ Take off your clothes! We’re showering together now!”
  • “U-Uwaaaah! (Name)! Don’t- Ah! I got it, I got it! I’m taking it off now!”


  • He’d come back from rehearsal a bit later than usual’ tired of waiting you decided to relax and take a shower. Of course while doing so you decided to turn on some music. 
  •  Zen came back exhausted, quietly he walked inside the house, thinking you’d be asleep by now. Arriving near the bathroom he’d heard the music, wondering what could possibly be going on her opened the door “MC” he called slowly.  He immediately froze, seeing your naked body through the shower glass, the water slowly pouring down on your body, giving it a shiny texture. 
  • “Oh Zen” you said turning to him. Zen blushed from head to toes, he turned away apologizing a thousand times while closing the door, his heart racing. 
  • “I-I am so sorry!!” He stood in front of the door, holding his face between his hands. 
  •  Teasy as ever you decided to wrap a towel around your body, and sneak up behind him, hugging him from behind. “Welcome home, Hyun~” you whispered softly into his ear. It immediately sent a shiver down his spine, he loves it when you called him by his real name, even thought he’d never admit it before. 
  •  “How lucky am I to come home and see the love of my life being so affectionate hmm?~” he smiled turning around and hugging you back gently. 
  • Eventually you’d drop the towel to tease him, he would back away really flustered. “I- swear I didn’t see anything!” He’d said turning away. You’d chuckle and push him against the wall before pressing your lips on his. Both of you would head to the bedroom and have one happy night ;)


  • You tried to wait for her in the dining room but eventually realized you should take a bath yourself, since it was already past midnight.
  • This girl is so stressed when she got home giVE HER A BREAK JUMIN PLEASE and like all she needed was a nice bath while… working…ugh
  • She went to the bedroom and stripped, putting her glasses on the bed and wrapping a towel around herself, honestly like half asleep. 
  • You gently swished the warm water around you, a childish smile on your face until you heard the door open, a tired Jaehee appearing just then
  • “J-Jaehee! You’re home! But..” Your face turned a dark red. 
  • Jaehee rubbed her eyes, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to wake herself up a bit and then she realized. “O-Oh my, I’m so sorry (Name)!”
  • “Wait, Jaehee, you look really tired.” You said, putting an arm over your breasts. “Uhm.. maybe… I could take care of you in the bath?” You asked, a scarlet blush on your cheeks. “Please, you need to relax.”
  • Jaehee honestly wanted to hug and cry right now?? 
  • Give this woman some love please
  • After a minute of back and forth of “are you sure”s and “yes!!” Jaehee finally gave in and slowly began to sink into the water, the foamy bubbles nicely laying on her breasts as she sighed blissfully.
  • You were super flustered by being naked with Jaehee, though forced yourself to remain calm as you helped her bathe
  • At one point, Jaehee began to blabber on and on about Jumin’s bad habits of pushing things onto her, ranting on and on while you sat behind her, massaging her shoulders tenderly to relieve some of her tension.
  • “And then he deci-Ah~”
  • Your eyes went wide
  • Woah did Jaehee just moan because of the massage 
  • Oh okay good to know
  • “Feels good?”
  • “A bit to the right, please.” Jaehee breathed, blushing a bit, but she really loved feeling your hands work on her shoulders like that just imagine what it is in bed ;;;;;;;)))))))))


  •  You had woken up early this morning, Jumin was still asleep next to you, shirtless. Both of you had had a wonderful night (if you know what I mean ). 
  • Silently you headed to the huge bathroom, while doing so Elizabeth the 3rd would Miao at you. “Shhh” you’d replied. Finally you made it to the bathroom without waking him up, or so you thought. 
  • You had started the shower and stepped in directly since you were already undressed. The water felt a little cold on your burning body, you still felt Jumin’s heat. 
  •  After relaxing for about ten minutes under the shower, you had wrapped a high quality towel around your body and were about to head outside the bathroom. 
  •  When you opened the door, you saw Jumin, wearing a bathrobe half opened in front of you, his morning hair always amused you, it made him look incredibly sexy. (Not that he isn’t too sexy already)
  • “Oh I’m sorry did I wake you up Jumin?” You said softly. “Hmmm taking a shower without me huh?” He said with a raised eyebrow. “I - hmmm” you mumbled without finding what to say.
  • He took a few steps forward, making you step back and before you knew you were back inside the bathroom. He smirked slightly “Im guessing you’re going back in the shower, how kind of you MC” he replied. 
  • You blushed fifty shades darker (I did not intend this) and nodded. “Yes, jumin” you replied. He’d leave a soft kiss on your collarbone, while slowly removing your towel. 
  • After dropping his robe to the ground both of you had stepped back in the shower, he’d pin your arms over your head and passionately kiss you while the hot water filled the room with steam. (And the rest is censored ~)


  • Seven had been working for unholy hours now, dying of boredom and after reading three books, watched two movies and finished three seasons of your favorite show you decided to go relax in the bathtub. 
  • You poured yourself a warm bubble bath you’d step in after tying your hair up. You closed your eyes letting a small “hmmm~” as the warm water wrapped your entire body. 
  •  Tired, Seven finally stood up to go clean his face in the bathroom. He hadn’t noticed your presence when he stepped inside. He turned around sighing, exhausted. 
  •  “Heya seven” you said with a smile. “Oh hey there MC” he replied. A silence filled the room for a moment. “MC ?!?!?!?!” He said holding himself onto the wall, shocked. “I am so sorry I didn’t know you were here!?” He said flustered. 
  •  You couldn’t help but chuckled at his childish like behavior. “Seven zero seven, defender of justice, I have a mission for you! ” you said with a serious tone. “It seems that I have lost something in the water, could you find it for me?” You said with a tiny smirk. 
  •  “A-a mission…!? I, the almighty seven will find your lost item!” He said regaining his usual behavior. He stood in front of the tub, scanning the bubbles and attempting not to shove his hand into a part of the water that would lead to you body. 
  •  He slowly, searched the water, with a twinkle in your eye you violently pulled him inside the water, hugging him. “Ah! God 707! You’ve found what I lost!” You said with a chuckled. Seven blushed but couldn’t resist your embrace and hugged you back. 
  • “What am I going to do with you, I’ve told you before… I’m dangerous~” he kissed you lips. (I seriously need to stop with shower/bath sex ideas, I mean some young people could be reading right???)

(Kylie and I wrote this, since we aren’t familiar with all the mm boys yet. It’ll happen often, she’ll do Yoosung, Jaehee and probably Saeran while I do Zen, Jumin and Seven)

Unknown under the cut! (to see on the mobile app, use the airplane and copy the link, then open it in your browser!)

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Foodie Friday: Angel Food Cake with Elderflower Syrup

Image and Recipe Credit to

Warning: Please use caution whenever harvesting wild flowers, fruits, or herbs, and do not consume them unless you are absolutely certain that they are edible and safe. If there is even the slightest bit of doubt, please resort to purchasing the ingredient in a store or local apothecary for safety’s sake. 

Ingredients For Syrup:
-4 cups water
-4 cups sugar
-20 elderflower heads
-Skin and juice of 2 lemons

Ingredients for Cake:
-1 cup sifted cake flour
-1.5 cups superfine (castor) sugar
-14 large egg whites (at room temperature)
-1 tbsp room temperature water
-½ tsp salt
-1.5 tsp cream of tartar
-2 tsp pure vanilla extract


1. In a heavy saucepan, combine water and sugar and bring to a simmer over high heat, stirring occasionally until simple syrup is dissolved. Remove from heat and set aside.

2. Remove the elderflower heads from their stems, discarding the stems and placing the heads in a large heat-safe bowl. Add lemon skin and juice to bowl and pour simple syrup into bowl, stirring to combine.

3. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a towel and allow to sit at room temperature for at least 2 days and up to 4 days. Strain syrup through cheesecloth-lined sieve and discard solids. Syrup can be stored in an airtight container for several weeks.


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. With a fine sieve, sift together flour and ¾ cups sugar four times.

2. In the bowl of a stand mixer on medium speed, beat together egg whites and water until foamy. Add salt, cream of tartar, and vanilla; beat until soft peaks form. Increase speed to medium-high and sprinkle in remaining sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time. Beat until stiff but not dry. 

3. Transfer to a large bowl. In six additions, sift dry ingredients over meringue, folding in quickly but gently.

4. Pour batter into an ungreased 10-inch tube pan with removable bottom. Smooth top with an offset spatula. Run a knife through batter to release air bubbles. Bake for 35 - 40 minutes, until golden brown and springy to touch.

5. Invert pan on its legs or over the neck of a glass bottle and let cool completely, about an hour. Carefully run a long offset spatula or knife around the inner and outer perimeter of the pan to release cake. Place on a plate, bottom side up; cover with plastic wrap until ready to use.

9. Serve each slice with some elderflower syrup poured around the base, and whipped cream and berries on top.

Magical Ingredient!

Many of us are at least somewhat familiar with the iconic scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail in which French soldiers throw insults at King Arthur. “Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!”

Elderberry was and continues to be a favorite food in Europe and in certain areas of the United States, in varying forms from floral syrups and fried flowers to fermented elderberry wines (and elderberry preserves are simply divine when spread over buttered toast!). The elder tree, however, holds some long-standing symbolism when it comes to witchcraft and magic!

Historically speaking, elder is one of those trees that has straddled the line between a positive symbol and a negative symbol, depending upon what side of the line you were viewing it from - much like how yew was often associated with death from a Christian viewpoint but associated with protection and flexibility from a Norse perspective. In the case of elder, however, it had much more to do with the belief that elder trees were more often than not inhabited by spirits (comparable to the belief that there are spirits that inhabit Jericho roses).

In Celtic lore, elder has a particular link to the fae, as it was considered to be a guardian tree. Faeries would gather about the tree, and if one were to sleep beneath the elder’s branches, she would dream of the faerie realm of Tir na nOg. In pre-Christian Ireland, elder was a sacred tree held to such a high esteem that it was forbidden to break its twigs.

Perhaps one of the most well known legends regarding elder is the Danish Hyldemor, or Elder-Mother. The Elder-Mother was a spirit who lived within the tree who was respected for her healing and nurturing capabilities. Before approaching the tree to harvest the berries, flowers, or wood, it was a common practice to ask her permission with the promise of returning the favor in the next life: “Old Woman, give me some of thy wood and I will give thee some of mine when I grow into a tree.”

With the spread of Christianity, the tree’s association with spirits and faeries would take a dark turn, and elder would go from being a sacred, positive tree to being synonymous with evil and the devil. The Elder-Mother’s rather kind demeanor was twisted into that of a witch. Its red sap and hunched shape evoked the image of a hunched old witch who would bleed when cut, to English eyes. In Ireland, the tree went from being a guardian of Otherworld to being a tree whose branches were cut by witches and used as magic horses.

Furthermore, elder took a darker turn when (much like how the tomato was once associated with the forbidden fruit in Genesis) Christian legends associated elder with the crucifix and Judas’ suicide, as reflected in the carol of the Twelve Apostles:

The twelve apostles they were standing by,
Their roots in the river, and their leaves in the sky,
The beasts all thrive wherever they be.
But Judas was a-hunged on an elder tree.

Not everywhere in the British Isles was the tree feared, though, and it maintained some of its magical qualities. In Scotland, it was believed that if you stood under an elder tree during Samhain, you could witness the faery host riding by, and elderberries harvested on Midsummer’s Eve would confer magic powers. And in the Isle of Man, elder continued to be a home for elves and fae, which protected against witches and malevolent spirits if it grew just outside the front door.

Again in Scotland, elder would even have a positive association in Christian communities, as its twigs would be fashioned into a cross and hung over stables and barns to ward off evil spirits and hearse drivers would use elder-handled whips to banish negative influences.

Today, elder is regaining its positive associations thanks in part to its prolific production of flowers and fruits and in part to its place in ancient Celtic lore. It is a popular addition to Beltane floral rites, and its healing properties are being brought back into home remedies. For instance, the green sticks were said to be able to cure warts when rubbed on the affliction and then burnt, and elder twigs were believed to banish the evil spirits which caused toothaches. Today, its berries and flowers could be used to help alleviate cold and flu symptoms in herbal remedies.

Its associations with the fae make elder a wonderful tree for inviting faeries into the garden, or for honoring them on an altar with elderflower decorations and offerings. In kitchen magic, elderberry preserves, elderflower syrup and cordials, elderflower teas, et cetera, all can bring energies of prosperity and health to food. In addition, elder foods can be used as offerings or can be cooked and eaten as a way of connecting more with the fae or with one’s femininity.

Since elder has a strong association with banishing negative influence, elderflower infusions can be used as a liquid for asperging. Its wood and twigs can be fashioned into charms or amulets for various spells, its flowers and berries added to jars and bags, and the tree can be kissed or hugged to invite good fortune (if you’re not afraid of getting some strange looks from passerby, of course)!

Consider the role elder may play in your life, and how its sweet berries and lovely flowers can bring health and positive energy into your kitchen!

May all your meals be blessed! )O(

anonymous asked:

If you still need prompts to keep you sane maybe fluffy fantasy au enjoltaire? (Idk if you've seen the siren Enjolras and nymph grantaire posts but you can do something along those lines if you want it's up to you) thank you for literally everything you've written because it's amazing and thanks in advance!

I have indeed seen (and loved!) @stopcallingmeapollo‘s myth au! Which actually made it rather a puzzle to come up with my own… But that gave me an excuse to daydream about folklore for days, so thank you so much anon, for your incredibly kind words as well! I hope you’ll like this <3

( @petalparnassee you have given me fresh Scottish lore and now look what happened:)

Grantaire is lying on his stomach on a flat rock that rises just above sea level, his lower half still comfortably in the foamy water. It’s early in the morning yet, the wisps of mist that drew  from the sea towards the shore have barely dissolved. Through the faint haze that is still left Grantaire sees a shape approaching. It’s a black stallion and the gate of his hooves is like poetry itself. Blinking lazily Grantaire watches him approach the shore. He is too familiar with the elegant movements and the proud demeanour to be impressed. The cobbles on the beach skit away or are trampled under the gleaming black hooves and the horse charges straight into the water. Grantaire doesn’t bother to watch the proud head disappear underneath the waves. A moment later there’s a splash of water beside the rock he is resting on and two pale hands grip the edge. Montparnasse pulls himself up out of the water, his dark hair wet and slick against his head.

“Show off,” Grantaire hums.

“Good morning to you too,” Montparnasse snarks. He sits down with his legs crossed.

In the grey light of morning his skin looks even paler than it is, but Grantaire knows the lighting doesn’t matter. Montparnasse will always be annoyingly beautiful.

His grey eyes are staring of into the distance. “I saw someone walking towards the shore,” he says nonchalantly.

Grantaire makes an exasperated sound. “I swear, if I have to rescue one more of your stupid victims I’m telling Jehan.”

Montparnasse makes a tutting sound. “This one isn’t really my type,” he says airily.

“That’ll be a first,” Grantaire grunts. He splashes his heavy tail in the water, making Montparnasse glare.

He ignores the insult however and continues casually: “Too blonde for a start… To loud… To interested in you.”

Grantaire gulps and nearly rolls off the rock.

Montparnasse’s distinctive kelpie laugh sounds loud and neighing across the water.

Enjolras is on his way here?” Grantaire splutters. “Why didn’t you just say that, you ass.”

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Worlds Collide - A Sirius Black Imagine

Originally posted by pretty-dead-dog

Okay, I know I promised a part two for ‘The Last of Us’ but I thought about that one earlier tonight and I had to write it before losing the momentum, ha! But don’t you worry, I’ll post part two tomorrow night.

I hope you’ll like it anyway ! :) 


It’s dark and cold, you’re trying to see something in the blackness, but your eyes can’t see any light. It’s pitch black and there’s only the sound of the rain to make you realize that you are standing outside. You can feel the rain falling on your shoulders but it’s like it wasn’t really there. You’re not even wet; it’s just a décor, an accessory. And there’s this rumbling, incessant, continuous above your head. Is it thunder you’re hearing or is it the sound of fear increasing in your head? You can’t tell the difference. Only, you know you stand-alone and there’s no one else to save you from yourself. You’ve been there so many times, there’s no saving. You could just open your eyes but you know it doesn’t work this way. You have to face it first. 

The growling is getting nearer and you body starts to shake with apprehension. Will it get you this time?
Each night for the past twelve years, you’ve been asking yourself the same thing.
Is this one will be it?
With the growling comes the thunder’s rumbling.
A violent strike of white light illuminates the night and for a moment, you can see the surroundings. To your left, a whole row of enormous trees, aligned in a perfect way.
But you can’t look to your right. You know when you’ll turn your head; you’ll se the beast’s silver eyes staring at you. There’s another strike of lightning and this time, you can’t miss it. It saw you.
The hound starts walking slowly towards your immobile body. You wish you could wake up right now, but it never goes this way.
‘I’m sorry’ you mutter.
But it walks to you. It’s prey.
A row of pointed teeth, of dangerous hooks is shining in the night. It’s facing you now.
The black hound growls with hunger. It’s ready to rip you up.
‘I tried everything, I’m so sorry’ you say again.
But it can’t hear you.
There’s too much thunder.
You see the hound starting running after you and the moment you put your hands in front of you to protect yourself…

You open your eyelids at the same time you are screaming of fear.
You can feel the tears rolling from your eyes. You’re covered in sweat and you’re panting.
Again. You had this nightmare a thousand times and you still can’t manage to cope with it. You wipe down your tears and look to the window. There’s a thunderstorm outside. That’s what has probably triggered it.
You put your two feet on your bedroom floor, knowing perfectly it’s going to be a sleepless night, again.
Over the years, you tried everything, any Muggle medication to every spell known in the Magical world. None worked. You’re stuck with the same recurrent nightmare.
They told you it was going to pass. That it was just a phase.
You’d feel less guilt with time.
But you know that this isn’t guilt. It’s shame.
You glance at the clock. Maybe you can make yourself a cup of tea to calm you down. It’s only half past three. You could try to get some sleep on the couch, at least. 

You walk to the kitchen and put the kettle on.
A warm tea should do it. That’s your trick now. The time you’re focusing on the hot liquid you can’t think about the beast hungry for your blood.
You close your eyes as the thunder strikes outside. You used to love thunderstorms when you were younger. But now it paralyses you.
‘I’m fine’ you say to yourself.
There’s another strike of lightning that makes you jump with fear. You walk slowly to the plate glass door leading in your small backyard. The sky is completely covered with threatening clouds.
Out of a sudden, your eyes are appealed by a shadow in the back of your yard. Your heart accelerates considerably. You jump back and try to pinch yourself.
‘Wake up, wake up, wake up!’ you shout but yet you feel so awake right now.
You know the shadow’s getting nearer the door. You can’t be hallucinating; you know you’re not dreaming anymore!
Or are you going crazy?

The kettle’s hissing stridently behind you but you can’t move.
There’s a flash of lightning and you see it.
It’s the hound. With it’s silver eyes and white pointy hooks.
‘Go away!’ you shout.
You forgot your wand in your bedroom but you can’t move.
‘Please’ you add, while the beast is standing in front of your porch.
There are tears all over your face right now.
‘Please…’ you plead again.
But it doesn’t go away. You close your eyes wishing it is going to go away. You let a whole minute before opening them up again. And when you do…
There’s no hound anymore. There’s no beast.
There’s a man standing in front of the door. Or what a man could be. He looks more like a shadow, a ghost maybe.
His emaciated and pale face is covered with dark, dirty and messy hair.
He is so thin it’s scary.
You would think you didn’t know him. But you dare looking into his eyes. It’s the same as the hound. Those silver eyes are begging you.
You feel yourself gasping. But you don’t know if you can walk and open the door for him.
It simply can’t be him. Is your mind is messing with you?
You see him opening his mouth. You can see a row of filthy teeth.
He looks like he’s saying your name.
He put his hand on the door, like he is trying to find some balance.
Few seconds after, you see him rolling his eyes and he falls on the ground.
The kettle’s hissing loudly now but you don’t care. You run to the door and open it. You pull the man’s skinny body inside your house. He’s completely drenched in rain. And he is so dirty your hands slips a couple of times on his skin, making it harder for you to put him safe from any harm.
He lies on the floor and his clothes are completely wrecked.
You bend down to look at him.
‘Sirius?’ you whisper.
He doesn’t answer. You get up and put the kettle off. It’s total silence now. You open up the refrigerator and grab a leftover of meat pie. You don’t have time to heat it. You find a bottle of pumpkin juice and open it.
You get back to the immobile body.
‘Sirius, wake up, please’ you say. 

He opens up his eyes. He stares blankly at you.
‘Here, drink this’ you tell him. You lay his head on your hand and help him drink from the bottle. With an eager thirst, he drinks without taking a break to breathe.
You hand him the meat pie. He takes it quickly and put it all in his mouth.
‘Easy’ you say, but you know it’s useless.
Once he’s done, you both look at each other without speaking. You see him shivering. He must be so cold.
‘Follow me’ you tell him.
You show him your hand and unsure, he takes it.
You enter the bathroom. A bath. He needs a warm bath.
You start to run the water and fill the tub with some nice foam. He looks at it blankly, like he doesn’t remember what to do.
‘Let me help you’ you suggest, stepping in front of him.
He doesn’t move. He’s lost.
You pull his dirty stripped shirt off and toss it on the floor.
You look at his upper body. You can distinguish his starved figure. The ribcage is visible under his thin skin. You gasp and you feel tears running to your eyes again.
But you need to be strong for the both of you.
You free him from the bottom of his prisoner’s uniform and help him get into the bathtub.
‘There you go’ you say gently.
You can already see that he shakes less. He’s warming up already. 

‘Let me go grab some warm clothes, okay? I’m coming back in a minute.’
You run into your bedroom, where, half an hour ago, you woke up from your usual nightmare. You open up your drawers and find some clothes that are going to fit him. Anyway, he’s so skinny, anything you own could fit now. This only thought sets you in despair.
You go into the kitchen and grab a pair of scissors.
When you come back into the bathroom, he’s still motionless, half emerged in the foamy water.
You grab a cloth and put some soap on it. You start rubbing his neck with it.
‘Nice isn’t?’ you say.
You continue to wash him up, rubbing the warm cloth on every inch of skin that is filled with Azkaban’s dirt.
‘Lay down your head for me, will you?’ you tell him.
He lets you wash his long hair and you apply yourself to the task. It’s so messy; you’re going to have to cut it.
You rinse the wreck away and try to comb trough it.
‘I’ll have to cut it a bit. I’ll keep it nice and long like you used to have, alright?’ you suggest with a warm smile.
He always was so proud of his dark mane.
You run the scissors through the length and you cut everything that isn’t manageable.
‘I left you a razor on the counter and here, there’s a towel. I put you some clean and warm clothes next to the sink. I won’t be far, okay?’
He nods. It’s the first time he looks like he understands you.
You get out of the bathroom. Once you’re in the hall, you push your back on the wall and slid it until you’re sitting on the floor. Tears are flowing rapidly.
How could he be treated so awfully?
How could the man you loved become this corpse looking ghost?
You decide you’re going to wait in the kitchen and prepare some food again. He needs food in his system.
There’s jam somewhere.
Finally, Sirius enters the kitchen. He shaved a lot of beard and in your old Hogwarts Quidditch gear, he looks almost like he did seventeen years ago, when you first laid eyes on him. Except, there’s something in his eyes, something dark and melancholic. He looks lost, like he’s living in the back of his mind. 

How could you live such a peaceful existence for all the time he suffered alone?
‘Hungry?’ you say.
He nods.
‘That was stupid to ask. Of course you’re hungry.’
You bring him some slices of bread and jam.
‘Sirius, talk to me, please.’
He swallows loudly. You wait patiently.
‘What happened? How can you be here?’
But he takes another mouthful of bread.
‘Sirius!’ you shout, feeling completely overwhelmed.
He just puts his hand on yours.
He needs time. That’s what he means.
‘Come and get some sleep’ you say.
You tuck him on your bed and look at his frail body lost in the sheets. When you’re about to leave him, he grabs your arm tightly.
‘Stay’ he says in a croaked voice.
Hearing the sound of it makes you feel weak. How many times did you wish to hear him say anything just one last time?
You smile with sadness and lay beside him. He surrounds your body with his skeletal arms.
This time, you won’t have any nightmares.

Met By Moonlight [One-Shot]

@daaialove Requested: Hello. I love your blog so much! It feels so good that I’m not alone in my akward adoration for these two. Dare I ask you to write something about them dating in a beach (swimming together in the sea at night maybe)? I read your stuff, you’re such an artist!

OOC: Thank you so much, it means a lot to us that you’re enjoying our work!!! This was SUPPOSED to be fluffy I don’t know what happened. If you want something a little lighter feel free to request again lol.

This fic is not NSFW but it does get intimate and has mild mentions of nudity so read at your own discretion

“C’mon, love. Keep up!” Harry grinned over his shoulder, pushing his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes. Uma glared at him, clearly panting and equally sweaty under her typical layers of pirate garb. They’d been hiking for HOURS through what little untouched wildness remained on the Isle, upon Harry’s insistence.

He’d been planning this for years; a vague dream he never thought possible until two days ago when some wooden beams in the chip shop finally rotted through and threatened to tear the whole place down. They’d had to close for repairs, and Uma was free to trek across the Isle with him for at least one day.

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With You

“I can’t do this without you”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: you and bucky have been friends with benefits for close to a year. An unexpected surprise causes problems.

Word count: 3.2k

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

Everything had been going fine.

Sure things were getting more complicated as feelings developed but that was always going to happen at some point. Friends with benefits was never simple and ended in heartbreak the majority of the time.

The two of you were still good friends. When you were with everyone else nothing seemed different. It was when he creeped into your room at two o’clock in the morning kissing your neck that things became unconventional.

Bucky still wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship whether it was with you or any other woman. He felt damaged and unstable but was able to find an escape with you.

He would come to you if he was upset, angry or feeling lonely. It was probably unhealthy, using each other for sex as a form of escapism. Late at night or midday you were there for him, and him there for you although most of the time it was Bucky who was vulnerable and in need of release.

It had started as a joke. You had both been stood in the kitchen whilst everyone else slept. Neither of you had been able to sleep, Buck commenting that he needed to blow off some steam to tire himself out. You teased that only sex would do the job, an hour later you had decided it wasn’t a half bad idea and you were pinned against the countertop desperately tugging on Bucky’s hoodie.

You ended up coming up with different excuses to get into Bucky’s bed until the agreement was made.

Just sex. Always consensual. To be kept a secret, no exceptions. The friendship would remain.

You had never been best friends. Bucky was still as reserved as ever but after a few months at the compound he became more open with you. He could crack jokes and spend hours talking with you, telling you about his childhood whilst you filled him in on the latest celebrity gossip and recent football scores.

All of that was still the same despite a year of fucking, still unknown to the others.

The attraction had been there from the start.

You remembered the first time you saw him, Natasha joking for you to close your mouth and stop staring. He was mesmerising. Bucky was indiscrete with the way he checked you out as well, Steve smirking at the obvious sexual tension between his two closest friends.

Bucky had made it clear that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He believed he was damaged goods to which you always reminded him of his worth and importance. One day he’d be ready but Bucky was still fragile and you had to respect that.

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Cutie Pie You Make Me Smile

To celebrate my 500 Followers I wrote this fluffy One-Shot for you. Enjoy and thank you all for supporting me ♥♥♥

Summary: You’re having a bad day and Bucky makes it his mission to cheer you up.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff

Word Count: 1729


You hate feeling this way. From time to time the depressions take the upper hand and you just felt like shit, but Bucky was the best boyfriend you could have wished for when you’re having one of those bad days. He was caring, understanding and did everything he could to make you feel comfortable, loved, and most of all not alone.

First when you started a relationship with him, you tried to hide your depressions from him, feeling ashamed of being weak and misunderstood. Bucky, as an ex-assassin, quickly found out about your condition and showered you with love and affection. Promised you he would always be there for you, not matter what. He told you he fell in love with you from the very first time he led eyes on you and he loved you wholeheartedly, all of you.

You woke up this morning feeling depressed, not even thinking of getting out to bed. You only wanted to hide under the blanket and stay in bed all day. You were just about to turn around, pressing your face into the soft pillow, when suddenly strong arms, one flesh, one metal, cuddled you against a firm chest. “Good morning, love.” Bucky’s still sleepy voice made a smile appear on your lips.

You only hummed, pressing your body more against the warmth of Bucky’s. He peppered your face with kisses, rubbing your back soothingly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

It was simply amazing that he always knew when you would have one of your bad days. He made sure to shower you with affection, making it his mission to bring a smile on your face. Last time he prepared a picnic in Central Park for you, took you out for a romantic dinner afterwards and lay with you under the night sky, on the roof of the Avengers Tower, for star-gazing.

“How about you sleep for a while longer, love. I’m gonna wake you up when breakfast is ready.” Bucky gave you a kiss on the lips. You gripped his shirt, kissing him a second time, before he could move out of the bed. “I love you, Bucky.” You mumbled against his soft lips. “I love you too, baby girl.”


You were slightly shaken awake by Bucky placing a loving kiss on your forehead. “Time to wake up, sleepy head.” He gave you a cup of freshly brewed coffee, served in your favourite cup. The one he bought the first time you celebrated your anniversary as a couple. He actually bought two cups, because they were supposed to be for couples, two perfect fitting counterparts. Along with the cups, he even got you matching couple sweatshirts, because you always stole his and this way you would proudly wear your own all the time.

On your sweatshirt written was Bucky’s girlfriend, while on his was [Y/N]’s boyfriend. Bucky totally was into the whole matching couple stuff, which you found incredibly cute. Who would have thought the former Winter Soldier was in reality a giant big hearted teddy bear?!

“Come on, sweetheart. Breakfast is waiting in the kitchen. Aaaand…” Bucky smiled with glowing eyes, clearly happy and excited. “…after breakfast we’re gonna make some cupcakes!”

You almost choked on your coffee. “Bucky, you never made cupcakes before and me neither.” “I know!” He cheered. “This is gonna be so much fun!” You couldn’t help but smile at his good mood.


Baking cupcakes with Bucky was indeed fun, but it all ended in a disaster. When you both finished decorating them all and were about to try each one of them, you spit everything out you had in your mouths. “Bucky! You mixed up salt and sugar!” You screamed, face twisted  in disgust, the taste still evident on your tongue. Bucky’s face was priceless. It was a mixture of a kicked puppy and a distasteful grimace. You bursted out laughing and Bucky followed your example straightaway.

“I’m sorry, doll. I really didn’t mean to screw up the cupcakes.” You kissed him on the cheek, putting your arms around his neck. “Don’t be. You distracted me and made me forget about my depression. You’re the sweetest boyfriend.”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” Bucky asked pouting like a little child. “I could never be mad at you, Bucky.” You responded sincerely. “Luckily for me, baking cupcakes wasn’t my only surprise for you today. Give me a few minutes.” Bucky was already walking hastily out of the kitchen. “Babe, you don’t need to.” You yelled after him.

“You know I would do it anyway, doll.” He hollered back. “Yeah, I know.” You muttered thankfully only for yourself to hear. You wondered everyday, what you did to deserve such an astounding man. You knew with all your being you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You would be the luckiest, most happiest girl in the whole wide world, walking down the aisle to marry Bucky, starting a family with him, growing old together.

Before you got the chance to sink further into daydreams of your future with Bucky, he came back. He gripped your left hand with his metal one, blow a kiss onto the back and guided you through your shared bedroom into the bathroom.

The bathroom was only illuminated by candles, evenly distributed around the bathtub. Red rose petals were floating in the foamy water on the surface. The bathroom smelled like vanilla, making you instantly relax at the familiar scent.

Bucky kissed your neck and was just about to leave the bathroom, when you stopped him by grabbing his elbow. “Where do you think you’re going?” You asked curiously. “Well I thought I would leave you alone to unwind properly.” “Strip, dork. You’re getting in with me. No back talk!” You turned around, discarding your clothes in no time, not even looking behind you, if Bucky did the same. You stepped into the warm soothing water, sitting down, a pleasured sigh leaving your lips.

The water swashed slightly, as Bucky got into the tub behind you. He pushed your back close against his muscular chest, putting his arms around you and kissing your temple. You closed your eyes, releasing the tension in every one of your muscles. You intertwined your hands with Bucky’s in the front of your stomach, laying your head on his right shoulder, smiling satisfied.

You and Bucky didn’t exchange a word, you didn’t need to speak to understand the other. This peaceful moment between the two of you was too perfect to be disturbed with talking. You stayed in the bathtub until the water got cold. After you and Bucky dried off, he directed you only wrapped up in a towel to the bed.

“Lay down, [Y/N]. I’m gonna give you a massage.” Bucky whispered in your right ear, letting his lips wander down over your delicate neck, touching your skin only lightly with his lips.

“You don’t…” Bucky muted you with a kiss on your lips. “I want to. I know you can sleep better after I give you a massage. So come on, doll. You know there is no point in arguing with me anyway. I’m stubborn as a mule.” He chuckled.     
Another smile made itself evident on your face as you laid down on your stomach. You folded your arms under your head to use them as a pillow, while Bucky lathered massage oil on your back.

Moans left your lips, every time Bucky kneaded a particularly hard knot out. While Bucky continued the massage, you must have felt to sleep. You woke up when you felt him getting under the covers beside you, cuddling you tight against his side. “Bucky?” You whispered, sleep evident in your voice. “Yes, love?” “I love you so much. How can you still not be bugged by me and my mood swings? Every single time you do everything in your power to cheer me up. You have so much baggage already and still you bother to help me with my depressions. Why?”

Bucky lay his metal fingers under your chin, lifting it up to make you look right into his bright blue eyes. All you could see in them was love. “You know why I bother to help you with your depressions? Because I. love. you. I love you with all your mood swings. I love you on your good days. I love you on your bad days. And I will always do everything I can to make you smile. Because when you smile, [Y/N], you make me fall in love with you all over again. When you smile you make my day brighter. When you smile you push my nightmares a little bit further back. When you smile I know I did something right. That I am still, somewhere inside of me, a good man. The person I used to be. Because when someone as pure as yourself smiles because of me, then I believe there is still hope for me. And that’s why I will keep putting a smile on your beautiful face as often I can. And when it comes to me, I will continue making you smile for the rest of our lives.”

Out of nowhere Bucky held a black square box in his metal hand. My eyes already were full of tears as a loud gasp escaped me at the elegant golden ring in front of me. On top of the ring were three diamonds. A big one in the middle, surrounded by two smaller ones on either side of it. “[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], I can’t imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. There are many ways to be happy in this life, but all I really need is you. When I look into your eyes, I can see a reflection of the two of us and the life I hope we’ll share together. And when I see your smile, I know my life will never be complete without you beside me to share it. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Thousand times yes! I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You both kissed passionately, before falling to sleep in each other’s arms. Tomorrow beginning a brand new day with new challenges, but also starting a new life together as one.             

Well, I hope you all like it! Let me know what you think about it.
Feel free to message me anytime! I love to hear from you ♥♥♥

TAGS: @belleetlabeast

The First Day

Shiro wakes choking. He lurches onto his side and urgently coughs up seawater, his lungs and throat burning as he struggles to breathe. His head is splitting and the hot sun is beating down on him, making him feel dizzy and nauseous. He raises a shaky artificial hand to try to shield his tearing eyes against it.

Everything is bright, too bright, blurry and bright. He groans and tries to sit up. Almost immediately he vomits more murky seawater onto the fine white sand before him. “Gross,” he grunts hoarsely, wiping his mouth on the damp cuff of his sleeve and carefully laying back down and curling up onto his side.

He feels a little better now. The ringing in his ears begins to recede as his vision clears. Slowly, the fuzzy landscape resolves itself into a long strand of tropical beach. Shiro exhales a long shaky breath, wincing slightly at the throbbing in his temple.

He swallows a little queasily and gingerly touches the fingers of his left hand to the spot, since he can’t actually feel anything with his right, they come away streaked with blood. He groans, screwing his eyes shut in exasperation. Great, just what he needs, another scar.

Where is he, anyway?

He’s supposed to be in Hawaii right now with Matt. Only, there isn’t a Matt anymore, well not for him. They broke up two months ago, because of Shiro’s “commitment issues.” He seems to recall Matt’s exact words were unfeeling bastard with a heart as numb and cold as his dead right hand. That had hurt, but Shiro didn’t feel right about arguing the point, not after what happened.

They’d been dating for over a year, and Matt, quite reasonably, had wanted to take their relationship to the next level. He’d wanted them to move in together. Shiro had balked. Matt didn’t understand why, after all Shiro did love him right? Shiro froze, and that’s when they’d both realized he’d never actually said the words.

So, say them now! Matt had demanded and Shiro had wanted to, so badly. Anything to ease the wounded look on Matt’s face.

And yet I’m sorry, was the only thing he’d seemed able to say.

So Shiro found himself alone again.

Sometimes he wondered if he would ever find whatever it was he was searching for. If it even existed at all.

He opens his eyes. Did he fall asleep? A slender pair of bare legs are kneeling in front of him and gentle yet efficient fingers are massaging something cool and soothing into his bleeding scalp.

“Hello…?” he murmurs wearily, his voice shredded from hacking up salt water.

A face swims into view, tilted downward to regard Shiro with mild curiosity. Shiro startles at the delicate almost elfin features and dark violet eyes staring back at him. An odd feeling of déjà vu paints his skin in sudden goosebumps. “Do I… know you?” he asks, his brow wrinkling in bemusement.

The face disappears, though the gentle ministrations continue, lulling Shiro into a strange sort of twilight sleep.

He dreams of the plane. The single functioning engine had cut out just before it hit the water and the buckling cabin was swallowed up in inky blackness. The other passenger’s screams vanished in a swirl of dark crushing water. Shiro hadn’t been screaming. Maybe this was the universe’s way of punishing him for what he’d done to Matt, he’d thought. It was stupid, he knew, but their vacation had already been paid for, so he’d decided to take it alone. Both to clear his own head and to spare Matt the pain of having to see him everyday in class. Now no one would ever see him again. Maybe that was exactly what he deserved.

His robotic arm had been pressed up against the window, so he’d used it to get out. There was no thought behind the decision, just instinct, a way to escape the claustrophobic space. He’d thought for a fleeting moment that maybe he could rescue some of the others as well, but the plane had disappeared in an instant, plunging further into the murky depths, and Shiro was suddenly hopelessly alone in the pitch black water. He couldn’t tell which way was up, caught in a vortex of turbulent currents and spiraling debris. The plane had begun to break apart. Something heavy and unyielding hit him and he blacked out.

He wakes somewhere else. The sun is no longer beating down on him and the air is pleasantly cool and tinged with a hint of salt. The throbbing pain in his head has subsided, replaced by weariness and a soothing numbness spreading across his scalp. He gingerly presses his fingers to the wound and finds some sort of dried paste covering it. The rhythmic sound of nearby waves crashing against a rocky coastline fills his ears. It’s oddly soothing, like the white noise machines people sometimes use to lull themselves to sleep.

A cool hand touches his cheek and Shiro’s eyes shift to the same face he saw on the beach earlier. That sense of recognition comes over him again, a strange mixture of relief and something else, something foreign. Something Shiro’s never felt before. He can’t put a name to it. “Hello,” he says pushing it from his mind. He smiles weakly. “It’s good to see you again. I was afraid I might have hallucinated you.”

The young man, Shiro estimates his age at a year or two younger than himself, doesn’t answer. He tilts his head slightly, his intense violet eyes narrowing for a moment as he studies Shiro’s face. He brushes the long dark hair from his eyes and helps Shiro sit up with gentle hands, though Shiro can feel the surprising strength in them as well. Surprising for someone so small and whippet thin that is. He doesn’t seem undernourished though, Shiro notes, just lean. Wiry muscles flex easily beneath his pale skin. He’s also totally naked and completely devoid of body hair, which is kind of… weird frankly.

Shiro awkwardly shifts his focus onto his surroundings, which turns out to be a shallow limestone cave. He eyes the grooved walls of blue-gray rock looming over him, worn smooth by years of water erosion, though the space seems dry enough now. The shelf of rock he’d been laying on is covered in a soft blanket of green moss, creating a fairly comfortable sleeping space. The cave ends in an oblong crevice that opens onto the sea below. Every so often, a wave crashes with enough force to send foamy white water spraying past the opening.

“Where… are we?” Shiro asks, squinting past the crevice to the crashing waves below. The young man gives him that look again, his brow knitting slightly as if he’s trying to grasp the meaning behind Shiro’s words. “You don’t speak English, do you,” Shiro says. It’s not a question. The young man stares at him a moment longer then abruptly stands. Shiro hastily averts his gaze to avoid staring at his naked ass.

He sighs, feeling slightly more alone than he did a few minutes ago. Are there such things as deserted islands in this day and age? Shiro seems to recall that there may be, though he thinks it may have more to do with land rights, or inhospitable climates than uncharted territories these days.

In the end you’re still stranded in a completely isolated area with little to no contact with the outside world though, so really what’s the difference?

He swallows as the young man sidles over to him, pressing what feels like a rough cup into his hand. Actually it’s an abalone shell, Shiro discovers when he looks down. The rainbow mother-of-pearl interior reflects in the fresh water filling it. “Thank you!” Shiro gasps gratefully and quickly gulps it down. So there’s a fresh water source nearby, good to know.

The young man smiles, his dark violet eyes turning indigo in the shifting sunlight. Shiro finishes his drink with an awkward gulp, suddenly keenly aware of how close they are to each other. He makes a conscious effort to focus on the young man’s face, noting for the first time that his eyes seem too old somehow. A lifetime’s worth of pain and loneliness seems to be reflecting back at him, and Shiro feels suddenly guilty for feeling sorry for himself. “Are you all alone here?” he asks.

“All alone here,” the young man echoes, startling Shiro, though there’s no comprehension behind the words. He’s just parroting what Shiro is saying. Fast learner though, Shiro thinks, smiling wanly. The young man returns the smile. Shiro has so many questions and no way to find the answers. The scientist in him wants to scream.

“Let’s start with something simple then,” he says aloud. “What’s your name?”

The young man just stares at him blankly.

“Mine’s Shiro,” he offers. The young man’s brow knits slightly and Shiro places his hand on his chest. “Shiro,” he repeats. He points at his own face, “Shiro.”

“Shiro,” the young man says softly.

Shiro nods. “That’s right,” he says, “my name’s Shiro.”

“Shiro,” the young man says a bit more confidently. He seems to understand.

“And you are?” Shiro asks, indicating him with a sweep of his artificial hand.

The young man’s eyes move from Shiro’s outstretched hand to Shiro’s face then back to his hand again.

Shiro frowns. He presses his hand to his chest again. “Shiro,” he says and points at the young man expectantly, but all he does is stare at Shiro as if he just fell out of a tree.

Shiro sighs and scrubs his face. “Guess this is gonna be harder than I thought,” he says softly.

Could it be he doesn’t know his own name?

Judging from his total ignorance of basic social conventions such as clothing, and the lack of any language skills, Shiro theorizes he’s been stranded here for some time, probably since he was a small child. Shiro’s heart goes out to him, even as the more calculating portion of his brain reminds him that doesn’t exactly say much for his own chances of rescue. Then again, if this young man’s been here since early childhood, it’s entirely possible he hasn’t been actively searching for a way to leave. He may not even be aware that there’s anything else out there.

“Well, I can’t exactly go around calling you naked-guy,” Shiro says thoughtfully, “so how about I give you a name. Just until you can tell me yours. Say nothing if that’s okay with you,” Shiro says dryly.

Not surprisingly, the young man says nothing.

Shiro smiles wanly. “Okay,” he says, shaking his head, “how about… Keith,” he says, saying literally the first name that pops into his head. It might have something to do with the fact that he was briefly obsessed with Keith Moon as a kid, because his last name was Moon. If his last name had been dinosaur, Shiro probably would’ve built some sort of shrine to him. He presses his hand to his chest again, “Shiro.”

“Keith,” the younger man responds, pressing a hand to his own chest with a shy smile.

Shiro smiles back. “Pleased to meet you, Keith,” he says.  

The sun dips below the crevice, bathing the cave in misty twilight. Shiro wonders how quickly the limestone walls lose heat without the sun’s rays to warm them. “Aren’t you cold?” he asks and Keith just blinks at him. “You don’t have a lot of meat on your bones, the lack of natural insulation must make it uncomfortable for you at night. Here,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt, “put this on.”

He quickly shrugs out of his once white shirt, which is now stained pink at the collar and left shoulder due to his formerly bleeding scalp. He drapes it over Keith’s shoulders. Keith freezes, his eyes wide and his shoulders slumped as if Shiro just encased him in a blanket of iron. It reminds Shiro of the way cats react when their owners dress them up for the internet.

“You’ll get used to it,” Shiro says, chuckling wryly. “Put your arms through the sleeves.” He leans forward and tugs the shirt open by the lapel to make the sleeve opening more accessible. Reluctantly, Keith slides his arm into it. They repeat the maneuver on the other side, then Shiro buttons the shirt since he guesses, rightly as it turns out, that Keith won’t know what to make of them.

Keith stares darkly at him, his arms held stiffly at his sides. His compact body is completely lost inside Shiro’s overflowing shirt. The sleeves are about three inches too long. He scowls and indignantly starts flapping his trapped hands in Shiro’s face. Shiro laughs. He unbuttons the cuffs and rolls them up to Keith’s elbows.

“How’s that?” he asks and Keith smiles, curiously fingering the plastic buttons on the front of the shirt. He switches to inspecting the material after a moment, pinching it between his slender fingers, then his otherworldly eyes shift to Shiro’s face, his brow knitting in silent concern.

“Don’t worry about me,” Shiro says mildly. “I run pretty hot because of this,” he says tapping his artificial arm with a flesh and blood finger. His internal temperature hovers somewhere between 99 and 100 degrees. Too warm to be bothered by most climate fluctuations. The prosthetic is also why he started strength training. The cyber components burn up a lot of energy. Shiro’s surgeon suggested increasing his muscle mass as a way to maintain his body’s natural energy reserves.

Keith silently eyes Shiro’s artificial arm, his gaze fixated on the line of puckered skin where the prosthetic is grafted to Shiro’s flesh. “It’s okay,” Shiro says softly, “you can touch it. It doesn’t hurt.” It doesn’t now anyway. Shiro decides to spare Keith the gruesome details of the multiple surgeries he’s had over the years. The final one being just over a year ago when he’d reached his full height and a permanent replacement could be safely grafted onto his no longer growing bones.

Keith comes closer, crawling over on his hands and knees and rocking back onto his heels. Their faces are inches apart. Shiro tries not to fixate on how fetching Keith looks in his shirt. He smells of the sea, of saltwater and ocean breezes. It’s not at all unpleasant. Keith’s cool fingers ghost across the raised white flesh of his arm and Shiro has to bite his lip to keep from shivering at his touch. Keith’s fingers move to the scars crisscrossing Shiro’s chest, his violet eyes big and solemn.

“You should see the other guy,” Shiro deadpans and Keith shoots him a side-eyed glance before his fingers move to the scar covering Shiro’s nose. Shiro doesn’t try to stop him. He stopped being self-conscious about his scars a long time ago. “I got into an argument with a motorboat when I was a kid,” he says softly, “obviously the boat won.”

Keith drops his hand, a troubled frown creasing his brow as he stares directly into Shiro’s eyes. He looks… guilty, Shiro thinks, but before he can ask about it Keith suddenly rises up onto his knees and unexpectedly presses a soft kiss to Shiro’s lips.

Somehow, It feels like an apology.

Shiro doesn’t even have time to react before Keith is back up on his feet again. “Wait… what? What just happened?” Shiro murmurs, watching Keith disappear through the crevice. “Keith?” Shiro calls after him. He blinks, one eyebrow quirking quizzically. “How is your breath so minty?”

He climbs to his feet and follows after him, climbing out of the crevice onto a sort of natural shelf of stacked limestone. There’s no sign of Keith. Shiro glances down at the churning sea several feet below. Craggy black rocks jut from the water like an uneven row of monster teeth. Foamy white water swirls around them, forming mini water spouts that break apart in a salty spray against the rough shoals.

Shiro frowns. Keith couldn’t have gone that way.

There’s a sort of natural stair that leads back down to the beach. It’s narrow and pretty slippery. How did Keith even carry him up here? Shiro wonders, while carefully picking his way down the uneven shelves of gray rock.

He arrives back on the beach. “Keith!” he calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. He glances back over his shoulder at the high stone shelf he just climbed down. The island’s landscape seems to be a mix of sand and rock at the shore and a dense patch of palm trees and other tropical vegetation towards the interior. Shiro wonders how big it is.

He briefly contemplates searching for Keith in the forest, but ultimately decides against it. The sun is riding low in the sky, not quite touching the horizon, but it’ll be dark in a couple of hours. He wouldn’t want to find himself lost in the woods in the middle of the night. Wherever Keith is, he knows the island better than Shiro does, so Shiro decides to wait for him to return.

He settles down on the soft white sand, using his artificial hand as a shield against the setting sun. He’s gonna have to figure out some sort of skin protection, or the sun’s gonna burn the flesh right off his back. He wonders how Keith has remained so pale, maybe it’s got something to do with the lack of body hair. Some sort of genetic anomaly that makes his skin especially resistant to sun damage, Shiro theorizes. He idly cuffs his jeans up to his knees and buries his bare feet in the sand.

He watches the rough surf crashing against the shore. A sweeping blanket of water rushes towards him, stopping a few inches in front of him before it reverses course and rushes back out to sea. He squints at the horizon, There’s nothing but blue-green ocean as far as the eye can see. The vastness of it is somehow oppressive.

He’s not sure how long it’s been since the plane went down. Long enough for night to turn to day at least once. Long enough for his mom to be notified he guesses. He hates the thought of her being alone. He’d never actually considered surviving the crash, but now that he has, he’s terrified that he won’t be able to find his way back home and his mom will spend the rest of her life never knowing that he lived.

He wonders if there’s someone out there mourning Keith right now.

Something catches his eye, a luminous spot further out in the water where the sea turns less turbulent. A chill runs down Shiro’s spine at the sight of it. He stands up, frozen to the spot as he watches the soft lavender glow slide beneath the waves and disappear behind the craggy shoals. For some reason his heart is racing and he’s finding it difficult to breathe.

A cold hand touches his shoulder and Shiro jumps, whirling round to find Keith standing behind him. He’s completely soaked; Shiro’s sopping shirt clings to his slender body and his long hair is dripping with salty water. There are four fat wriggling fish clutched in his other hand. “Shiro,” he murmurs, his face pinched with concern.

“Keith,” Shiro gasps, impulsively gripping his shoulders, “did you see that?” He turns back towards the shoals, futilely scanning the water for any sign of the glowing creature. He’s shaking, the disjointed flash of a long buried memory striking him with such intensity, his knees threaten to buckle from the strain.

Keith drops the fish and grabs Shiro just as his legs go out from under him. He grunts when Shiro suddenly sags against him, the wiry muscles in his arms straining as he eases the larger man to a heavy seat on the soft white sand.

Shiro draws his knees up, hugging himself and gasping for breath. His lungs feel like rocks in his chest and there’s a loud buzzing inside his head. He’s crying. He doesn’t know why. Fat tears slip from his eyes, his body wracked with great heaving sobs. He’s ten-years-old, huddled in a motorboat on the worst day of his life, watching a luminous sea creature playfully race in his boat’s wake.

It’s the only thing that makes him smile that day.

Then it’s over. The memory recedes and Shiro is twenty again, shivering on a deserted beach with Keith’s arms wrapped around him. Keith’s head is laying on Shiro’s shoulder and he’s softly repeating Shiro’s name over and over again like a mantra.

Shiro just sits there in silence until his breathing calms and the tears stop spilling from his eyes. He sniffs and scrubs his face. He can feel the color rising in his cheeks as he sheepishly turns his head. Keith lifts his head from Shiro’s shoulder to regard him with big concerned eyes, he doesn’t stop holding him though. Shiro doesn’t think he wants him to.

“Sorry about that,” he says, embarrassed by the unexpected outburst, “a lot’s happened to me today and I think it just kinda… caught up with me all at once.”

Keith’s mouth quirks slightly at that. For a moment, Shiro’s afraid that he might try to kiss him again, but he just presses his forehead to Shiro’s cheek and exhales a long tremulous breath instead. It must have been upsetting for him to just helplessly watch Shiro lose it like that. Shiro closes his eyes and sighs. It’s not that he doesn’t want Keith to kiss him, but Keith’s prolonged isolation and lack of language would just make Shiro feel like he was taking advantage of a vulnerable situation if anything were to happen between them.

He looks at the small pile of fish laying in the sand and swipes the stray tears from his eyes. “Well, I guess there’s no danger of starving as long as you’re around,” he says wryly and Keith smiles. “I just wish I liked fish more.”

For someone who grew up in the Bay Area, Shiro’s relationship with seafood is lukewarm at best, and he hates sushi, something which his mother has always taken as a personal affront to their Japanese culture. If she could, she’d probably sue the entire state of California for turning her only son into an avocado loving hippie.

“Fish,” Keith says thoughtfully, as if testing how the word feels on his tongue. He disengages himself from Shiro and gathers the fish together.

Shiro nods. “That’s what they’re called,” he says, “sorry I don’t know what kind they are.”

Keith grins and selects a fish. He grasps it in both hands and raises it to his mouth. “Fish,” he says and Shiro suddenly realizes he’s planning to take a bite out of it, fins, skin, bones and all.

“Don’t eat it raw!” Shiro cries, utterly horrified. He springs forward and Keith hastily drops the fish, his eyes going wide. “You’ll get botulism or something,” Shiro says, a bit more calmly. He chuckles softly at the baffled look on Keith’s face. “I’ll make a fire.”

“Fire,” Keith echoes uncertainly.

There’s enough driftwood and dried seaweed scattered around the beach for a decent amount of tinder and kindling. Once Keith sees what Shiro is doing, he helps him gather it up, though he still seems pretty confused as to why. Shiro decides to let building the fire serve as the explanation.

He keeps talking though, about nothing and everything, just to fill up the dead air between them. Keith doesn’t seem to mind. The more Shiro talks the more he seems to understand the words. Shiro is beginning to think that his lack of language may be a forgotten skill rather than the complete absence of one.

At one point he disappears into the trees. Shiro assumes he’s taking a bathroom break, but he returns a few minutes later carrying a plastic milk jug and a couple of abalone shells. Shiro pauses in the midst of scooping out a shallow fire pit and sits back on his heels. “Where’d you get that?” he asks.

Keith blinks, then points towards the darkening sea.

“It washed up?” Shiro asks. He supposes a lot of trash must find it’s way onto the beach eventually, especially after storms. Shiro must’ve washed up himself. It’s not like Keith could’ve swum a hundred miles and plucked him out of the middle of the ocean after all. Shiro is baffled as to how he managed to drift all that way without drowning though. He wonders if wreckage from the plane will start washing up at some point as well.

He’s not sure how to feel about that actually.

Keith nods. He hands one of the shells to Shiro then pours fresh water into it from the milk jug. Shiro drinks two shelffuls before returning to the fire pit. Keith watches fascinated as Shiro stacks the dried seaweed and smaller sticks of driftwood inside the pit. The larger pieces of wood he keeps in reserve for later when the fire’s got some legs.

There are several methods of starting a fire without matches, but most of them are a huge pain in the butt, so Shiro just uses his hand. He concentrates for a moment and his artificial fingers heat up with an intense violet glow. He touches one of the dried seaweed clumps and it immediately bursts into flame. After a few minutes of carefully stoking it with wood, he’s got a pretty good blaze going. Keith squats down next to him, mesmerized by the bright orange flames.

Shiro sighs and sits back on his heels. He’s suddenly exhausted and his headache is starting to come back. He winces, gingerly fingering the wound in his scalp. A bit of the paste protecting it flakes off onto his fingers. He squints at it. It looks like crushed tea leaves; some sort of herbal remedy he assumes. Keith is watching him with those somber eyes of his and Shiro flashes what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “I’m okay,” he says.

He’s trying not to dwell on his… panic attack, but the recovered memory as brief as it was, keeps playing over and over in his head. What are the odds that a second luminous sea creature would cross his path more than 3000 miles from the first one? It had to be a second one right? Stumbling across the same creature from his childhood would be too much of a coincidence to contemplate. It would be the universe trying to tell him something, if he believed in that sort of thing.

“Fish?” Keith murmurs hopefully, and Shiro flashes him a rueful smile, feeling suddenly guilty for making him wait. He must be hungry. Come to think of it, Shiro’s hungry. He can’t remember the last time he ate. There’d been some sort of snack option served on the plane, but it hadn’t seemed very appetizing. Neither does eating a whole fish with no way to gut, scale, or debone it before cooking, but Shiro isn’t quite ready to embrace his inner Gollum and eat it raw either. He seems to recall you can bake fish inside fruit leaves…

“Well, what do you think?” Shiro asks Keith as he skeptically stares at the charred fish Shiro just handed him on a palm leaf plate. Granted, he’s not much of a cook. “You’re probably thinking I ruined a perfectly good fish aren’t you,” Shiro apologizes.

Keith gives the fish a tentative sniff and wrinkles his nose at the unfamiliar aroma. He tears off a ragged chunk and haphazardly pops it into his mouth. Shiro can’t help but laugh at the array of conflicting emotions that march across his face as he cautiously chews it. “I’ll get better at this, I promise,” he says, consuming his own unevenly cooked fish with a bit more care.

The sun has slipped into the sea by the time they’ve finished their meal. Shiro throws a couple of the larger driftwood logs onto the fire and the flames rush to engulf them. It might not be a bad idea to build a bonfire on the beach, he thinks. The trees growing on the island are so green, they’d be ideal for fueling a signal fire with lots of smoke to alert any passing ships or planes in the area. Shiro just has to figure out a way to cut them down and haul them out here.

He slips into the woods for a moment for a bathroom break and when he returns, Keith is sitting by the fire chewing on some sort of plant. A green stem sticks out from between his lips as he methodically works the leafy stalk around the inside of his mouth.

“What have you got there?” Shiro asks curiously, taking a seat beside him in the soft sand.

Keith smiles around the plant and hands a second leafy stem to Shiro. Shiro gives the dart shaped leaves an experimental sniff. “Mint!” he cries, pleasantly surprised. Keith grins. Well, that’s one mystery solved, he thinks. Pretty good natural toothbrush actually. “You’ve really got this place wired huh?” he says.

“Wired,” Keith murmurs, tossing the remains of the mint cutting into the fire.

Shiro chuckles, laying down in the soft sand. Keith joins him a moment later. They watch the stars bloom across the darkening sky. They’re so far from the lights of civilization that Shiro can see the arm of the Milky Way extending out like a crack across the sky above them. Every corner of the sky is saturated with stars. More than he’s ever seen before. He imagines this is how it must have appeared to sixteenth century astronomers. He’s always been a little jealous of their view.

“Those lights up there,” Shiro says softly, “they’re called stars.”

“Stars,” Keith murmurs, stifling a yawn.

It’s been a long day. Shiro spent most of it sleeping but it was Keith who looked after him, found him shelter and water and food. He must be exhausted. Shiro lifts his arm and Keith moves closer. His skin’s as cold as ice, though he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it. Shiro pulls him close anyway, sharing his body heat with him. Keith lays his head on Shiro’s chest. His long thick hair is still damp and smells of the sea.

“Most of them are so far away,” Shiro continues, “it takes their light thousands of years to reach us.” Keith sighs. Shiro thinks he may be drifting off, but he keeps talking anyway. It’s too much like being alone when he stops. “We’re looking into the past right now,” he says, “some of those lights burned out a long time ago. We just don’t know it yet.”

He pauses for a moment to locate the constellations. It makes him feel a little closer to home knowing they’re out there. “I used to dream about going to the stars,” he murmurs, “becoming a pilot in the Explorer Corps and visiting other planets, only they wouldn’t take me because of this,” he says, raising his artificial hand and briefly examining it in the glow of the fire light.

He wiggles his unfeeling fingers, his brow knitting into a disgruntled frown. “They told me the technology was still too new.” Shiro sighs. “Anyway, I’m studying Astrophysics at Caltech now. Studying the stars is almost as good as visiting them,” he says wistfully, “almost.”

Keith raises his head and Shiro startles slightly, he was sure he’d fallen asleep. “Still with me?” he asks wryly.

“Still with you,” Keith says though his eyelids are drooping with exhaustion.

“Hey, you actually answered me that time,” Shiro says proudly. “You’re learning fast.”

“Learning fast,” Keith echoes. He yawns and curls up more tightly against Shiro’s side.

Shiro chuckles. “I wish you could tell me how you wound up here,” he says, thoughtfully, “I’ll bet it’s one hell of a story.”

Keith doesn’t respond, his damp head is growing heavier on Shiro’s chest.

Shiro yawns. Seems like the events of the day are starting to catch up with him as well. He stares up at the stars. “My dad used to love looking at the stars,” he murmurs. Even now, ten years after his death, Shiro still thinks of his dad every day. “He’s the one who taught me all the constellations,” he briefly considers pointing them out to Keith, but perhaps he’ll save that for another day. “We used to have a boat, not the motorboat a cabin cruiser, my mom sold it after my dad died,” come to think of it, Shiro’s accident might have had something to do with it as well. “We used to stargaze from the deck at night.”

He thinks a lot about that actually, mostly because of the conversations they had while they were out there. “I really miss him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “We buried him the same day I lost my arm, which was fitting in an odd sort of way, since it already felt like it was gone. Well, not my arm specifically, but a piece of me. The piece of me where he used to live.”

Keith tilts his head, his big eyes glassy in the firelight. Shiro suddenly realizes he’ll fight to stay awake as long as he keeps talking.

A wan smile touches his lips. “Time to call it a day, I think,” he says.

He’s sure the future will look better tomorrow.

fereldenpeach  asked:

♖: Having their hair washed by the other from the nonsexual acts of intimacy prompts (Annabel x Cullen because I love them!)

Thank you so much for the prompt @fereldenpeach <3

SFW - fluff / banter/ domestic - Cullen X Annabel Trevelyan for @dadrunkwriting

(ok this is very similar to my earlier piece, apologies but it really just wouldn’t work the other way around, Annabel would just turn this into shameless smut - so maybe next time? :P)


“I’m fine,” Annabel insists, swatting Cullen’s concern away with the wave of her hand. “I just need some sleep.”

“Annabel,” he states, calmly but firmly. “You’re covered in blood…grime…and…Maker what is that?” He withdraws his fingers from toying with her hair to find them covered in black slime.

She frowns and studies his hand before throwing a shrug. “I don’t know, I killed a lot of demons, ok? How I am I supposed to keep track of which one’s goo looks like what?” She pushes lightly past him to head for her bed.

Creasing his brow his eyes narrow and he grabs hold of her arm. “Bath. Now.”

She stops and tilts her head at him. “Is that, an order, Commander?” One of her eyebrows arches.

“Yes,” he catches the little flare of mischief in her eyes and shakes his head. “But not that kind. You need a good wash then a good night’s sleep. Go,” he’s already lightly pushing her towards the pre-arranged bath by the fire.

“But I’m exhausted, can’t it-“

“No,” he cuts across bluntly. He nudges her back and she grumbles something under her breath that he doesn’t catch as she starts to undress.

Respectfully he keeps his eyes away, not that its anything he hasn’t seen before, but merely because he’s determined to do what is right by her. Bath then bed. If he watched her strip and bathe he’s not certain he’d be able to control himself.

Instead he busies himself at her desk, vainly trying to organise things that she has let spiral wildly out of control. How did she work in such chaos? He hears the soft splosh as she steps in the water followed by a weary sigh.

She had, by all accounts, closed two rifts today, killed a bear and somehow managed to ‘talk’ a stray ram back to its home. It was dark before the party arrived back, fresh from their last demon killing spree, and all looking rather worse for wear. Even Sera lacked her usual chipper greeting and instead had made a gruff ‘noise’ at him then wondered off to the tavern.

Engrossed in sorting the papers it takes him a while to notice the silence. Silence and Annabel rarely go together. His eyes snap to the bath to find her curled up, her shoulders siting just above the foamy water, with her head to one side and eyes lightly closed. Even her lips have opened slightly, the way they always did when she slept. He smiles gently and approaches, rolling up his sleeves as he goes.

Her hair is almost black when wet and is spilling out around her, still tangled with Maker knew what. Kneeling behind the iron tub he rests his elbows against it to simply admire her. Despite the heavy black marks under her eyes, the wild hair and the recent graze on her cheek she is still, undeniably, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

He attempts to wake her by clearing his throat, then huffs a small laugh at himself, what was he thinking? He’d seen her sleep through raging storms without stirring. Gently he squeezes her shoulder and her eyes dart open with a muffled cry of alarm.

“Shh, it’s just me,” he reassures her and she shuffles, seemingly realising what’s happened.

“Sorry… I did tell you I was tired…” she mumbles, a yawn escaping her as she rubs the back of a soapy hand across her eye which she seems to instantly regret with crazy blinking.

Pulling her hair gently back he chuckles lightly and pours a small jug of warm water over it. Softly he crinkles his fingertips through her locks to start removing the day’s dirt and grime.

“You know,” he mumbles as she rests her eyes at the pampering treatment. “It’s a good job it’s not the other way around, because unlike, someone, I have a little self-restraint.”

“It’s not my fault you’re irresistible,” she murmurs in reply, cracking one eye open to look at him with her trade mark smirk.

Without warning he leans over and kisses her plump rosy lips, his own highly-regarded self-restraint failing him, as it so often did around her. 

“It seems I’m not the only one,” his voice is hushed against her kiss as he pulls away. He’s still determined to do whats right and not simply what he desires and so returns to running soap through her hair.

“Can I expect to be pounced on in the morning?” she asks lightly, leaning her head back once more to relax into his hands.

Now a dark smirk creeps across his own lips. “Oh, very much so.”


Thanks for reading - likes, comments, reblogs always welcome! 

and i’ll be yours until the stars fall out of the sky | Sungjin [drabble]

fluff, shameless fluff | 516 words | pg-ish

a/n: Elaina, @daystring6, my love, this is for you. I wrote this on the train on my way home from work today so this is raw and ugh and it’s a mess obvs but I also really want to show you now (because i kind of drew insp from yours) so I hope you like it even just a little bit <3 bb, you deserve more than this, and I will give you more than this, but for now this is what I have for you.

Once in a while, Sungjin lets you get your way.

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Killian Jones Imagine- Pirates Life for Me

When Killian asked you to marry him, never in a million years would you imagine yourself on the Jolly Roger sailing the oceans in search of the fountain of youth. As much as you didn’t want to go, Killian didn’t want to go either. He wants to keep you as far away from the pirate lifestyle for as long as he could but when he was commissioned to do this job, he couldn’t refuse such an offer. Being just married you begged to tag along, a honeymoon of sorts you complied. 

“Captain, we have eyes on another ship.” one of the crew members calls up. 

You and Killian are standing on the top deck overlooking the entire crew. Mostly consisting of young men whose lives are indentured to servitude, your crew is attentive. Killian extends his telescope and looks at the other ship which is gaining ground. 

“We wait ‘till nightfall. Savvy?” he answers his crew. 

Turning to you, he looks intently at you trying to decipher what your thought are. He knew at first that the prate life wasn’t to your liking, but little did he know that it was growing on you. You love the fancy costumes and the constant adventure. It isn’t every day that you get to order around a whole crew of people and search for a hidden treasure. As every day passes he feels more guilty for dragging you out here. 

“What do you think?” 

“You made the right call. From the looks of it they are heading southwest and we want to be going,” you pull out the compass that is chained to your leather jacket  “ Northwest.” 

“Aye.” his jaw clenches. 

Returning back to the open waters as the sky starts to diffuse into radiant colors, you walk down the steps towards the slovenly members of the crew. Whenever you approach on of them they straighten up and refuse to look you in the eye, in fear of upsetting the captain. 

“Boys get some rest, we move at sun down. Higgins please keep an eye out for me. “ you order. 

Turning on the heel of your leather thigh high boots you grin as you trail back up the stairs. Upon entering the wooden doors of the captain’s quarters you sigh and close the doors tightly behind you. When you peer up you see your husband slouched in a chair, swirling a glass of rum with his hand and a distraught expression evident. 

“What’s the matter dear?” you walk over to him and lightly sit on his knee. 

“We have been out here for so long. I never wanted it to be this way.” His pours the liquid down his throat. 

The candles flicker softly as the boat rocks back and fourth on the uneven waters. You could tell that he is tense and worried, nothing that was out of the ordinary. Delicately you snake one of your hands on his shoulder and gently begin to knead the tension away. 

“No need to be so tense Killian, I don’t mind really. I kind of like it honestly.” you place a soft kiss to his jaw. 

He removes the hat that rests crookedly on your head, his calloused fingers brushing against your cheeks bone as he moves a stray strain of hair from your face. He would never admit it but his favorite part of you is you eyes. He sees a fire in them that he has never seen in anyone else, a fire so strong that it could warm the heart of anyone you look at. You feel the cold air hit your shoulder as hook slides down your jacket. His soft lips connect with your warm skin, he gently trails up to the back of yours neck. 

“Hook.” you grin knowing that he secretly loves when you call him that. 

You spin around on your feet, taking his hand in yours. His vehement eyes stare back at you behind smudged eyeliner. He follows in your footsteps and stands up right, his gaze never breaking yours. When he kisses you its like an electric spark, all the tension is released the moment your lips lock. You hand firmly rests on his chest, your fingers curling against the trimmed hair. 

“Captain.” you whisper in his ear.

“Yes m’lady.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too (y/n).”

The two of you go back to your from activities. Your chest begin to rise and fell rapidly as you two kiss desperately. Not since you wedding night have you two had a moment alone, and this served as a perfect time to be alone. The floor boards creek underneath your feet as you shift your weight a little. Running over to the bed you bounce on the silk covered sheets, tucking your feet under you as you giggle. Killian dominantly strides over to you as takes another good look at you. Taking in your beauty, he finds the genuine happiness in your life together. His fingers swiftly unbutton the top three buttons of your shirt. 

“Captain!” someone pounds on the door. 

You sigh as he hangs his head in disappointment. He turns around and heads out of the cabin, strapping on his sword on the way you. Collecting yourself you  swing your coat back onto your shoulders. once you open the door you see Killian hunched over a map underneath a burning lamp. The crew awaits orders from their eager captain. Buttoning up your frilly blouse you stand next to Killian pressing your hip into his leg. 

“Where to next captain?” you read the map. 

“You tell me love.” he hands you the map. 

Looking at it you examine the delicate drawings that are printed on the map. Only a few of the details of the terrain could be made out. You rack your memory as to where this could be, that is until you recognize one of the points on the map. When you and Killian first started dating, you met in Neverland. Your first kiss was on a high cliff overlooking a cave. 

“Hook, it’s Neverland!” you gasp. 

“Off to Neverland! Hoist the colors!” he grins, places a kiss on your lips to your surprise.

The crew busies themselves with work as Killian takes his spot behind the wheel. The same fire in his eyes that you saw when you first met is now blazing as he fixes his gaze on the path to Neverland. You stand next to Killian who is steering the ship, you watch out for any other ships that would impede your trip. The stars gleam down upon you lighting up the way. 

“Welcome to Neverland boys!” you call out to the crew. 

Upon entering the island of Neverland, an eerie silence falls upon the crew, Many of them have been lost for years, you could tell by the absentminded stares which ones could hear Pan’s flute. 

“Watch out lads, Peter is bound to be near. Remember, a dead man tells no tales.” 

You stick close to Killian knowing what kind of power Peter has. You were once a lost girl, saved by Killian who is our home. Killian has proved time again that the home isn’t a place but rather a feeling. You grasp the metal hand guard on your sword tightly as you make you way through the dense forrest of Neverland. 

“You have the chalices?” you ask. 

“Higgins has them in his bag.”

“What about the mermaid’s tear captain?” a young boy asks. 

“(y/n) is an old friend of the mermaids.” Hook answers back. 

The lagoon is calm, almost too calm for the shores of Neverland. When you swam here years ago, the waves would always crash above your head. Softly singing, you place your hand into the salty water. Your melodious voice beckons the mermaids to the shore because no matter who is singing, they can’t resist the sound of music. It acts as a universal call for them. The crew quivers in the back as mermaids start to swim up to the shore. These girls ave long hair and shiny tails and scales litter their alabaster skin. 

“(y/n) what brings you to the lagoon?” your friend asks eyeing one of the sailors in the back. 

“Aqua de Vita.” 

“Say no more. “ 

The mermaid disappears back into the foamy water, the sound of the gulls echoing in the distance. The smell of salt fills your lungs as you await the arrival of your friend. You peer back at Killian with assuring eyes, and turn back to the water as you hear a splash. Your friend hands you a little vial and gives you a stern look. 

“Don’t waste it.” she flips back into the water and swims away. 

Returning the vial back to your hopeful husband, he smiles looking at the cloudy liquid. He signals for the rest of the crew to head forward but then stops as he hears muffled whispers from behind the tall palm trees. 


“Everyone quiet.” he calls out drawing his sword from his belt. 

You also draw your sword from the inside of your jacket and told your hat back so you have a better view. Everything is silent for a few seconds before Peter emerges out of the brush. He has his eyebrow raised paired with a cocky expression plastered on his face. 

“Greetings. Hook what a surprise. (y/n) always a pleasure to see you love.” he walks past you. “So what brings you to my island?”

“Can’t a man enjoy an island with a few of his friends?” he jokes. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see one of lost boys inching up to you, a knife tucked away in his hand. Trying to to make any sudden movement, you move your sword toward him signaling him to back off. When he doesn’t get the memo you step closer to Killian who now is clued in to what is happening. 

“Back off the lass would ya!” he points a finger toward the boy. 

After that all hell breaks loose as the sounds of swords hitting each other fill the air. You are faced with your long time foe Felix, and to your back is Killian dueling Peter Pan. 

“1″ you call out.

“2″ he answers.

“3″ you both say as you switch places.

You swipe you sword at Peter nicking his side which causing his to grab the wound. 

“I don’t fight invalids.” Killian sighs shaking his head at the lost boy. 

Hitting his with the butt of the sword he knocks the boy down to his feet and concentrates back to Peter Pan. 

“(y/n)!” she says, concern laced in his voice. 

“Yes?” you huff ducking from a sword that was song above your head. 

He grabs your hand and pulls you into his body, colliding his lips with yours. 

“What was that for?” 

“Good luck.” 

Peter limps off back into the brush leaving your crew mostly unharmed and intact. You open your compass and it points toward Killian, exactly what your heart is looking for. 

“Forward boys!” 

[Author’s note: Hey guys! I thought I would write one that is a little bit longer. I hope you like it! I might do a part two I haven’t decided. Let me know what you think!]