#( i figured it out on my last life and was just too tired to repeat the level )

[wildflowercryptid]

i've already latched onto dogen as my resident blorbo kiddo in psychonauts so of course the gears in my head are already spinning for what i think he'd be like in his teen & adult years. i wanna see him happy and healthy and also get that pet his parents promised him.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

WAITING AIN’T EASY

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after 6 gruelling months of long distance with drew, y/n decides to surprise him on set. listen to ‘waiting ain’t easy’ — Evan Honer!!

based on this ask !! i really hope you enjoy my lovely :) amazing ask as always !! i made a little twist on it though, and added some angsty goodness to make it more emotional <3

WARNINGS: angst to fluff, fighting, crying, mentions of breaking up, long distance relationship, like one (?) curse word, brief mention of cheating rumours (made by the media) and i think that’s it? (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared out at the crashing waves outside her beachfront rental in Australia, the sun dipping low in a painted sky of reds and golds. Normally, she would've snapped a picture to send Drew, knowing how much he loved sunsets. But tonight, her phone sat abandoned on the kitchen counter, vibrating occasionally with notifications she couldn't bring herself to check.

It had been nearly six months since she'd left for Australia to film her new movie, a dream opportunity that she'd accepted with boundless enthusiasm. Drew had been so supportive at first, kissing her forehead and promising her they'd figure it out. "Eight months will fly by," he'd said. "We'll make it work." And for a while, they had.

The first few months had been manageable—late-night FaceTime calls, text messages scattered throughout the day, photos exchanged to make each other smile. But as the weeks turned into months, the strain started to show. The time difference, their conflicting schedules, and the exhaustion from their respective work had turned their once-effortless connection into something fragmented and brittle.

And then there were the rumors.

The first article had popped up about a month ago, with pictures of Y/N and her co-star, Paul Mescal, leaving a restaurant. They'd been with a group of castmates, but the tabloids didn't care about context. The angle made it look intimate, as if the two of them had been alone. Headlines screamed: "New Flame on Set?" and "Trouble in Paradise for Drew Starkey and Y/N?"

Drew hadn't believed the rumors—not really. He knew how tabloids worked. But the seed of doubt had been planted. Their conversations became laced with tension. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out?" Drew had asked one night, his voice tight.

"I didn't think I had to give you a play-by-play of my day," she'd snapped, the exhaustion from a grueling shoot making her sharper than she intended.

"I'm not asking for a play-by-play, Y/N. I just want to know what's going on in your life. Is that too much to ask?"

The fight spiraled from there, unresolved, and left a bitter taste that lingered.

Tonight, their most recent argument had pushed them to a breaking point.

She answered the phone after his third call, her voice strained. "Hey."

"Hey," Drew replied, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the silence that followed.

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," she began, trying to preempt his frustration. "I got caught up on set, and—"

"Y/N, you always get caught up on set," Drew interrupted, his tone clipped. "I'm starting to feel like I'm not a priority anymore."

Her heart sank. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Because it feels like I'm the only one trying here."

"Trying?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Drew, do you know how hard this has been for me too? I miss you every single day, but I can't just drop everything to cater to your insecurities."

"Insecurities?" he echoed, incredulous. "You're calling me insecure because I want to spend more than five minutes talking to my girlfriend? Because I'm tired of feeling like I'm the last thing on your mind?"

"Don't do this," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Don't twist this into something it's not."

"Then tell me what it is, Y/N," he shot back. "Because right now, it feels like we're falling apart."

Her throat tightened. "Maybe we are," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Drew exhaled shakily on the other end of the line. "Do you really believe that?"

"I don't know what I believe anymore," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. "This... this isn't what I thought it would be. I didn't think it would hurt this much."

"You think I don't hurt too?" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "You think I don't lie awake every night wishing you were here? That I don't feel like I'm losing my mind wondering if this is worth it anymore?"

Her chest tightened painfully, but she couldn't find the words to soothe him. To soothe herself. The weight of their love—their pain—pressed down on her like a crushing wave.

"I can't do this right now," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Drew said bitterly, "of course you can't."

And then the line went dead.

Y/N stared at the screen, her hand trembling as the call ended. She wanted to call him back, to take it all back, but the words hung in the air between them, too heavy to ignore.

Halfway across the world in Charleston, Drew sat in his apartment, his phone clutched in his hand. He stared at the empty screen, the echo of their fight replaying in his mind. The silence in the room was deafening, the loneliness suffocating.

They were both alone, yet they'd never felt further apart.

—

Drew sat on set, legs stretched out as he leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. The day had been slow, and while he loved working on Outer Banks, his mind wasn't fully there. It hadn't been for weeks. The weight of his argument with Y/N lingered, the harsh words and silence that followed gnawing at him.

He sighed, locking his phone and tossing it onto the nearby table. The OBX cast was scattered around the set, some chatting, others grabbing snacks. Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia were huddled together near the craft services table, giggling about something. Their sudden burst of laughter caught Drew's attention.

"What's so funny?" he called out, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing!" Madison replied quickly, a little too quickly. She nudged Carlacia, who bit her lip to stifle another laugh.

Suspicious, Drew tilted his head but didn't press further. He wasn't in the mood for their antics today. As much as he loved his friends, all he really wanted was Y/N. Six months apart felt like an eternity, and knowing they still had two more months to go made the ache in his chest worse.

What he didn't know was that Y/N was only minutes away.

Y/N stepped off the plane, her heart pounding as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She had managed to keep the wrap of her film a secret from Drew, wanting to surprise him in the best way possible. It hadn't been easy; she'd had to bite her tongue during their rare phone calls and carefully avoid social media posts that might tip him off.

Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia had been the first people she told about her plan, and they had been more than happy to help. When she landed, they were waiting for her, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You ready to blow his mind?" Madelyn asked, grinning as she pulled Y/N into a hug.

"I've never been more ready," Y/N said, her nerves and excitement warring within her.

Carlacia held up her phone, ready to document everything. "Okay, we've got this all planned. He's sitting in the main lounge area. You just walk in, and we'll follow behind you."

Y/N nodded, exhaling shakily. "Let's do this."

Back on set, Drew was oblivious. The girls had disappeared somewhere, but he didn't think much of it. They were always running off to do their own thing. He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face as exhaustion crept in.

The sound of footsteps approaching barely registered until he heard a familiar voice, soft and hesitant.

"Hey, Starkey."

Drew's head whipped around so fast that his chair tipped backward, clattering to the floor. He stumbled to his feet, his heart racing as his eyes locked on her.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked, disbelief written all over his face.

Before she could say another word, Drew launched himself toward her, nearly tripping over his fallen chair in his haste. He reached her in seconds, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he lifted her off the ground.

"Y/N," he choked out, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her shoulder.

She clung to him just as tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Hi, baby," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Drew pulled back just enough to look at her, his face streaked with tears. "You're here? How are you here? I thought—"

"My shoot wrapped early," she interrupted, laughing through her tears. "I wanted to surprise you."

Drew didn't hesitate. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss so full of love and longing that it made Y/N's knees weak. Around them, the cast erupted in exaggerated groans and laughter.

"Get a room!" Rudy teased, shielding his eyes dramatically.

"Y'all are gonna make me cry," Carlacia joked, still filming the entire moment.

When Drew finally pulled away, his forehead rested against Y/N's, his tears falling freely now. "God, I missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I missed you so fucking much."

"I missed you too," Y/N said, her hands cupping his face as she brushed away his tears. "I'm so sorry, Drew. For everything. For the fight, for the silence. I hated it. I hated being apart from you."

"Me too," Drew admitted, his voice cracking again. "I was so scared, Y/N. Scared I was losing you."

"Never," she said firmly. "I was scared too, but I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."

Drew let out a shaky laugh, his arms tightening around her as if he were afraid she might disappear. "Waiting ain't easy," he said softly, his eyes searching hers, "but it's worth it for you. Always."

Y/N felt fresh tears well up as she kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love and reassurance she had into it. When they finally broke apart, the cast was clapping and cheering, much to Drew's embarrassment.

"Alright, alright, show's over," Drew said, his cheeks flushed as he waved them off. But he couldn't stop smiling, and his hand never left Y/N's.

Carlacia walked up, showing them the video she had taken. "You two are gonna want this later. It's a tearjerker."

Drew chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. "Thanks, Laci."

As the cast gave them some space, Drew turned to Y/N, his eyes still glistening. "You're really here," he said again, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"I'm here," she confirmed, her smile soft. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Drew's expression softened, his love for her radiating in his gaze. "Good. Because I don't ever want to do this without you again."

They spent the rest of the day glued to each other, catching up, apologising, and soaking in every second of finally being together again.

For the first time in six months, everything felt right.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such an adorable one to write :’) i love writing hurt/comfort, it’s just my absolute fave genre of ff !! i really hope you enjoy this @xoxosblogsblog <3

[p0orbaby]

Sinners | Pride

summary: leah had a good game, you show her how proud of her you are

warnings: SMUT 18+, soft sex, too much talk of cabbages…

a/n: the final part of this silly little smutty series, hope you enjoyed !

word count: 1.4k

Lust | Gluttony | Envy | Sloth | Greed | Wrath

-

You’re barely through the hotel room door before Leah is tossing her keys on the dresser like they’ve personally offended her. It’s one of those tiny hotel rooms where you can practically wee while brushing your teeth, and somehow the décor manages to look both clinical and like someone’s grandmother’s living room at the same time. You’re trying to figure out how that’s possible when Leah lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Today was a day,” she says, flopping onto the bed like she’s auditioning for a life insurance advert.

“You were brilliant,” you say, but it comes out flat, like you’re just trying to move the conversation along so you can get to the part where you finally make her feel good. The truth is, she really was brilliant. Like, once-in-a-lifetime brilliant. But the moment feels too small for that much sincerity, so you settle for plopping down beside her and patting her thigh like she’s a good dog.

“Yeah, well,” she says, staring at the ceiling like it’s going to give her all the answers to life. “I’m exhausted”

You turn to look at her, trying to read her expression. She looks tired, sure, but also like she’s carrying the weight of the world on those very capable shoulders of hers. You think about saying something profound, but then you remember you’re you, and instead, you blurt out, “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

She blinks, turning her head to look at you. “What?”

“Yeah,” you say, as if this is the most normal thing to bring up after an award-winning performance. “Last night, you mumbled something about… cabbages?”

She laughs, the sound catching you off guard. “Cabbages? Really?”

“Yep. It was riveting. You were really passionate about it, too. I was half-expecting you to wake up and start giving a TED talk on the virtues of leafy greens”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips now, and you feel like you’ve won some kind of prize.

“And you didn’t wake me up? What if I had important cabbage-related things to say?”

“I’m sure they were life-changing,” you say, “But honestly, you were so cute, I didn’t have the heart”

“Cute,” she repeats, like it’s a foreign word. “I just played ninety minutes of some of the best football of my career and you’re calling me cute?”

“Hey,” you shrug, “I can multi-task. Appreciate your talent and your cuteness all at once. It’s a gift”

She raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly is your plan for this so-called ‘gift’?”

You smirk, leaning in closer, your lips brushing her ear as you whisper, “I’m going to show you just how proud I am of you. And if you’re lucky, I might even throw in a lecture on the superiority of cabbages”

Leah snorts, but you can feel the way her body tenses under your touch, anticipation thrumming just beneath the surface. “You’re ridiculous”

“And yet, here you are, fully consenting to be seduced by said ridiculous person”

“Fully consenting?” She repeats, amusement dancing in her eyes. “That’s some confidence you’ve got there”

“I prefer to call it optimism,” you say, sliding a hand up her thigh, fingers brushing the waistband of her joggers. “But call it whatever you want. Just as long as you let me take care of you”

She doesn’t say anything, just watches you with that intense stare of hers that always makes you feel like she’s stripping away every defense you’ve ever had. It’s unnerving, but also hot as hell, and you’re about three seconds away from ripping her clothes off just to make the feeling stop.

But you don’t. Because this isn’t about you. Not tonight.

“Let me,” you murmur, your hand already slipping beneath her waistband, fingers brushing against her bare skin. “I want to”

Leah sighs, and it’s the kind of sigh that says she’s giving in, but she’s going to pretend like she’s doing you a favor. “Fine. But if this is some kind of elaborate ruse to get out of listening to my cabbage TED talk, I’m going to be really disappointed”

“I promise,” you say, leaning in to kiss her neck, “No vegetables”

She laughs, and it’s the best sound you’ve heard all day. You take that as a win, pulling back just enough to slide her sweatpants down, leaving her in nothing but that damn sports bra that’s seen better days.

“You really should get a new one of these,” you say, fingers tracing the edge of the fabric. “It’s practically a relic at this point”

“Are you seriously going to critique my sports bra right now?”

“I’m just saying,” you murmur, kissing your way down her stomach, “It deserves to be retired. Maybe hung in a museum”

Leah opens her mouth to respond, but whatever sarcastic retort she had dies on her lips as your mouth finds her hip bone, teeth grazing the skin there. You feel her shiver beneath you, and you smile against her skin.

“Relax,” you say, your voice low, soothing. “Let me take care of you”

Leah’s hands find your hair, her fingers threading through it as she pulls you closer. “You talk too much”

“Maybe,” you say, your mouth moving lower, “But I’m really good at other things”

“Prove it”

You smirk, because that’s exactly what you plan to do. You take your time, kissing your way down her body, hands roaming, exploring every inch of her like it’s the first time. Leah’s breath catches when you reach the spot between her legs, and you can feel her anticipation like a tangible thing, thick and heavy in the air.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” you murmur, your breath hot against her skin.

“Shut up,” she mutters, but there’s no heat in her words, just a soft, almost embarrassed laugh.

“Make me,” you counter, and before she can come up with a witty retort, you dip your head down, your tongue slipping between her folds, tasting her for the first time tonight.

Leah’s response is immediate, a sharp intake of breath, her hands tightening in your hair as she arches off the bed. You don’t let up, your tongue teasing her, tasting her, taking in every soft sigh and quiet moan that escapes her lips.

You keep your movements slow, deliberate, teasing her just enough to keep her on edge, but not enough to push her over. She’s trembling beneath you now, her body tense with anticipation, and you know she’s close, so close, but you’re not done yet.

“Please,” she breathes, and it’s the closest thing to begging you’ve ever heard from her.

“Please, what?” you ask, your voice muffled against her.

“Just… please”

You could make her say it, make her beg properly, but you’re not that cruel. Instead, you give her what she wants, what she needs, your tongue moving faster, more insistent, until she’s gasping, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.

You don’t stop until she’s pulling you away, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body spent and trembling. When you finally pull back, she’s staring at you with something that looks suspiciously like awe, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride in your chest.

“Good?” you ask, because you need to hear it.

“Good?” she repeats, her voice hoarse. “I told you you’re ridiculous”

“Ridiculously good, you mean”

Leah just shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Get up here”

You oblige, crawling up the bed to lay beside her, your arms wrapping around her as she buries her face in your neck. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the feel of her body pressed against yours, and you think this might be your favorite moment of the day.

“Thanks,” she murmurs after a while, her voice muffled against your skin.

“Anytime,” you reply, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so proud of you, Leah. You were amazing today”

She doesn’t say anything, just snuggles closer, her hand resting on your chest as she drifts off to sleep, safe and warm in your arms.

You lay there for a while, listening to the sound of her breathing, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against yours. And just before you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but whisper, “I really hope you dream about cabbages again”

Leah doesn’t respond, but you like to think that if she was awake, she would’ve laughed.

[cosmiclily]

.ᐟchapter five: pardon my emotions

wc: 1.5k

cw: a little bit of angst but i think this chapter is quite funny

The throbbing headache that greeted me the next morning was expected. I felt like absolute shit, and I wished I could blame it entirely on the hangover. But no, the events of last night were still fresh in my mind. Walking in on Vi making out with that girl felt like a slap in the face. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was finally on my side, screaming loud and clear: “Get over your stupid high school crush. She doesn’t want you.”

I let out a bitter laugh as I sat up in bed, clutching my pounding head. It wasn’t like this was news. Vi had always been out of my league—beautiful, confident, magnetic. She was the kind of person who could walk into a room and make everyone fall for her without even trying. And me? I was just... there. The best friend, the roommate, the one who’d always been there to pick up the pieces, never the one to hold her heart.

I rubbed my temples, as if the physical ache would somehow numb the emotional one. Get over her, I told myself again. You’ve done harder things in life. You can do this. But no matter how many times I repeated it, the words felt hollow, like trying to patch up a broken vase with tape.

As I make my way to the kitchen, the sight of Vi greets me like a cruel reminder of last night. She’s standing there, wearing an oversized band t-shirt and a pair of boxers, looking like the softest thing in the world, her hair still tousled from sleep as she makes coffee. For a second, I freeze, debating whether to just turn around and sneak back to my bedroom without being noticed. But, of course, the universe isn’t on my side.

The moment I make a move to leave, her eyes land on me.

“Hey, good morning,” she says, her voice warm and casual, as if nothing had happened. She’s holding my favorite mug, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee floats through the air. “Ekko told me you weren’t feeling well last night and that’s why you left. I figured you’d wake up with a headache, so…” She steps closer, holding out the mug with one hand and a small packet of painkillers with the other. “I got you some meds. And I made your coffee just the way you like it.”

For a moment, I just stare at her, my mind a mess of emotions I can’t figure out. It’s unfair how natural it feels for her, how easily she slides into this role that feels like more than just a friend. And yet, it’s not. It never will be.

“Thanks,” I finally manage, taking the mug and the pills from her. My fingers brush against hers briefly, and it takes everything in me not to pull away too fast. I swallow the pills with a quick sip of coffee, grateful for the heat against my cold hands. “You didn’t have to do this,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Of course I did,” she says with a small shrug, leaning casually against the counter. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. I’m always gonna look out for you.”

Best friend. The words sting more than they should. I force a tight smile and nod, avoiding her gaze as I take another sip of coffee. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

She studies me for a moment, her brows furrowing slightly like she can sense something’s off. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve been kinda… off since last night.”

“I’m fine,” I lie quickly, my voice a little too sharp. “Just tired. Long night, you know?”

Vi doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press the issue. Instead, she flashes me one of her soft smiles—the kind that always made my heart race—and pats my shoulder. “Alright, but if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

As she turns back to her coffee, I slip out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, finally letting out the breath I was holding. Her kindness is suffocating. It’s not her fault, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not.

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the mug in my hands. My reflection ripples faintly in the dark surface of the coffee. I know I need to let go of her, but every time I think I’ve made progress, she pulls me back in with her warmth, her care, her effortless Vi-ness.

So, I decide. My plan is to avoid her at all costs. Without raising suspicion, of course. I’ll only talk to her when absolutely necessary, keep things short, and focus on getting over her. Maybe I’ll pick up a new hobby, bury myself in work, or—hell—sign up for yoga. Anything to distract myself from her.

──────────────────────

By day three of my new, revolutionary plan, it already felt like hell. Who would’ve thought that avoiding the only constant presence in your life could hurt so much? Definitely not me! I mean, wasn’t this supposed to make things easier? Create some distance, set boundaries, and magically get over her? Turns out, it was not that simple.

It’s already hard enough to build this invisible wall between us—turning down her invitations to hang out, pretending I’m too tired for our late-night talks. But the real kicker? Realizing she’s the only person I could talk to about anything. And now, there’s this huge, gaping void in my life.

Shitty day at work? No Vi to rant to, no shitty jokes to lighten my mood.

The five-thousand-year-old professor dragging me through a painfully boring lecture? No Vi to dramatically reenact it with, complete with fake snoring.

A terrible grade in the one class I was confident about? No Vi to cheer me up with ice cream and terrible rom-coms—ones she’d always complain about being “too cheesy” but inevitably get teary-eyed over by the end, especially when the main couple had their big dramatic kiss.

The plan, on paper, had sounded so simple. Just avoid her. Easy, right? But the thing is, how do you avoid someone who’s everywhere? How do you avoid someone who’s ingrained in every part of your life, like a second heartbeat? Someone whose laugh echoes in your head even when they’re not around, whose scent lingers on your clothes like a bittersweet reminder, whose touch stays imprinted on your skin long after they’ve left the room?

How do you get over someone who feels like home?

And the worst part? She notices. She notices my hesitation, my distance, the way I flinch when her hand brushes mine. She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her watching, her gaze heavy with unspoken questions.

Things were so bad I actually considered calling my mom for advice. My mom! Of all people. And, if you knew the kind of unsolicited advice my mom likes to give, you’d understand just how desperate I was. What would I even say? “Hey, Mom, quick question—how do you get over being completely, hopelessly in love with your best friend who has no clue and never will?”

Spoiler alert: I didn’t make that call.

Instead, I decided to just push through. That’s what everyone does, right? Push through, stay busy, keep my head down.

The easiest part about my so-called plan was that it seemed like Vi had started avoiding me too. After two weeks of blowing her off and coming up with increasingly absurd excuses—"Sorry, I’ve got this huge paper due" or "Can’t, I promised my supervisor I’d get an early shift"—it felt like she finally gave up. She stopped asking me to hang out, stopped knocking on my door late at night to chat or watch something stupid on TV.

Now, I only saw her in passing—brief, awkward moments between our schedules, like two strangers forced to share the same space. And then there were the nights. The nights were the worst. I’d wake up in the middle of them sometimes, thirsty or restless, only to hear her at the door, whispering a soft goodbye to yet another random girl she was sending home.

I tried not to think about what went on behind her bedroom door, tried not to let my mind wander to the sounds I might hear if I were closer. But the knowledge of it, the fact that it was happening, was enough.

I did all of this to stop hurting—to move on, to get over her. So why wasn’t it working?

Why did her absence hurt even more than her presence? Why did the thought of her holding someone else make me sick to my stomach, like all the air had been sucked out of the room?

Wasn’t this supposed to get easier with time? Instead, it felt like I was sinking further into it, this endless cycle of pain and longing.

──────────────────────

chapters

notes: who would have thought that ignoring your problems wouldn’t make them go away 😱😱 (self-criticism)

[c0eu4]

OP81 | Hard work ☁︎

Summary: After the biggest exam of her entire life, y/n found Oscar in front of her university, waiting for her.

Warning: fluff, anxious reader?

A/N: Just had some inspiration for that after one exam I had and totally fucked up it lol

MASTERLIST requests are open

Her hand hurts, she can't write anymore. Her copies filled with blue pen in front of her, she read it again one last time until the time limit rings.

A weight immediately lifts from her shoulders. She knows she succeeded. She didn't spend nights and days behind her computer, scribbling things on her notepad and repeating her lessons to Oscar for nothing.

She untied her hair down, puts her pens in her pencil case and puts it in her bag. She puts her coat on her back and grabs her copies. She puts her bag on her back, places her copies in the storage area and heads towards the exit of the building.

She closes her coat as she walks, putting on her mittens and shoving her hands in her pockets.

The cold of winter is felt. She pulls up her coat to hide her chin and leaves the building. Her cheeks and nose quickly turn red from the cold as she walks towards the gate.

Once on the other side of it, she walks towards the street which leads to the metro, to return home.

Her friends suggested that they spend time together in their usual little café but she preferred to refuse, knowing that she would be too tired after her exam.

She continues walking a few meters before seeing her boyfriend, leaning against his car, a coffee in his hand and looking at her, a big smile on his face.

She smiles when she sees him and walks more quickly towards him. She takes refuge directly in his arms, on the verge of crying. After all the stress she has accumulated, all the work she has done, she has every right to take a break. He hugged her tightly, warping his warm arms around her waist.

''I'm so proud of you my love.'' She can't help but blush a little more when she hears his compliment, his australian accent still makes her fall in love even more.

She separates from him, taking the coffee that he offers her.

''Don't burn yourself.'' She nodded quickly and took a sip of the warm liquids.

''Thank you baby.'' He kissed her forehead and opened the passenger door for her.

She sits there and Oscar sits next to her, behind the wheel. He starts the engine and drives them to their shared flat.

Throughout the trip, she talks to him about his exam. Passing by the two hundred and thirty three bananas that a man bought in a problem to triangular figures mixing the theorem of Pythagoras and Thales.

He listens to her, without interrupting her, taking advantage of her voice that he hasn't heard all day.

Once home, she continues talking about her exam. She speaks faster and faster and spreads the subject even more. And Oscar feels that it makes her stressed to talk about it.

So he cuts her off, ''Y/n, don't you want to stop talking about that ? You always speak fast when you're stressed.''

She sighed. Not in a disappointing way, but more because she knows that he's right.

''Yeah sorry if I bother you with that.'' She simply says, taking off her shoes and coat.

''You never bother me love. I just said that for you to relax.'' He takes a hanger to hang his and her coat.

They both walk towards the kitchen, she is already taking the milk out of the fridge and him rummaging on the shelf to get two cups.

It's a little ritual that they both have. Every time, when one or the other is stressed, they prepare hot chocolates. Because it's not a secret that Oscar loves chocolate and it's not a secret that y/n loves the feelings of hot liquids.

He puts the cups full of milk in the microwave and takes out the cocoa. She rummages through a shelf and pulls out some little chocolate marshmallow teddy bears.

Once the milk is hot, Oscar adds the cocoa to the two cups and a few teddy bears to his cup.

''I will never be able to understand how you drink your chocolate with teddy bears.'' She always hated putting teddy bears in her chocolate. Not that she doesn't like marshmallows, but she hates anything that's hard and gets mushy (Without a second thought).

''You don't know what you're missing.'' She puts a few bears in her mouth and eats them.

''Na you, you don't know what you're doing.'' He giggles and steals a few bears from her hands to eat it.

''Hey! I'm going to tell Mark what you're doing !''

He kisses her cheeks, putting one of his hands in her lower back, heading her towards the couch. They sit in, they cups of hot chocolate in hand, a warm blanket on them.

She is looking for a new series to watch on Netflix, Oscar eating his teddy bear with his spoon.

When she finally finds something good to watch, she takes a sip of her chocolate and gets a little closer to Oscar.

They end the day like that, in front of their series, cuddling each other.

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Fifteen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and angst. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : I'm sorry for using the word buttocks. I'm deeply ashamed rn...

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Fifteen

Sleeping in until three in the afternoon helped you skip the worst of your hangover, but you didn’t feel any better. In fact you felt like shit.

You hated what you’d done to Matt, hated that you kept dragging Karen into your problems and, most of all, you hated that you kept letting Billy have so much power over you. Something needed to change, you weren’t prepared to carry on that way. You’d reached your lowest point, felt broken in a new and more painful way.

It had to stop.

The idea came upon you slowly, starting as an insidious notion while you were eating breakfast that only seemed to become more insistent as you showered.

You needed to leave.

Every reason you had to stay had evaporated last night. You didn’t belong here with any of them - maybe you didn’t belong anywhere at all. And you were just so so tired of every day feeling so miserable and alone.

Before you really knew what you were doing, you’d stepped out into the penthouse and made your way to the elevator, to the intercom, to your only way out.

The intercom crackled and buzzed far louder than you expected. You hit the button twice and then waited. It was the middle of the day, Lissa was probably sleeping, but impatience got the better of you and you hit the button again. You barely noticed the tears that were rolling down your cheeks, your finger jabbing the button again.

“What are you doing?” 

His voice filled the penthouse and, for a moment, you didn’t dare turn around, you just kept pushing the intercom, over and over, not wanting to face him.

“I said -”

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you finally turned. 

He was right behind you, far too close for comfort. Billy seemed taken aback by your tears and you took that moment of confusion to pull away from him and to start moving back towards your rooms.

“You win,” you told him, barely keeping your voice from breaking. “I’m done. I’m leaving.”

“What?” 

There was hurt in that word, a pain that he didn’t deserve an ounce of pity for but, still, it turned your stomach to think that you might have upset or hurt him in any way. But that was the difference between you and him, you cared about his pain while he barely even seemed to notice yours.

“I’m leaving,” you said again, “I quit.”

“No,” he said like he didn’t understand, like he couldn’t figure out what had led to the decision. 

“No?” You repeated, heartache and anger filling your voice. How dare he try to fight for you now. “You don’t get to tell me no after everything you’ve done to me, Billy.”

“I -” he started and stopped, uncertain which of his many crimes against you that you were most upset about. “I'm sorry. I fucked up, I know I fucked up, but -”

Against your better judgement you stopped dead in your tracks and turned to face him.

“But what? What excuse do you possibly think you have for keeping me prisoner and lying to my friends?” You asked, your voice getting louder each time he made you respond to him. “This is what you wanted.”

“I didn't want this.” His voice rose to match yours, almost frantic. “I just needed time to -”

“What? Find someone else?” You snapped. “Two someone else’s? Did you take them all to bed last night?”

“No,” he answered just as sharply. “I wanted to - before you, I would have - but they aren’t you. You’re the only one I want.”

“Am I supposed to believe that? After all the lies?”

“I just spent the last few weeks trying to get you out of my head, but I can’t.” An uneasy desperation started to fill his voice, every word sounding more fraught than you’d ever heard him. “You’re like sunlight, I - I can’t stop thinking about how you feel and, when I’m not with you, I miss you so fucking much.”

“Stop lying to me!” Your own voice turning just as fraught, hating that he was doing this to you now that you’d made the difficult decision to leave.

You started moving again, getting closer to the door leading to your rooms and, of course, Billy realised that if you reached your bedroom, he wouldn’t be able to follow. When you tried to open the adjoining door, you soon found his hand on it, stopping you. You turned, pressing back against the wood, trying to create some space between you as you glared at him, silently demanding he move.

“Please, just listen to me,” he tried again.

“Why?”

“Because losing you would kill me.”

His confession seemed to suck all the air from the room and, while every rational part of you was screaming at you not to believe him, the way he said it sounded so certain, so raw. 

“You wanted to send me away,” you told him again. “You wanted me to leave.”

“I wanted you to be safe,” he said, his gaze dropping to your broken arm, his voice breaking. “Just look at you, look what I did...”

He’d been so cold and emotionless after it had happened, when he’d first asked you to leave, but hearing him now, seeing the look on his face... you finally understood just how much the situation had fucked him up. It seemed like your decision to leave had unnerved him enough to force some honesty from him.

You couldn’t speak. It felt like all the anger had drained from you and, instead, there was something else inside you, the sort of pain that you couldn’t put a name to. He’d hurt you. Over and over. And you weren’t going to make excuses for him, but now he was finally letting you see how much it had hurt him too, it left you feeling unsettled.

“I thought I could let you go if it meant you’d be safe,” he muttered, his gaze still fixed on your cast.

“And now?”

You watched as he took a shuddered breath, tension coiling in his body as he struggled to find the words. The silence seemed to stretch on and all you could hear was the echo of your heart, pounding in your chest. And you knew Billy could hear it too. 

With every second that passed in silence, you started to lose hope.

“You terrify me,” he confessed in a whisper. “Everything about you, the way you make me feel; it’s all terrifying to me. And I can’t - I don’t understand it.”

You didn’t dare speak, wanting him to continue without prompt or provocation. Anything he said had to be because he wanted to say it. This was his chance to finally be honest and lay all of his cards on the table before you left. So, you waited, barely breathing as he seemed to fight with every rational part of himself to say the words.

“I wish I could stop feeling like this. I wish I could just let you go.”

“Why can’t you?” Your voice broke as you tried to hold back a flood of fresh tears. “You don’t want me, so why keep me here?”

“Stop saying that. Of course I want you. It kills me how much I want you,” he told you, still not looking at you, still staring at your arm, his head hung. “But it kills me just as much knowing that I’ll lose you no matter what I do. Even if you stayed by my side the rest of your life, and I’d still have to watch you grow old and slip away from me.”

Your breath caught, realising you’d never thought of it that way. When you’d told him you wanted to stay, you hadn’t been thinking about the future, about spending your life with him. But Billy wasn’t like you, a year to him would seem like nothing in the grand scheme of things. So would your lifetime. 

“You’ll grow old and die, and you’d miss out on so much because of me. There’s so many things I can’t give you… so many things you deserve...”

The thing that hurt most of all was how he’d obviously thought all of it through, how he’d considered what a future together would look like, but he hadn’t once tried to talk to you about it to find out what you wanted.

“I know I can’t keep you, but it’s just -” he let out an agitated huff “- it’s not fair. You’re the one person who makes this life, this existence bearable, and you hate me. You were the best thing to happen to me and I ruined it. I just wanted a little more time...”

Finally he looked up, his jaw clenching uncomfortably, his dark eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I don’t want to hurt you again but I don’t want you to go,” he almost pleaded. “Please, don’t go...”

It was your turn to talk, the moment to stick to your guns and tell him you were leaving, but the words just wouldn’t come. Tears were still rolling down your cheeks and you hated how much pain you were both in. Finally, he’d been honest and it was enough to make you wish he’d stuck with his lies.

“Please, say something,” he said after a minute had passed in silence.

“I’m tired, Billy,” you confessed, “I’m so tired of everything always being a fight or an argument...” 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I’ve put you through all of this.”

He dared to reach for you, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand, a ghost of a touch. But that touch was a comfort that you had been desperately craving, a comfort that you’d tried to find with Matt the night before, a comfort that you were finally realising only Billy could provide.

“Everything seems so pointless without you,” he muttered.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you felt the exact same way.

You loved him and nothing was going to change that.

Your heart stuttered, your hand slowly turning, cautiously letting your fingers brush against his before lacing them together and taking hold of his hand. A relieved sound escaped him and you felt his fingers tighten around yours.

“I won't hurt you again,” he promised and, this time, you actually believed him.

He reached for your cheek, thumb gently wiping away your tears.

A minute must have passed and neither of you seemed willing to move or pull away, so Billy cleared the distance and kissed you. It was soft at first, a tender reaffirmation and reignition of all the feelings you’d been trying to snuff out. He pressed closer, the kiss eventually turning more heated until his body was against yours and your broken arm was wrapped around him, cast pressing into his back and pulling him against you.

It was a slow descent into frenzy, but you both seemed to know where it was heading.

When he lifted you off your feet, your legs wrapped around him. You barely paid attention to where he was taking you, too caught up in his kiss.

Under different circumstances you might have taken a moment to realise that you were finally seeing his bedroom; you would have paid more attention to the dark and cold colour scheme and the smattering of photographs on the wall, or maybe you would have noticed the large walk-in closet, filled with his suits. But all you saw was the bed and all you wanted to pay attention to was Billy.

He kept kissing you and, by the time he put you down, your legs felt weak.

You both moved on auto-pilot, both needing and wanting so desperately that undressing each other was just a formality. There was no wonderment in slowly uncovering him because you’d seen him so many times and, this time, you were aching for so much more. You barely even pulled back from the kiss to look at him as his shirt, then pants, fell away.

Once you were both down to your underwear, you reached for him, your hand cupping his cock, feeling how it was already throbbing and hard for you, the tip already peeking out from beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“Hummingbird,” he groaned as deft fingers unhooked your bra and pulled it away from you.

His hands slid up your stomach to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and tracing his thumbs over your achingly hard nipples. He kissed you again, languidly and slowly. Your hand cupped him and stroked him through his boxers, earning another groan that you happily swallowed down, his hips moving, gently pressing himself into your touch.

A hand gripped your waist as he slowly guided you backwards. When you felt the bed against the back of your legs, you moved, climbing onto it and pulling him with you, 

You fell back, legs instinctively parting for him, allowing him to settle between your thighs. He tested the water by pressing his hips down against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against you.

“Billy,” you gasped, arching your body into his.

“What do you need, hummingbird?” He asked, though you were already certain that he knew the answer.

“You, Billy,” you answered, already breathless, “I need you.”

He reached down between your bodies, cupping you through your panties, biting his lip when he felt just how wet they were. Billy didn’t bother trying to remove them, he settled for tearing them away from your body.

“You’re so wet already,” he said, wasting no time before pushing a finger inside you, causing your back to arch. He pulled it out just as quick before pushing in two and starting to fuck you with them.

“Billy,” you moaned with the intensity of it. 

It had been over six weeks since he’d last touched you, but he hadn’t forgotten a thing. You cried out as his fingers curled inside you, your walls clenching around him, gripping him tight. But it wasn’t his fingers you wanted, and Billy seemed to know that.

“I know,” he muttered as he pressed his lips to your neck. “Soon, hummingbird, I just need to make sure you’re ready for me...”

“Please...” you heard yourself begging, completely losing yourself to him.

“First you’re going to take my fingers, then my tongue, and then you’ll get my cock,” he told you.

Just the thought of it had you shivering.

Your breath caught as a third finger slipped inside you, stretching you and pushing you closer to an orgasm you didn’t have permission to have. At some point, your fingers had tangled in his hair and you were tugging far harder than you should.

“Do you want to come for me?” He whispered into your ear, and all you could do was keen in response. “Then come for me, little hummingbird.”

It was automatic, your body doing exactly as he wanted. You cried out and moaned his name as your walls started to convulse and flutter around his fingers. Fingers that kept moving, dragging out the sensation of ecstacy. You pulled his lips to yours and kissed him, trembling and moaning as his tongue found yours.

But he didn’t linger. Soon he was moving down your body, lips and tongue trailing a clear path from your lips, over your chest and stomach, and down to the apex of your thighs. You shivered in anticipation, seeing his dark eyes staring up at you from between your legs, his fingers parting your folds and -

“Billy,” you cried out as his tongue slid against your trembling flesh.

Your back arched and you tried to lift your hips to press against his mouth, but Billy quickly gripped your thighs and held you in place, determined to stay in control of your pleasure. His tongue moved to your clit, licking with the lightest pressure, barely a ghost of a touch but it was enough to have you breathless.

Finally his attention moved lower, lapping against your slick entrance before pressing the tip inside. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, so possessively, your hips would have shot off the bed but, instead, all you could do was cry out as his tongue continued to lick into you.

At some point, your fingers had found their way to his hair again and you were holding him just as tightly as he was holding you, trying to pull him against him, demanding more. And Billy didn’t disappoint. 

He fucked you with his tongue, not stopping to give you permission to come but, instead, fixing you with a hungry look. 

Your whole body tensed before you came on his tongue, but Billy didn’t stop. He continued to devour you, returning his attention to your clit, pushing you from one orgasm right into the next.

“Please,” you begged, feeling like you were about to shatter into a million tiny pieces, “no more. I can’t take any more.”

And, finally, he relented. Billy crawled back up your body, his chin and lips glistening with your wetness. He kissed you eagerly and your lips parted for him, tasting yourself in his mouth, while your hands forced his boxers down.

You’d already come three times, but just the press of his cock at your wet entrance was enough to make your breath catch. You were already intimately familiar with how big he was but it still made you nervous. Looking down you watched him tease his tip between your folds until it glistened with a mixture of your arousal and his own pre-cum.

Then, his cock surged into you, filling you in one rough thrust, catching you off-guard and causing your over-sensitive pussy to tremble as you struggled to adjust to his size. He pulled back before filling you again and again before coming to an abrupt stop buried deep inside you, leaving you shaking beneath him.

He looked down at you, a mixture of remorse and shame on his face and it took you a moment to realise why; he thought he was being too rough with you.

You reached for him, your hand pressing against his cheek. 

“It’s okay,” you told him softly, “I don’t want you to hold back.”

“But what if I -” he started and you shook your head.

“Are you here with me? Are you in control?” You asked and Billy gave a definite nod. “Then fuck me, Billy.” You told him, feeling your cheeks warm at how brazen it sounded.

You moaned as you felt him start to move again, every hard inch taking what he needed from you, every thrust causing your walls to flutter and clench, gripping him tight. Everything had been building to this moment, months of foreplay finally leading somewhere. It was no wonder he couldn’t hold back. 

“Fuck, hummingbird, you keep gripping my cock like that and I’m not going to last,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “Is that what you want? You want me to come inside you?”

No words left your mouth, just an eager, desperate moan as you stared up at him, lust and desire written all over his handsome face, putting to rest any lingering doubts that you had about his feelings for you.

He kissed you again and again, and you lost yourself to everything he was doing to you. You lost yourself to him. Every time he pulled back, he left you feeling empty and every time he plunged forward left you feeling like all your prayers had been answered.

“Come for me,” he demanded, as if he knew it was building in you before you did.

As commanded, your body started to shudder, coming undone as you moaned his name. His hips slowed, leisurely fucking you through another orgasm, sending more desperate sparks of arousal through your body. It was overwhelming. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You weren’t sure you could go on but you were certain that you couldn’t stop. You wanted more. You wanted everything.

And luckily for you, Billy was just getting started.

“You good?” He asked, his fingers brushing sweat slicked  hair away from your brow.

“Yeah,” you answered breathlessly, too overcome to even force a smile. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.”

Billy smiled, kissing you softly, still moving slowly, waiting until your walls finally stopped trembling so much.

He gripped your leg, his hand behind your knee, pulling it upwards, opening you to him, while his other hand reached over you to grip the headboard. For a second he paused, looking down at you, waiting for permission. You bit your lip before nodding.

Nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of what followed. He pulled back slowly before plunging his thick cock into you again, deeper than before, making you realise that you hadn’t taken all of him before then. You let out an incomprehensible cry as you felt his tip graze your cervix, the sensation causing you to clench around him.

Looking down between your bodies, you watched as he started to fuck you, his hips setting a relentless pace, his grip on the headboard helping his powerful movements as he pushed you down into the mattress with each thrust. You felt out of control. No, you felt like you were giving control to Billy, letting him have it because you knew that was what he needed.

“Look at me,” he demanded, sounding just as breathless as you were.

Your eyes found his, and that sight alone was almost enough to make you come. His jaw was clenched and his unblinking eyes were watching every flicker of emotion that passed your face. He was looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, like he was committing every second of this to memory and leaving you feeling more wanted than you ever had.

“My hummingbird,” he groaned, “I’ll never let you go.”

You couldn’t answer, not when every rough, rapid-fire thrust of his hips was forcing moan after moan from you. 

Your hands slipped down his back over cold, sweat-slicked skin, right the way down until your fingers were gripping his buttocks, pressing your fingernails into his flesh. That only seemed to spur him on, moving faster, harder, claiming you with every shift of his hips.

“I want to feel you come again,” he told you.

This time you tried to hold back, fighting every urge that told you to give into the pleasure, wanting it to last, wanting Billy to keep fucking you into the mattress. But then you felt his hand on your throat, just beneath your chin, not squeezing, but gripping tight enough to get your full atention.

“I said I want to feel you come,” his voice almost became a growl, his fingers tentatively tightening their grip on your throat.

You couldn’t deny him. You don't want to, not when you were completely at his mercy. This sudden escalation should have scared you, but some part of you trusted him, some part of you was enjoying this and was desperate for more. Finally, there was no doubt in your mind that he wanted this, wanted you.

Your head fell back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you, his fingers gripping tighter as he continued to drive his cock into you. You swore and cried out his name, over and over as he forced you through the most intense climax of your life. Your vision went white and Billy kept going until you couldn’t take any more.

He pulled out suddenly, leaving your body desperately clenching and grasping around nothing, feeling unbearably empty. Your whole body shuddered with the intensity of it all, and Billy just watched as you fell apart for him. It seemed to go on and on, your body shaking uncontrollably, your eyes refusing to focus. You felt starved for touch, and even though you were falling apart, you felt needy and desperate for more than just the touch of his fingers on your throat.

Billy didn’t move until the worst of the tremors had subsided, pulling his hand from your throat as he lowered himself over you again. His lips pressed against yours in a chaste and gentle kiss, a tenderness in his eyes, as he slowly sank his cock back into your sensitive pussy. 

This time his movements were gentle, allowing you to really enjoy the feel of him inside you. Your fingers slipped through his hair and even though he was being so gentle now, you still felt tender and overwhelmed. It felt like something had broken inside of you, like he’d managed to fuck your head empty, and now all you could think about was him and how good it felt everytime he filled you with his cock.

His hands framed your face, holding you as he kissed you, and it felt like everything had been leading to this moment. Now that you’d both sated the urgent desires that had been building in you over the last few months, you could finally take your time with each other. 

You lost yourself in the gentle kiss, in the feeling of him loving you and not just fucking you, slowly climbing towards another orgasm and, this time, Billy seemed primed to join you. 

Towards the end, he started to pick up speed, his groans stacking, his face buried against your neck.

“Come, hummingbird,” he grunted.

The moment you let go, you felt him start to pulse inside you, the sensation causing you to shiver. He gave a couple more thrusts before finally stilling deep inside you, groaning against your neck as his orgasm gripped him.

When you’d pictured sex with Billy, this was not how it had played out, this was not how you saw it ending. You felt boneless, completely overwhelmed and exhausted. For a few moments you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. And, when he finally pulled out, you felt the telltale trickle of cum between your thighs.

For the next couple of hours he held you. Neither of you spoke, both having said so much already. You drifted in and out of sleep, always waking to find him holding you securely, his cold body pressed to your back. 

You were half-asleep when you felt his fingers between your legs, parting your folds and guiding his cock into you. Your back arched against his chest as he started to fuck you from behind, letting out a soft moan as he teased your clit. His free hand gripped your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you, slipping his tongue between your lips before you could think to say anything.

His movements started off slow and sensual, letting you enjoy the sensations of him moving inside you and the way your body stretched to accommodate him. You still felt tender from earlier but any discomfort was quickly forgotten.

“Fuck, hummingbird,” he muttered against your lips, “your tight little pussy takes me so well...”

“Billy,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut, still exhausted but wanting more.

“I’ll never get over the way you grip my cock. It’s like you were made just for me,” he continued in that low, seductive mutter. “Can you feel it?

“Yes,” you whined as your hand awkwardly reached behind you to settle on his hip, wanting to touch him.

It stayed like that for a few long minutes, Billy taking his time with you, smiling at every gasp and moan he managed to pull from you.

Then, without warning, he started to rut into you, his movements becoming desperate and sloppy until you felt him twitch and pulse inside you. You started to shift your hips, clumsily riding him as he spilled inside you. Realising that you hadn’t come, he resumed teasing your clit and groaned in your ear.

“Come for me, hummingbird,” he pleaded and you soon did as you were asked.

“I love you,” you moaned, turning to press your face into the pillow as your body succumbed to the pleasure coursing through it.

All Billy gave was a hum in response. There was no question in your mind that he’d heard those three little words, even as his body shivered behind you, and he lost himself in his own pleasure. After everything, you didn’t expect to hear it back, you didn’t expect him to confess more than he already had. You just wanted him to know.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, too exhausted to move or lift your head again, your eyes closing. Billy pulled you tight against him and held you there until you fell asleep again.

The next time you woke, it was to Billy getting out of bed. You watched him stroll into his walk-in wardrobe and he didn’t notice you were awake until he returned with a suit and shirt.

“I’m really sorry,” he told you softly, “I have to go in to work for a few hours, Frank’ll kill me if I don’t, but you can stay in here and rest and I’ll see you when I get home?” 

There was something in his voice that almost made it feel like he was asking your permission, like he didn’t know how you were going to react. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you wanted to react; you’d just spend the afternoon having the most earth-shattering sex of your life, and now he needed to go to work.

“Okay,” you muttered sleepily, knowing you couldn’t keep him from his job, not after all the time he’d already lost.

You watched as he headed into his bathroom and you listened as he took a quick shower before emerging dressed and ready to go. If you had been so tired you would have appreciated the sight of him in his light grey suit, looking devilishly handsome. Instead you could barely lift your head when he kissed you goodbye.

Around half an hour after he left, you managed to get up and return to your rooms. You took a long shower, exhausted but unable to keep your mind from racing over everything that had happened and what that meant going forward.

Everything he’d said, the way he’d looked at you when you were together; it was too much. It played over and over in your head until it became deafening in the silence of the penthouse. He’d been right about everything. You suddenly understood why he’d tried so hard to keep some distance between you, why he’d never wanted anything beyond the physical. You knew that losing you to illness or old age would kill him.

And you loved him far too much to put him through that.

You were left with only one option; hurt him now to save him from more pain later.

(Or maybe it wasn’t that at all, maybe you were just scared that he was going to hurt you again. As much as you hated yourself for your little admission of love during sex, it still caused your stomach to knot thinking about how he hadn’t said it back. What if he never said it?)

It wasn’t long before you found yourself by the intercom again, pressing the button, waiting for a response and, when you finally heard Lissa’s voice...

“I need my things, I want to leave...”

End Note : 😅😅😅😅 like I said last week 'trust me, I have a plan'. At least they actually got to fuck this time 😅 Also, just as a potential warning, I'm not 100% sure if next weeks chapter will be on time; I'm away for a couple of days and my birthday is next weekend. I have already started chapter 16 though so I will try to get it posted at the normal time. If I can't get it done, I'll post something to let people know and probably try to post two chapters the week after.

Also, I now have an AO3 account (it's hungermakesmonsters) I'm planning on posting things there as well as here but things will probably always end up on tumblr first, so don't feel like you have to follow me there or anything. As always, thanks for all your support and the likes/screaming in the comments/reblogs! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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[studiogrimm810]

Not Made For This

pairings: (pining) psychic!sam winchester x gn!you, dean is also there

summary: after following one of sam’s visions, sam and dean meet another psychic kid who had the same vision as sam and he starts to take a protective liking to them

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, psychic visions

word count: 5,506

A/N: this was a request! i hope i did the idea justice!! this definitely went on a bit longer than intended but i had a lot of fun writing it. enjoy! ^.^

———————

Soft rain pattered on the foggy window that Sam’s head lay against. By the end of the day, they would arrive at the scene of his latest premonition. Sam kept a watchful eye on any news reports from the area due to a painful paranoia of if he’s too late.

It was late last night when Sam was so rudely torn from sleep with the adrenaline rush of yet another vision of some poor soul losing their life. This time, it had been a middle aged woman with curly red hair and a nose dusted with freckles. She appeared to be an innocent woman, a happy woman with a smile that almost calmed Sam during his vision. But her life was so needlessly taken by some thief with an eager trigger-finger.

There was another person he saw in the far background- a blurry, anxiety ridden figure, frozen in place, as the impact of the bullet with the woman’s chest woke Sam with a start. He quickly woke Dean to instruct that they needed to start driving to the landmark Sam spotted in his vision- some pub in Scottsdale, Arizona.

Sam hadn’t been able to get a wink of rest since. They’d been on the road for almost 9 hours and they were only halfway there.

“We should switch out, Dean, I can take it from here,” Sam offered, sitting up in his seat, he hoped that the distraction of driving, and the quiet lack of a 10th repeat of one of Dean favorite tapes, would provide enough spatial clarity to calm him just enough to survive this trip.

“You’re running on 2 hours, kid, I’m not risking you crashin’ my baby,” Dean scoffs with an upturned lip, rustling Sam’s hair just to mess with him. Dean would never admit this to Sam, but having his baby brother next to him on the road was something he never knew he needed until he lost it, and now he would relish in any moment with Sam to savor the pettiness of annoying his sibling.

“You’re not much better,” Sam sasses as he pulls away his head from Dean’s hand with a scowl. “Just let me know if you get too tired.” Sam rests his head back on the window, watching raindrops race each other as they descend the slick glass.

Dean's gaze hardens as Sam shuts down again. He hoped that Sam had finally snapped out of his funk since his vision. Dean worries about Sam, knowing these visions of people dying aren’t really sitting well with Sam, but there’s nothing he can do about it except help Sam save those they can. So that’s why he straightens his posture, turns his music down just a hair, and focuses on the dampened road before him.

———

The wash of dread that riddles Sam as the Impala passes a scene of police tape and flashing lights make him physically sick. Dean quickly parks the car to allow Sam to find the nearest patch of grass to empty his already depleted stomach.

They had rolled into town just after dark and were looking for a motel when sirens caught their attention and led them here. Dean stepped a bit closer to observe the scene, finding a dark puddle of blood on half rain-dried patch of pavement in an alley. The scent of gunpowder was still fresh along with a stench of sulfur, mixing with the warm rain.

Sam spit to clear out his mouth the best he could and tried to push down the gnawing guilt that came with his failure. He held his head high to prevent any pooling of tears in his lids and tried to collect himself.

Once he felt he had a semblance of apathy, he turned to find his brother who tepidly paced the span of police tape to gather any visual or auditory information. Sam had to pull his gaze away to keep himself in check. His eyes scraped over the crowd that had formed, some concerned faces, others curious. But one spectator stood out, a person who’s expression could only be described as devastation.

Their eyes were widened with exhausted fear and it was clear they were in shock. Their mouth was agape and a hand hovering just a few inches away to cover part of their face. They looked ready to dart as they took a few cautious steps back and their eyes remained locked in the gurney rolling a bagged body into a van labeled ‘MORGUE’.

Sam’s brows furrowed as his eyes watched the figure as they darted up the street. Sam wastes no time to follow them. He doesn’t know what the pull is or why it’s there but it’s strong. It’s like he can’t help his feet as they chase the stranger. He even ignores Dean’s calls for him.

The figure turns down an alley and Sam picks up his pace to keep up. As he reaches the corner, he slows as the sounds of panicked breathing echo from the brick.

Dean, who reluctantly followed Sam in his spontaneous dart, calls out, “what the hell, Sammy?” Sam snaps his head back, holding his finger to his tight lips.

“Wait here,” Sam whispers. Dean becomes even more curious but respects his brother's instructions- for once, Sam thinks.

Sam walks around the corner, trying to find the source of the hyperventilation, and his eyes land on you.

Your eyes were still wide and panicked like they were at the scene. You were shaking terribly and uttering nonsense as you tried to talk yourself down. Sam couldn’t make out what you were saying.

He took a cautious step forward, looking you over for anything out of the ordinary or any injuries.

“Excuse me,” Sam calls softly, hoping to not startle you. He failed.

You flinched at his voice, body tensing as you took in his disheveled appearance and sleepy eyes lined with heavy bags.

“I, um,” he didn’t really have a plan of what to say. “Are you okay?”

The sight of a sudden stranger shocked your lungs a bit to settle just enough, as if they reset, but your lungs still felt tight and the tremble through your core made you shiver.

“I’m Sam,” he offers, taking another step closer.

A sudden sharp throb in his skull made him gasp as an image flashed before his eyes. The image of the figure in the background of his vision, it was you. He weakly pulls himself back together but your prying eyes watching him struggle to keep a straight posture makes him flush in embarrassment.

“You knew her,” he states simply with a heavy rise of his chest catching his breath after the rattle in his skull.

“H-how do you know that?” The voice that pours out of your mouth is sweet like syrup. A gentle settle onto Sam’s ears like a balm.

“Just a guess,” Sam scoffs lightly, letting out the air his body subconsciously stored as he awaited your reaction.

“Why did you follow me?” You ask, darting your eyes down to his hands, then his hips, then his face again. You looked for any potential threats because you were now cornered in this alley by a very tall stranger.

Sam realized his mistake.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he takes a few steps to the side, opening a clearing for you to walk past him if you deem it necessary.

Your instinct is to bolt again, but you don’t.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Sam answers, keeping soft, discerning eyes on you.

You don’t know how to answer, you’re absolutely not okay. Three hours ago, you had a migraine that flashed images of your history professor being mugged just outside of the bar most students and teachers on campus frequent. It was completely irrational and most likely nothing, but your paranoia got the best of you and you had to go out just to make certain. Sure enough, Dr. Evans was at the bar with another professor and when they parted ways at the end of the night, it was a frame by frame replica of the horrific scene that invaded your mind just a few hours before. You were frozen and couldn’t believe it.

But you couldn’t tell Sam that, he would think you’re crazy, right?

“I’m fine,” you say with no emotion to back you up but plenty of hesitation to work against your mask of nonchalance.

“You saw it happen,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Your eyes widen again with a glossy veil of tears.

“How do you know that?” You echo an already asked question. You had no clue who this guy was but he seemed to know everything about what’s wrong with you at the moment- well, not everything.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Sam shakes his head. He doesn’t know what makes him so confident, but he knows he has you pinned. “You saw it, like before it happened.”

Okay, so maybe everything. Seriously, who the fuck is this guy?

“It’s okay,” Sam hurriedly follows upon seeing the twist of complete perplexity. “I saw it too, and you were there,” in his head, this was reassuring, but he definitely feels like he’s freaking you out even more.

“What the fuck-,” you exhale a laugh of incredulity, tilting your head back with a roll of your eyes. You’re actually losing it. This is it.

“No, it’s okay-.”

“You’re doing a really shitty job at this, Sammy,” a gruff voice interrupts. Around the corner, a brick wall of a man with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket emerges with a stoic glare that makes you shrink.

“Dean, I told you to wait,” Sam hisses.

“You’re freaking them out, man,” Dean gestures toward you with his elbow.

“What’s your name?” Sam zeros in on you with a pleading look of determination- sweet puppy dog eyes that show the sincerity of how much he seems to care.

You offer your name simply and when Sam echos it, it soothes you further.

“I had a vision of that woman getting shot last night,” Sam’s solemn words weigh down the tension between you, “and I think you did too.”

You look over to the man who hasn’t introduced himself yet, he stared back with a painfully unreadable expression that unsettled you. You swallow thickly as your eyes leave him and glaze over the cracked and pebbled ground beneath you.

“It didn’t feel real,” your voice leaves as a whisper and Sam listens closely, nodding softly to encourage you to continue, “it was a few hours ago,” you clear your throat and look back up at Sam with a pathetically drained expression. Sam offers a small smile, hoping to supply even a nudge of comfort. “What’s happening to me?” The desperation in your voice makes Sam’s face fall a bit and he gives the pebbles on the ground his attention for a moment.

“We’re trying to figure that out,” Sam puffs his chest with a feigned confidence and an assured nod as he looks back up at you.

“She was my favorite professor,” your voice cracks, “and I had to watch her die, twice,” your voice wavers, full of thick anguish that weighs you down through a metaphorical quicksand that threatens to swallow you whole.

Sam clenches his jaw to hold back the sting in his eyes and distract himself from the lump in his throat. He remembers his first vision, how confusing and frightening it was.

But there was something about you specifically that made him really feel for you, something about the innocence you radiated- like you had never experienced pain beyond the loss of a pet.

Sam started to form what he wanted to say to you next, but the groan that escaped your lips as you fell to your knees kicked any queued thoughts out of sight.

The images that flashed before you burned bright like the sun, making your eyes sting in the glare. You cry out softly, holding your head in your hands as waves of pressure press deeper and deeper into your skull. You feared the bone would shatter.

Through a foggy, disorienting eyeglass, you see a man in his own home making dinner, when another man breaks in and attacks the first man. The intruder's eyes held no light, they were pure onyx.

The intruder takes a large piece of glass from the window he broke through and stabs the first man more times than you can count.

The images flash away and the pressure around your skull lightens. Your breathing is labored and you feel hands on you that weren’t there before.

Sam.

He beckons your name, talking you through the attack. When you fully come to again, he’s kneeled beside you with a comforting hold on your arm and his free hand keeping you sturdy by holding your back. Dean has crouched just a few feet away from the bundle of you and Sam.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Sam nods, his large hands roaming your back innocently. “What did you see?”

He dreads to hear the answer because of the sheer exasperation on your face. The sight nearly breaks him because he knows you’re feeling what he’s felt all day- the ticking timer of someone’s life in your hands.

“B-break in,” you get out in fragments, “A man in his home and there was- was another man. The one who broke in, his- his eyes were-,” you choked on your words.

“Black?” Dean finishes for you and you nod with a heavy sigh.

“The clock on the oven said 6:43,” you added, your voice barely harnessing any body behind them.

“So we have time,” Sam concludes, still rubbing your back.

“Is there anything else you can tell us? Any details?” Dean asks.

“There was a uh- yeah,” you nod, remembering a flash of mail on the kitchen counter, “the address.”

“Perfect,” Dean shrugged with a simple smile. “We can take it from here, you should just go home- get some rest,” Dean instructs, turning to face Sam and continue speaking but you interrupt him.

“No, I’m coming with. I can help,” you insist. You couldn’t let someone die again, you couldn’t even stomach the thought.

Sam smiles softly, admiring your determination but also recognizing the fire that will burn out too soon if you don’t take care of yourself first.

“We have time,” Sam repeats with a small nod, looking back between you and Dean. “You should go and get some rest, we can meet again tomorrow.”

You really could use a warm shower and a deep sleep, but how are you supposed to get that image out of your head? You watched someone get shot, twice. And just saw someone get stabbed.

You nibble on the inside of your cheek with a soft nod.

“I’m gonna get the car, Sammy,” Dean stands, patting Sam's shoulder and disappearing back onto the street. Sam’s eyes remain on you, though, as if he were trying to dig deeper and read further into your soul.

“Are you okay?” He asks, but this time it’s more simple- sedated.

“Honestly, I hope I’m dreaming,” you say, dazed on the glistening pavement that was still wet from earlier showers.

“You’re not,” he follows, not sympathetic but also not too direct, just a simple stated fact. You liked his forwardness.

“Why us?”

“That’s an explanation for another time.”

“So you know?”

“I’m not certain.”

It’s quiet again for a moment, a small rumble of an engine nearby settles in your chest like a comfortable anchor- a hitch to the fact that you’re just some person, in some alley, in some city. Nothing special.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe out.

“You can. You shouldn’t have to, but you can,” Sam says. Again, simple.

“How long have you dealt with this? The visions, I mean,” you ask, ignoring the headlights of a vehicle you assume to be Dean’s.

“A few months, I’ve met some others like us,” Sam hopes these words are a comfort to you, that you’re not alone. Your eyes squint in disbelief that make Sam breathe out a small chuckle. “Yeah.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you shake your head, holding your panic on a tight leash since it’s already done its damage for the night. You really wished to not lose it again in front of this handsome stranger. 

“It shouldn’t,” Sam shrugs, keeping his distinct eyes on you, taking in every detail to help him understand what you’re thinking or feeling. “It’s a lot to take in. A lot to resonate with,” Sam nods in understanding, “It’s also a lot to see something like… that for the first time,” he spits out his words carefully- calculated. “If you need anything at all, all you have to do is ask.”

And he really means it.

After a moment of silence, Sam understands that you'd prefer some space so he ticks his head to the opening of the alleyway, “my brothers waiting for us.”

Ah, so Dean is his brother, you connect.

Sam stands first and reaches out his hand to help you up. Under different circumstances you may have blushed at the generous help of this gorgeous man.

Sam leads you out of the alley to the most beautifully sleek car you’ve ever seen. You don’t really know your cars too well, but you know enough to understand that this must be a classic.

Sam opens the back seat door for you and you take your seat.

“We can take ya home if you need,” Dean offers as the door opens.

“I uh,” you clear your throat, “I live on campus, just follow the signs,” you point at the various signs that lead to the school.

Dean nods simply and takes you home.

Once arrived, Sam walks you to your building, holding out a piece of paper. “Listen, if you ever need to talk, call me,” he says with those same puppy eyes that really showed he cares and makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. “And if you’re insistent on helping then give me a call in the morning and I’ll be here,” he promises, “but just don’t push yourself, okay? Get some rest.”

Out of this entire night, the only thing that feels normal is him. “Thank you, Sam,” you smile softly.

Sam can’t help but feel a rush of warmth through his stomach as he sees how beautiful you look in this moment. Frizzy hair from the rain, damp clothes, tired eyes, and yet still a thankful smile that lights you up and makes him feel accomplished. 

You turn to open the door after saying goodnight and ascend up the stairs and to your dorm.

———

“Demons?” You sat on a motel bed in front of the two men who helped you last night. Dean, you had learned from context clues, sat at the small table provided by the motel and Sam had pulled up a chair to sit across from you as he did his best to explain everything they knew about yours and his ‘conditions’.

The pile of information flooded onto your lap was awfully hard to claw through but you managed to sort just enough to not feel absolutely crazy.

So far you have learned that a ‘yellow-eyed demon’ bled into your mouth as a child, causing you to have this ‘ability’ and that you’re supposed to be part of something greater. You’ve also had to cope with demons being real, along with ghosts and a handful of other spooky creatures that you didn’t let Sam elaborate on. Demons, ghosts, and psychics felt like enough for your lifetime.

You look at the clock in the wall, seeing it was only 11am. A pit of dread carved its way deep into your stomach as the harsh reminder of someone’s life being in your hands hits you once more.

“Do you have any questions for us?,” Dean sits up, watching you carefully.

“How do you guys know all of this stuff?” You nibble at the inside of your lip.

“It’s kinda our job,” Dean shrugged, “been doing it our whole lives.” He looks over at Sam who just nods back, keeping his eyes low.

You couldn’t imagine having to deal with life and death situations constantly. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since you had your first vision and it’s already taken a toll on you. However, you admire their commitment and courage.

Sam continues to answer any questions you have and offer you as much comfort as he could provide. You talk and talk, starting with the basics and important stuff regarding your shared abilities and such, but quickly morphing into more random conversation topics. You found out he went to Stanford for a few years, even had a girlfriend, but that part of his life was lost due to the yellow-eyes demon. It helps you understand his drive and motivation.

Something Sam says earns a genuine laugh from you that locks him in a daze. He feels beyond proud for getting you to laugh at a time like this, getting you to loosen up and relax even if it’s just for this moment. He watches as your eyes light up and your toothy smile erupts with a warm chuckle.

You yourself could get lost in his dimple, each time he smiles or laughs it pokes his cheek and it’s all you can focus on.

The dome around you both locked any unwanted force out, allowing you to have this frozen moment in time just for you and him. You even begin to forget about the looming reality of 6:43pm because talking with Sam just helps. Something about his presence is so calming and it’s like you’ve known him your whole life.

———

Soon enough, it’s time to scope out the man’s home, hoping to stop the invasion. You all piled into the Impala again which quite frankly was the most comfortable car you’ve ever ridden in.

“So, how are we supposed to handle the demon?” You ask from the back seat. Sam turns around to face you better as he answers you.

“We’ll trap it and exorcise it.”

“Not before I question it,” Dean adds, hands gripping the steering wheel. “There was sulfur at the crime scene, I’m guessing it’s the same demon.”

It’s a bit jarring how normal this feels, almost like this feels more normal than your finals coming up or graduation. Maybe it’s the drop of demon blood fed to you, like it’s pulling you towards this life and everything that comes with it.

That is not a comforting thought.

Demon blood.

In your veins?

What does this make you? Who does it make you?

You force the thoughts away, focusing on the fact that you can save someone’s life tonight, that it can prove that you aren’t what you fear you may be or may become. If this ability is going to be forced onto you then the least you can do is try and save someone in the process.

Dean parks the Impala far away enough to not be seen and to only be able to see the house with a set of binoculars. The plan was to wait until around 6:30 and then wait outside to see if they could find the demon and stop it before it even made it inside.

Sam goes over basics for this specific situation with you, telling you to stay with him and to keep the flask of holy water on you at all times. He assures that he and Dean have a handle on this and that you shouldn’t stray.

When the time comes, your nerves are at an all time high. You don’t really know what to expect, but when a hooded man makes his way towards the house you’re all watching, you know you just have to work with what knowledge has been given to you.

“Let’s go, stay close,” Dean says to both you and Sam and you nod in response. Dean leads the way as Sam guides you in front of himself by the small of your back. The touch is gentle and almost loving.

“Remember what I told you and you’ll be fine,” Sam whispered in your ear, making you shiver as his breath tickled your neck. His hand on your lower back gripped ever so slightly as if he were affected by the domestic touch as well.

As they got closer, Dean attacked the demon, spraying it with holy water. Sam carefully shoved you behind him, the placement of his hands feeling as if they were supposed to be there all along. The demon screamed at the pain but once the holy water fizzled down, he started cackling.

“What’s so funny?” Dean grunts but the demon only continues to laugh. “Who sent you!” Dean slams the demon into the brick siding of the house. “You killed that professor, didn’t you?”

The demon continued to laugh before unhinging its jaw and letting a thick black cloud of smoke roll out past its lips. “Dammit!” Dean growled, dropping the unmoving body to the ground. You watched as his jaw remained open and his eyes wide in dull fear. He was dead. The host was dead. You didn’t save him.

Sam turned to face you, standing to block your line of vision on the body just a few feet away.

“It’s okay, don’t look at him,” Sam tried to soothe but you felt distraught.

“He’s dead,” you breathe out, looking past Sam to see the body again but Sam places his hand on your jaw to firmly hold your face back.

“He’s been dead for a while,” Sam explains, “that’s what happens with possession. He hasn’t been himself for long enough, it’s better this way.”

You couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to lose your own body to a demon like that. You suppose Sam is right.

There’s a loud shatter nearby that startled all of you. Dean is the first to head to the side door, quickly kicking it in and heading to where he hears the crystals of glass coming from. Sam takes your hand and leads you with him, staying close to Dean but keeping you closer.

Once you all make it inside and to the kitchen, the sight is like the one you saw last night. There was a pile of shattered glass on the floor and the smell of something tomato-ey cooking. Except this time, the victim's eyes are black and he’s the one holding a large shard in his bloody hand. He starts to cackle and the sound makes you connect that this was the demon from outside.

Sam starts to chant something you can’t really make out but the impact it has on the demon is surprising. The moment the first words leave Sam's lips, the laughter stops and a scowl replaces the demon’s temporary face. It starts to jerk as if it were taking hits but it manages to lift the shard and stab it deep into its abdomen.

You gasp in shock, watching as the blood stains the shirt of this poor man who, by all you know, had absolutely nothing to do with this whole mess.

Sam’s words speed up and as he finishes, the demon expels from the man’s mouth and singes into the hardwood beneath him, burning away for good this time.

Dean is the first to run after the man as he stumbles, he’s still present and his eyes are panicked.

“Wh-who are you! Why did I do th-that?” He stutters with an underlying groan. Sam whips out his phone to call 911 and you just feel frozen- useless.

You feel like you failed.

———

After the man was rushed to the hospital, Dean dropped off you and Sam while he went out for dinner. You felt like a complete failure and Sam could tell how much you were kicking yourself for this.

“Hey,” Sam coos, sitting next to you on the lumpy couch in his and Dean’s motel room. “He’ll be okay, EMT’s said they arrived just in time. Mark is going to make a full recovery,” he adds emphasis on the name, hoping to show you even further that you actually saved someone.

“I didn’t do anything, I just stood there.”

“You helped us find him and that saved his life.” Sam insists, reaching out to hold your hand. “This stuff doesn’t come with instructions, you just have to learn to do the best with what you have given to you. And that’s exactly what you did tonight, you did everything you could and it saved a man’s life,” Sam searches your eyes, hoping you’re listening and actually believing his words.

You sigh and rest your head in your free hand, “I don’t know how I’m just supposed to go back to school. It feels so unimportant in the midst of all of this,” you nibble at your cheek again. Sam's eyes float the movement under your cheek and he smiles warmly, adoring the small habit of yours.

He lets your words sink in though, the idea of you dropping school so close to graduation. He doesn’t wish this path on anyone else, but he sees so much of himself in you that it’s a little scary.

“I just feel like I have this- this evil running in my blood, that my body isn’t my own, that I’m not who I’m supposed to be,” you pull up your head to lean it into the headrest of the couch, turing to look at him again and he rests his head next to yours as well, looking right into your eyes. He's a lot closer than he was before. “Like…”

“…Who you’re supposed to be is someone you won’t want to be,” Sam finishes in your trailed thought in a whisper, and it clicks like the last puzzle piece in your unspoken thoughts.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, your eyes stinging with fearful tears. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be,” you shake your head. There’s something about Sam’s eyes that holds you captive. That allows all of these fears and uncertainties to just fall out of your mouth and into his hands for him to collect for safe keeping.

“Only you can decide that,” Sam says, as if it's that simple. “You can go to school and live a normal life and ignore this world,” he urges, hoping that you’ll do what’s better for you, that you’ll just be selfish.

“I can’t do that, I can’t just pretend that my visions don’t mean something. I can’t let people die,” your voice cracks, but your tone proves that these are the most solid words to escape your lips in the past two days.

Sam reached his hand up to cup your jaw again, loving the feeling of your warm skin in his hold. It felt so natural and so right. His eyes search your face for any hint that he could talk you out of throwing your life away for the greater good. He wishes that this weight wasn’t on your shoulders, that you could just drop it and run far away.

He knows what this life does to people, he’s experienced it first and second hand, but he also knows the gratification and pride that comes with a life like this- the reward. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe it was meant to pan out like this.

His thumb caresses your chin, feathering past your lip ever so slightly that it earns a soft intake of air from you.

The tension between you and Sam had become undeniable, it was odd how quickly you had trusted him and how natural it was to be around him- to touch him.

“Come with us,” Sam speaks, his eyes dipping to your lips for a moment, “if you’re insistent on using your abilities to help, then come with us. At least until you learn enough to handle yourself. You’ll be safer,” he caressed your chin again, this time allowing his thumb to brush past the better half of your lip.

This was crazy.

This is crazy.

But goddamn if it didn’t feel right.

Your whole life you felt out of place, forcing yourself to stick to what’s safe and what you know. Sticking yourself in bubbles and boxes of those around you, mimicking what seemed the best for you and your future- but what you felt right now? The contentment in the unknown of the future? The certainty of this moment alone was enough to convince you that maybe you’ve been living your life wrong this whole time, maybe your calling was more than college and parties and marriage and careers.

Maybe your purpose is with these two hunters, saving people and using your forced abilities for the betterment of others.

Maybe your old life was never meant for you.

Maybe this was what’s you were made for.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[ffwriting]

Aot Characters - Nicknames

What nicknames the Aot Characters would have for you!

Also, enjoy the new banners. I like using them more than I thought I would :)

cw: canon verse, slightly ooc, Implied female reader in half of Eren's and Jean's, but the rest are gn readers, no y/n, some cringey nicknames with good reason, Fluff <3!

wc: 1.7k

Characters: Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe

Eren Yeager - Sweets, My girl

Eren is the type of person to see a couple while out as a kid and overhear them calling each other pet names, and one of them that he heard once was Sweets. He found it cringy at first, but after hearing it a couple more times, he came to like it. a lot. So naturally after finding a partner, or even once he realizes he has a crush on you, he just starts to call you it. He didn't even realize it at first, but when you gave a questioning look his way when he first said it, he explained why he did. Safe to say that even if you didn't like the nickname, you sure as heck like the story behind it and the man calling you it.

Another name Eren would give you would be my girl. He wouldn't say it in a possessive way though, he would just say it as if he was infatuated. If he was able to get you to be his partner, then maybe this life could be a little better, so he was just so happy that you two were actually dating. He would take every chance to remember it too, so he just started calling you his girl. Most of the time you wouldn't even be the one he would be talking you and he would still call you it. "Yeah, did you see how my girl did in training today? It was so cool."

(I just realized that I used the word 'would' 3x in one sentence, but I'm too tired to fix it now)

Mikasa Ackerman - Middle/last name

I do not think that Mikasa would be much for nicknames, it just doesn't seem like her. She would end up just trying to find something she could call you because she probably overthought about how you would want her to give you a cute nickname, and got a little insecure about it. However, she one day overheard someone talking about how they like to go by their middle name, and she got an idea. She decided that she would call you a shortened version of your middle name. But she decided to make some versions of your last name too because she overthought on how you might not like the ones she came up with for your middle name, so she decided she should just be safe. She has so many thoughts and she just can't seem to express them through words.

Armin Arlert - N/n, angel

Okay, Armin is definitely the type of person who is too embarrassed to call you any of the classic pet names, but he does often like to call you by a nickname he thought of one day. He figured that it was the safest option, it showed that he wanted to call you that stuff, but wasn't too much that he would cringe at himself.

Another thing he calls you is an angel. 100%. No doubt in my mind. Especially if you are kind. He would just be listening to you talk and when you would ask for advice on the situation that he was totally not listening to. He would reluctantly say something like, "I'm sorry you are like an angel, could you please repeat that?"

Technically he doesn't really call you it, he just compares you to one so often to the point where he just catches himself calling you angel in normal conversations. It would just become one of the many ways that he showed his affection for you.

Jean Kirstein - Doll, Woman

Doll is a name that Jean would only refer to you as when you two are alone. Whether you two were out training alone together after the rest went to lunch, or chatting when you both could in the Scouts, he would call you it. I don't think he means it in the current way the pet name is romanticized (currently most fics refer to the pet name as something associated with sexual acts, or mean/rude characters ex: Toji from jjk). I think he would mean it in more of a gentle way, like you are so precious to him like some people's dolls. Despite the faux tough guy act, deep down, sometimes deeper than he would like, he cherishes the people closest to him, friends, family, and you. He cherishes you all, and Doll is the easiest way he can tell you that without saying it.

Jean is the type to act entitled and call you 'woman' to seem like he is this big macho type of man. However, in his mind he just likes calling you it because you often become sassy with him. (Also it gives him a small ego boost that he is the only one who could call you that because to him you were his Woman)

Connie Springer - Your Name, joking pet names

Connie, oh Connie. This guy normally just calls you your name like a normal person. He likes your name, that is all he can really say about it.

HOWEVER, this man sometimes feels like being such an annoyance, lovingly of course. If he felt like it, he would randomly start calling you the cringiest pet names possible. Like I'm not talking sweetie or sugar, I'm talking shit like lovebug and cutie patootie. And he would have no shame in doing this either because he knows that you will break from embarrassment first.

Sometimes you would try to get him back by calling him things like sugarlips and baby boy, but it would fail most of the time because you would just end up cringing at yourself. This would often make you wonder what it would take to make the infamous Connie Springer cringe in embarrassment.

Levi Ackerman - Brat, Your Name + Bonus

The first nickname that I think Levi would call you would be brat, classic, I know. He would just call you this out of annoyance, or sometimes if you were doing something a little too reckless. It was just second nature for him to call you a brat, and even after you two got closer, he just kept calling you that. In all honesty though, sometimes he calls you that, and not in an endearing way. It would probably happen when you have a little too much energy for whatever reason, and he just called you that because you were be annoying to him at that point in time. Most of the time though it is meant in a nonserious manner.

Levi loves to call you by your name, he does not show it that much on his face, but he absolutely loves it. It is slightly weird to get called by your full first name by Levi, and the first time definitely startled you. However, you soon got used to it. Levi, on the other hand, somehow got happier every single time he called your name. He didn't know how just saying your name could make him feel that uncomfortable feeling of happiness, but it did. He would say it any chance he could, without making any feeling he had obvious. Soon he was addicted to it like it was a drug to him. He was not a big fan of it. He loved, and hated, how it made him feel.

Bonus (platonic nickname): Kid

Levi would call you kid even if you were just a month older than him. Why you may ask? Because he found it funny to annoy you, and that nickname definitely would. You had been in the Scouts longer than him, you were taller than him, and you had almost the same amount of respect from Erwin, so why was he calling you kid? It irked you so you ended up calling him kid as well.

When you first did this, you were met with a questioning look, and you defended yourself, "You call me a kid all the time, but I'm not the one that is built like one." This may or may not have earned you extra cleaning duties for the day, but the next time you did it he just gave you an annoyed look. Soon enough, you both tried to come up with simple names to call each other to try to piss the other off. Sometimes you could swear you could see a small smile on his face after you both went back and forth with nicknames.

If you ended up dying, he would never call anyone else kid though. He would be too scared of making the same connection of love, and having them die again, again.

Hange Zoe - My love, Darling

Hange 100% will call you 'my love.' Their reasoning? You are. They would even call you this before you two started getting close because Hange already knew they had a crush on you.

'My love' will be used to refer to you more than your actual name. Hange would even refer to you as that to the other Scouts. Like they would be reporting results to Erwin, and just casually say, "Yes, and my love even recommended the idea that….." This would leave Erwin very confused the first time around until after the meeting he asked an annoyed Levi who the 'my love,' Hange was referring to was. When he learned that it was you, it all just clicked for him, and he didn't even blink an eye when you were called by that name the next time he heard it. And he heard it a lot. Hange just loved calling you 'my love.'

Another thing that Hange loves to call you is Darling (Ex: that one scene where a titan almost bit them and they say, "You almost got me there, Darling"). Hear me out.

Hange would call you this anytime you got even slightly snippy, brash, or fed up with something. It would just come out of their mouth like second nature when seeing you upset. You would have said something a little harsher than you meant to, but you were getting really annoyed with someone in the Scouts, so you were put on edge. When you went to say something to apologize for being rude, Hange cut you off with, "You alright, Darling?" with a perfect mix of concern and playfulness in their voice. That line made you entirely forget about being annoyed and made everything in the shitty world feel even just a little bit better. You would just respond with a quick shake of your head, give them a hug, and feel a little happier for the rest of the day because how could you have a bad day with Hange in your life?

Okay random ramble from me-

Okay so I hop from fandom to fandom a lot, right

Recently, the past two years, I have noticed that in every single fandom there are patterns. Like characters will have the same personality trait, and if you are not careful you might confuse a fanfic for being for one character, but it really is for another character in an entirely different series.

You will have the classic main character personality that is either overly sexualized for their own good, or not taken seriously at all, or both. Ex: Izuku in mha, Ittadori in jjk, Tanjiro in demon slayer, Naruto in naruto

Then, you will have the stoic side characters who have more fanfiction than most other characters. Ex: Shoto Todoroki and Aizawa in mha, Choso and Megumi in jjk, Mikasa and Levi in aot

Also, there is the type of character that made me realize this trend, the 'dumb' side characters that are mostly used to make the watcher laugh. Ex: Connie in aot, Denki and Sero in mha, Nishinoya and Tanaka in Haikyuu, Zenitzu and Inoske in Demon Slayer, and maybe some others that I am missing.

Please tell me that I am not alone in noticing this. Like please tell me this is a normal experience and that I am just going through this realization embarrassingly late in my fanfiction life.

Also, I feel like I only noticed this when I was fandom hoping recently and it just clicked in my head that Smau writers tend to write Nishinoya and Denki similarly. Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk. Enjoy this small writing while I start to, hopefully, work on some angst works so I can lure in the other half of the aot fandom bc a lot of you love yourselves some good angst. Like the show wasn't angsty enough already

[fictioninmyblood]

Back to Bed Pt. 2

Summary: Terry and Y/N had been married for just over 7 years with 3 beautiful children and a blooming self defense business they’d built together to show for it. Having started their relationship at the beginning of Y/N’s journey into discovering her submissiveness and Terry’s first stationing as an instructor - Terry had been her only dom and thus knew her like the back of his hand and Y/N has been the only sub to experience the harshest version of his dom giving her the same privilege over him. Having been pregnant with their baby girl upon coming home to the Sandy Springs situation, Terry has been using it as an excuse, too afraid to lean all the way into his dom personality the way he had with Y/N before his last tour.

After they get into an argument, again, about the events of Silver Springs and how even after the last few years of stitching their life back together, he still only talked to Summer about everything that happened and was handling her with kid gloves, Y/N separates from him best she can. Completely at a crossroads of what to do to feel like she’s still her husband’s wife and losing all the fight to try and figure it out, she gives Terry the silent treatment and isolates from him, doing her best to only be in the same room with him when the kids are. After weeks of her barely acknowledging him or the argument, Terry is tired of going to bed alone when his wife is sleeping in the guest room right below him. His plan? Let the dom in him handle it and finally confess his monsters.

WARNINGS: 18+ themes, Minors DNI, d/s themes, smut, angst

A/N: I almost forgot to tag folks, literally stayed up all night finishing this part. Charge it to my head not my heart.

Tags: @kirayuki22 @blyffe @scorpiosaintt @kaylaahisthebestest- @captainwithoutmakingitlove @nayaesworld

A/N: Thank you to all the Terry girls out there that have created a monster in me for this man in literally less than a week. Story inspired by @megamindsecretlair ‘s “I Swear I’ll Never Leave” oneshot and @keyaho ‘s “R.E.L.L.S.” series.

A/N: There will be at least one more part. Kinda proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Just as he had finished the thought staring down at her with his arms folded and his mind racing with all the ways he could have this night go, she delivered exactly the push that would make him give them what they both needed, obviously.

“Just because I’m down here giving you all sorts of ideas, doesn’t mean I’m going to comply just like that.”

He raised a lone eyebrow and responded, “Is that so kitten?”

Y/N nodded her head, causing Terry to tighten his hands around his folded forearms. It was something small, but now that they understood each other and were officially in the scene he knew that she knew what that answer meant. He held his hand up to his ear and said, “come again kitten?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes that is so.”

“You testing me mama?” Terry asked while holding her chin to keep their gazes locked.

Y/N shrugged and struggled to keep her smirk entirely off her face as she moved her face right out of his grasp, seeing the exact reaction she’d been hoping for flash behind his eyes.

Terry grabbed her hair by the base of her neck and yanked harshly, leaning into her face as close as possible while he practically snarled out, “You will use your words.”

Y/N smiled blatantly now, what could be considered a demented smile, raising an eyebrow as if to mock his signature move with her, and replied, “Or what?”

“Or what?” Terry repeated confused and baffled by the audacity his kitten was showing. He’d already told her how close to snapping he’d been, warned her of the dangers of interacting with him in this state, and she still chose to provoke him. His mind couldn’t wrap his head around the minx that was kneeled before him, it seemed he wasn’t the only one hiding a different beast. She was usually always so compliant, even when being bratty it was easy to get her to fold to his commands, but not now. “Or what?” he repeated again, more so as a statement as he loosed the grip he had on her hair to rub the base of her skull.

The second he watched those beautiful eyes close accompanied by the sound of the barest of moans, he slapped her face 3 times in a row, open palmed like before. When her eyes and mouth popped open, his finger fucked her throat with 3 of his fingers until she was a slobbery mess. He’d pressed down on her tongue, effectively gagging her, leaned in close to her face and licked from her top lip back to her ear to grasp it between his teeth.

“You bout to find out and I don’t want no sounds out of you except ones of pleasure, mine and yours.”

Y/N smiled at him when he pulled away to look at her again but it quickly dissipated when his became sinister. “I’m bout to fuck you so good you beg me to stop and I’m going to keep,” he slapped her face one, “goin,” a second slap made her cream her panties, soaking through to the sleep shorts covering them. 

He didn’t have to see it to know it because he knew her expressions, had learned them thoroughly over the years enough to know her involuntary orgasm face. It was his favorite afterall. Terry let his wet fingers slip out of her mouth and immediately put his dick in while it was stil hanging open. Despite having plans to tie her down and fuck her sensely in their bedroom, something about this moment made him desperate to have this.

As soon as Y/N lifted her hands to hold onto his hips he popped the side of her face. “You already know what time it is mama, stop testing me.”

It really wasn’t fair how he was holding a one-sided conversation with her knowing damn well that she couldn’t respond, only react. He was using everything he knew about Y/N against her and this was the one arena that she welcomed his attention to detail. Her pussy couldn’t stop clenching around nothing since he let out that ‘fuck’ earlier.

Only thing Terry was focused on was his nut and her compliance. Despite clenching her fists at her sides for a bit with no problem she had the audacity to reach for his pussy. HIS pussy!

He pulled himself from the depths of her throat and pulled her to stand by the grasp he suddenly had on it so fast that Y/N officially couldn’t think anymore. Even the following slap barely registered as her fight or flight responses pulled her psyche in separate directions. One part of her trying to witness the moment from outside her body while the other wanted to lean into all the sensations he was making her feel.

“You acting up a little too much for my liking kitten, let’s fix that huh?”

Terry grasped her arm and turned her over his knee, using his foot to sweep her off of hers as he sat,  in such a swift motion that she couldn't have counteracted it if she tried. Gathering the second arm into the same hand that had the other at the base of her spine he got right to work. He’d gotten to his 6th blow before her body tensed up from finally feeling them all at once. Terry was not being gentle and she knew in this moment that he was definitely going to mark her every way he can, starting with the bruises that were sure to start appearing on her ass in a few hours. He let her ride out the sensations for a few moments, rubbing her butt with all the love and care he had for her before he was back to quick pops. By the time he stopped the 3rd time, he’d reached 25 and she was on the precipice of an orgasm if her moans were any indication, but he didn’t want that just yet.

“Why you actin’ up so much, huh?”

Y/N was on a high that just kept going up with every second under his hands. She had never experienced her subspace like this before and she was greedy for more. There was a small part of her that asked what if she pushed too far, but it wasn’t loud enough to stop her from looking back at him with fresh tears in her eyes from her most recent punishment, opening her mouth to say, “maybe you just don’t how to punish me.”

If she thought he looked menacing before, that was nothing compare to the monster that appeared as he rained 5 more slaps that were far slower and far heavier on her ass cheeks. She wanted to keep looking him in the eyes, happy to see this hidden side of him, but she had no control over her body as she came again, eyes and head rolling, muscles tightening. She could swear he’d shown her the universe with the way the darkness behind her eyes lit up.

[dyaz-stories]

Cuddling — Day two of Inukag Fluff Week

Second one shot for @inukagfluffweek! This one is set in canon, and probably a little more on the hurt/comfort side.

Keeping an eye on Kagome was second nature for Inuyasha. After all, if there wasn’t food on her plate, she’d grow hungry and Jewel shards hunting would be interrupted. If there wasn’t a fire to keep her warm, she’d be too tired to go on. If they were caught in a downpour without shelter, she’d get sick. If she kept going when her legs hurt, the next day would be hell. So he got her food, he built the fire, he found the shelter, he carried her on his back. Not ‘cause he cared, though, well, he did care, a little bit, the normal amount, whatever that was, but for purely practical reasons.

That meant he figured out early on that something was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint what for the life of him, though.

He’d added wood to the fire. He’d caught and cooked a rabbit. He’d carried her on his back half the day, holding her two-wheeled thing in one hand. He’d even offered his services in ridding some farmer of pesky yokai, so they’d get to sleep in a barn for once. Sure, he wasn’t Miroku, and he couldn’t secure them a place in some luxury house, but he was trying his best, ‘kay? Miroku wasn’t around anyway, and Kagome had never complained about luxuries before.

And still, when everything should have been fine, something was clearly wrong. Kagome kept looking in the distance, eyes turning glassy, mouth curving downward as she buried herself in her thought, keeping him so, so far away from her even if she was sitting right next to him.

 Inuyasha had no damn clue how to fix it.

“What is it this time?” he snapped at last as she was finishing her food in silence, taking small, slow bites, and she jumped at the sound of his voice. Her wide brown eyes focused on him at last, and that simple action was grounding enough for him that he would almost have felt sorry for his outburst.

Almost.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and the immediate frown on her face told him she was not to be messed with right now — too bad he didn’t care, at this point.

“What’s wrong with you, you mean,” he scoffed, folding his arms and shaking his head. “You’ve been sulking for days. So tell me how to fix it, or just stop doing that already!”

If he’d been self-aware enough for that, he would no doubt have realized how childish he sounded. Kagome could have, too, but instead, her face flushed.

“I’m fine!” she replied, her voice too high-pitched to be convincing. “It’s not your problem anyway, so just forget about it!”

“How is it not my problem when you’re all—” He gestured at her, frustrated. “—and it’s a pain to travel!”

“Well if it’s a pain to travel with me, why don’t you just go with someone else?” she replied, raising her voice a little more.

“Because I don’t want to travel with someone else!” he yelled back. “I just want you to tell me how to not make it hard for you!”

She went quiet then, uncharacteristically so, red spreading to her ears, and Inuyasha growled under his breath, muttering to himself. He wasn’t sure what to do with this quiet Kagome. If she needed to scream at him to feel better, well, she could get on with that, and at least then she’d be fixed or whatever, but even picking a fight wasn’t working, damn it.

“I’m sorry,” Kagome whispered at last, and Inuyasha started like he’d been stung by a bee. Uh, yeah, not good. She didn’t do that. Even when she was in the wrong, she needed her time and space to calm down, and then she’d apologize, often while bringing him an offering of ramen. She never turned down a fight with an immediate apology.

That was when the tears came.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, sniffing.

“Wh— No— Don’t—” he pleaded, voice cracking, but she paid him no attention.

“I just— It’s been a very long year, you know? And I— I— I miss my mom,” she finally broke, waterfalls on her cheeks, quiet sobs wracking her body as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

Inuyasha froze. He reached out for her without thinking, overwhelmed by the need to make it stop, make it better, make her better, make it so she’d never ever cry again, but his fingers curled up before he could touch her, caught by some other part of his instinct.

“W-why didn’t you just say so! You can just— you can just go home then!” he scoffed, trying very hard to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice.

“But we’ve been on the road for days,” Kagome sniffed, “and it would take days to go back, and we haven’t found that stupid Jewel shard, and I just want her to give me a hug, and—”

“Ha, well I-I can do that too! You could have asked me!”

That made Kagome stop crying for long enough to give him a blank stare.

“Come on, Inuyasha. I’m not going to force you to hug me.”

“W-who said anything about forcing me!”

“Well you don’t look thrilled about it,” she said, doubtful, and at least she was crying a lot less now, but her eyes and nose were still read and he wasn’t going to let that slide, was he?

“J-just— just don’t move, okay?”

Clumsily, despite how careful he was being, he put both arms around her, awkwardly tugging her until he’d brought her against his chest. He was barely touching her, his arms forming a misshaped circle hovering around her. He’d hugged her before, but it had been an impulsive action, not one he’d thought about. He— had no idea how to do it intentionally.

Against his chest, Kagome giggled.

“You have to actually hug me, you know? Like that.”

She did it without hesitation, wrapping her arms around him. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his, and this time when he froze, there were very different emotions running within him. On the top of his head, his ears were twitching, all his senses alert, taking in her breathing that was getting more even, her smell, her breath against his skin. Swallowing, he finally brought himself to close his arms around her, and she sighed contentedly.

“See?” she asked. “That’s nice, isn’t it?”

He could barely reply around the knot in his throat. She felt so soft against him, so delicate. His half-demon strength would make it so, so easy to break her in half — and she knew that. Her warmth was spreading through him, from his chest and face to the root of his hair and the tip of his toes. Everything he felt was Kagome. With great care, he ran his fingers through her hair, not wanting his claws to cut through them by accident. She shivered, tilted her head forward a little to give him better access. Mesmerized, he kept going. Her hair felt soft between his fingers, silky.

Everything about this was calming. And she’d been right. It was nice.

It caught him by surprise when she moved, entangling herself from him.

“Thanks, Inuyasha,” she said, sniffing again. “I’m feeling better. It was nice of you to— Oh!”

He pulled her back into him, this time with a tighter grip.

“You said you needed a hug, so I’m giving you one that’ll last you until I can get you back to your time,” he said gruffly. “Now just sleep, ‘kay?”

Her laugh vibrated through his chest, and he found it to be the best thing he’d ever felt.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks, Inuyasha.”

He would have told her that he was just doing it so she’d be in the mood for shard hunting the next day, but if she’d called him out, he would never have been able to lie with a straight face, so he chose not to.

‘cause truth be told, now that he was experiencing it, he thought he’d needed that hug at least as much as her.

Don't have ideas for the upcoming themes so this will probably be my last entry for the week! Thank you all for the love on yesterday's entry, hope you've enjoyed this one as well, and I'll see you when I see you!

[haveihitanerve]

"He didn't kill joker!" Jason threw in his face. "B never avenged me! he never loved me! He. Didn't. Kill. Joker." Dick was quiet for so long Jason thought maybe he'd actually succeeded in shutting him, when he spoke, voice quieter than it had ever been. "He almost did."

The words took a second to register. "bullshit!" Jason spat when he had finally regained his tongue. Dick remained cool, staring out of the window. "He almost did." He repeated, as if those words weren't currently rattling around in Jason's brain. "When- when Joker killed you." Dick cut off, staring at the floor. "He went crazy." he whispered. "I- i was visiting because I knew it had- destroyed him. But I didn't realize how bad it was until-" Dick bit his lip. "until I got the call. It was Alfred. He was-" Dick took a shuddering breath and Jason braced himself. "He was stuttering and shaking and ordered me to get to Bruce's tracker immediately and I-" Dick shook his head. Jason had to admire his older brother for speaking so clearly. If he was reliving a moment in his life when he had witnessed Alfred, fucking Alfred, shake and stumble over his words, he would have been much less composed. "I didn't question it. I didn't even put on my suit. I just sprinted to where Bruce was. I thought-" Dick reached up a hand to his eyes and Jason realized with a jolt that he was crying. "I thought he had killed himself." Dick whispered. "i thought he had finally grown tired of it- of living without you, of fighting with me, of not being able to hold a child in his arms anymore without blood being involved." He shook his head, still staring at the floor.

"And I hated him. I hated him for leaving me, for leaving Alfred, for not having the backbone to stay and figure things out and heal- to not stay and try with me anymore. I hated- I hated that he had given up." Dick's hands were trembling, and he curled them into fists to hide it. "I hated that after everything we had gone through together, after all the life you and I had brought into his life, after all the times he had grilled it into me to just get back up- that he had just given up. Given up on life and- given up on me." The words grew so quiet Jason had to strain to hear them. And then he wished he hadn't. Dick shook himself, getting back on track. "So anyway, I raced over and... he wasn't dead. But he was just- sitting there. His legs over the edge of the building and I- I didn't understand why Alfred had sounded so scared. Why he had begged me to run." Jason had the horrible realization that he didn't want to know how this story ended. But he let Dick continue. "Until I got closer." Jason tried not to vomit. "He was- drenched in blood. It was as though he had been in a dunk tank over blood instead of water. And Joker had been the ball." Jason pressed a fist to his mouth. Dick still wasn't looking at him. "I-I didn't know what to do. So I just- sat down. Leaned against him." Dick took a shuddering breath and Jason placed his feet wide, bracing himself. "And then he started to talk." Dick whispered, a tremor in his voice. "He told me about what he'd done, and he spared no detail." Jason couldn't breathe. Something like anger, but worse, was choking his throat. "And when it was all over- when he had told me the last of the description, he turned and looked me dead in the eyes and told me, "he killed my son. if he, or anyone else, ever touches one of my children again- I will do far worse than what I did to him."" Jason sprinted to the bathroom and painted the toilet with his insides. When he returned, pale and shaky, Dick was still standing where he had been. Calm, cool, collected. "He almost did." Dick repeated once more, still not looking at Jason. Finally, he turned, making eye contact. "But you have to understand, for Dad? Killing him is too small of a punishment."

[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— i got wasted like all my potential ; after your repeated mistakes, struggles with the lab work, and lack of progress, tsukishima scolds you harshly till you’re breaking down in front of him

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

[ masterlist ] | #daleelahwritings🐭

The air in the lab was always thick with the scent of chemicals, the hum of equipment, and the nervous energy of students trying to avoid mistakes. Each week, the practicum grew more complex. What started as simple measurements and basic reactions quickly escalated into multi-step processes that demanded precision and a deep understanding of biochemistry—both of which you struggled with.

Today’s experiment involved a protein extraction procedure. The lab instructions were dense with scientific jargon that made your head spin. You reread the steps multiple times, trying to make sense of them, but it was like trying to decipher a foreign language. Around you, your classmates were already setting up their stations with practiced ease, moving in groups they had long since formed. You couldn’t help but notice how seamlessly they worked together, exchanging tips and helping each other out.

You glanced over at Tsukishima, who was busy assisting another group with the accuracy of their results. He looked so calm and collected, his tall figure standing out as he leaned over to explain something with a level of patience that was hard to reconcile with the way he always seemed to snap at you.

Determined not to mess up again, you carefully measured out the reagents, trying to remember everything Tsukishima had scolded you about last time. But as you transferred the solution into the centrifuge, your hand slipped, and the liquid spilled across the countertop. Panic surged through you as you frantically tried to clean up the mess, knowing that this mistake would not go unnoticed.

And it didn’t.

Tsukishima’s shadow fell over your station, and you froze, your heart pounding. He let out a long sigh, his frustration palpable. “Are you even trying to read the instructions?” His voice was low but edged with irritation. “I showed you this step just last week. How could you mess it up again?”

You bit your lip, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. The entire class seemed to have paused, all too familiar with the routine by now—another day, another scolding. It felt like everyone was waiting for you to break under the pressure, to finally admit that you didn’t belong here.

But Tsukishima, as harsh as he was, didn’t walk away. Instead, he grabbed another set of reagents and started the process from scratch. “Pay attention this time,” he muttered, demonstrating the steps once more. He moved with the precision and confidence of someone who had done this countless times before. “You need to stop being so careless. This isn’t something you can just half-ass.”

His words stung, but you nodded, forcing yourself to focus on what he was doing. He had a way of making you feel like a complete idiot, yet there was something in the way he didn’t just abandon you that kept you from giving up entirely.

As he handed the equipment back to you, his gaze softened slightly. “If you keep making the same mistakes, you’ll never get this. You need to practice more, or you’re going to fail.”

“I’m trying,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I really am.”

“Try harder,” he snapped, but his tone lacked the usual bite. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely angry or just tired of seeing you struggle. He watched as you completed the step under his supervision, nodding slightly when you finally managed to do it correctly.

Over the next few weeks, the pattern continued. Each lab session brought a new challenge, and with it, more opportunities to mess up. Whether it was miscalculating concentrations, mixing up solutions, or just getting lost in the labyrinth of complex procedures, it seemed like you were always on the verge of disaster. And Tsukishima, true to form, was always there to call you out on it.

“Did you even check the pH before adding that buffer?” he asked one afternoon, his eyes narrowing as he looked over your notes. “This is basic stuff. You should know better by now.”

You hung your head, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks. It wasn’t just his words; it was the weight of knowing that you were disappointing him again and again.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, not for the first time.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Being sorry isn’t going to help you pass this class. Are you just trying to waste my time?”

His question hit you harder than you expected, and you could feel your throat tighten. You had spent so much time just trying to survive each practicum that you hadn’t really stopped to think about why you were doing this in the first place. But instead of answering, you chose to keep silent, hoping that maybe this time, your apology would be enough to placate him.

Tsukishima remained silent, clearly waiting for you to say more, to give him something to work with. He wanted you to argue back, to tell him what you were struggling with so he could actually help. But when all you offered was another weak, “I’m sorry,” you could see the disappointment flicker in his eyes.

He hissed with tiredness and frustration. “Well then, you’ve got your goal so perfectly. Congratulations on making me waste my time on you.” His tone was bitter, laced with a sharp edge that cut deeper than any of his previous scoldings. “If you’re just going to keep saying ‘sorry’ and not actually try to improve, then maybe you should rethink why you’re even here.”

After his scolding, Tsukishima turned away from you, leaving you to struggle on your own. The weight of his words pressed down on you, making it difficult to focus, but you forced yourself to push through. Determined not to be the failure he saw you as, you stayed long after the other students had left, methodically redoing each experiment that you had messed up earlier.

The lab was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the faint hum of the equipment and your own breath. It took hours, but eventually, you managed to complete the tasks, albeit with trembling hands and an exhausted mind.

You silently placed your lab report on Tsukishima's desk, hoping this ordeal would be over. As you turned away to return to your station and pack up, you heard him flip through the pages. His silence was unnerving, and just as you were about to make your escape, his voice, laced with irritation, stopped you in your tracks.

“Is this your idea of fixing things?” His tone was biting, and you flinched, slowly turning back to face him.

He was staring at the report with a look of deep dissatisfaction. “You’ve been here for hours, and this is the best you can do?”

You felt your heart sink. “I—I tried to—”

“Try harder!” he snapped, his frustration boiling over. He stood up, towering over you, the full weight of his height and anger making you feel small and insignificant. “Do you even care about this? Because right now, it seems like you’re wasting both your time and mine.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears, but his harsh words felt like daggers. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop saying you’re sorry!” he cut you off sharply. “I don’t want apologies. I want results! Do you even understand how much effort it takes to fix your mistakes? And yet, you keep making the same ones over and over. It’s like you’re not even trying to improve.”

The tears you’d been holding back started to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You wanted to defend yourself, to explain that you were doing your best, but the words got stuck in your throat. All you could manage was a pathetic, “I’m trying…”

“Trying?” Tsukishima scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “If this is your idea of trying, then you’re hopeless. At this rate, you’re going to fail this class, and I’ll be the one who has to watch you flounder around, wasting everyone’s time.”

His words were like a punch to the gut. The tears you’d been fighting so hard to hold back finally spilled over, and you quickly looked down, not wanting him to see.

But it was too late. Tsukishima noticed, and for a moment, his expression flickered with something other than anger—maybe regret, or concern—but it was quickly masked by his frustration. “Crying isn’t going to help either,” he muttered, though his voice had lost some of its edge.

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, trying to steady your breathing. You wanted to disappear, to run away from his harsh gaze and never come back. But you were stuck, rooted to the spot by your own shame and helplessness.

He sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then, in a quieter tone, he added, “Why are you even here if this isn’t what you want to do? If you’re just going to half-ass everything and cry whenever things get tough, then maybe you should think about whether this is the right path for you.”

That was the final straw. The weight of everything—your struggles, his harsh words, the pressure from your parents—came crashing down on you all at once. A sob broke free, and before you knew it, you were crying in earnest, the kind of crying that came from deep within, raw and uncontrollable.

Tsukishima looked alarmed, clearly not expecting this reaction. For a moment, he stood frozen, unsure of what to do. But then, awkwardly, he stepped closer to you, hesitating before finally placing a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, stop that,” he said, his voice much softer now, almost gentle. “I didn’t mean to… damn it.”

You couldn’t stop crying, no matter how much you tried to pull yourself together. The stress, the fear, the overwhelming sense of failure—it all came pouring out.

Realizing that his words had done more damage than he intended, Tsukishima, still awkward and hesitant, did the only thing he could think of to comfort you. He pulled you into a hug, his tall frame enveloping you, one hand gently rubbing your back as he murmured a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

You clung to him, the warmth of his embrace and the unexpected softness in his voice finally starting to soothe the raw edges of your emotions. Tsukishima held you, his own heart pounding in his chest, wondering how he’d let things get so out of hand.

As your sobs began to quiet, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you. His usual cold demeanor was gone, replaced by an expression of concern and regret. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh,” he admitted, his voice low. “But you have to understand… I just don’t want to see you fail.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, still shaken but calmed by his unexpected kindness. “I… I’ll try harder,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Tsukishima sighed, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “Just… don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” He paused, looking down at you with something softer in his gaze. “We’ll get through this, together.”

He sighed, letting go of you and running a hand through his hair. “Look, just… try not to take everything so personally. I’m hard on you because I want you to do well. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t bother.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by his honesty. “You… care?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t read too much into it. I just don’t want to see you fail.”

Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel a small spark of hope ignite in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Tsukishima’s grumpy exterior than he let on. And maybe, if you kept trying, you could prove to him—and to yourself—that you were capable of more than just making mistakes.

[mikanotes]

happy birthday xiao i love uuuu here’s a really bad fic i wrote while very tired. sorry i couldn’t make anything better but TT oh well! /late spring ft. xiao x gn!reader warnings: none really? they’re dating except neither of them know idk. some existential talk. possibly ooc xiao i’m so sorry & i think that’s it!

A soft, soft breeze drifts through the curtains of Xiao’s room. There’s the gentle pitter patter of a rain calming down and the scent of nearby Silk Flowers. It’s all so gentle that Xiao feels this might be what mortals describe as feeling like one is floating on a cloud.

He stares at the horizon and heaves a quiet sigh, before letting his gaze dart towards a piece of paper on the desk by the window. Again. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked at it a hundred times since seeing it appear in his room following his daily patrol and fights against monsters.

Surprise was what he first felt, then something he doesn’t know how to name that made his heart tighten painfully, then something else that made it difficult for him to both look at the letter and look away from it all at once. He still feels that ache in his heart when he thinks about it, somehow, but it’s not really painful. It’s not the kind of pain that causes worry. He figures it’s closer to excitement than anxiety. He’s not sure.

In any case, he’s sure whatever he feels is way too much in comparison to the contents of that paper sheet.

“Hi Xiao! It’s me. I’m sure you know, right?

Is it alright if we meet up at Qiaoying Village?

When the moon is highest, maybe? No worries if you can’t come. If you only have a little time, no worries, it won’t be long. See you there, I hope.”

There it is again… He nearly curses under his breath, fingers coming up to tighten at the fabric of his top, right above his heart, twisting again.

He takes a deep breath and easily dispels the feeling, though he begins to worry about the ease with which something so simple makes his chest react so strongly. He looks up at the moon and decides his incessant checking has lasted enough, before taking a step back and disappearing from his room.

Qiaoying Village is like the Harbor in a sense. It’s full of life, full of people, and the exact kind of place Xiao usually avoids. But a village is always easier. It’s arguably much less crowded and the people tend to have unspoken rules about not being too noisy around a certain time of the night. So when it’s this late, and up from a nearby hill, it’s not half as bad as it would usually be.

“You came.”

He shifts his gaze your way and has to pretend he isn’t surprised. He isn’t, but it took him a second too long to notice you. His heart picks up in speed again and he clears his throat quietly.

Shush.

“You called. What is it?” he asks casually, taking a step closer to you. You’re sitting at the edge of the cliff, your bag settled on the grass with some sheets of paper and flowers peeking out. Is that Qingxin? You hum quietly, eyes trained on the horizon, then sigh. You seem to be pondering over how to answer. “Should I give you more time?”

“Give me a break, is what you should.” you retort, scoffing jokingly. He chuckles silently at that and decides to come sit at your side.

“Is this about my day of birth?” he asks, looking ahead as well, “I told you you don’t need to make a big deal out of it. It’s just another day.”

“It is.” you agree, tone sounding somewhat melancholic. Then you turn to look at him, gaze a bit persistent on getting him to do the same. He swallows thickly and glances at you.

“… It is.” he repeats quietly, blinking. “So?”

“You’ve lived really long. When did you stop celebrating your birthday? Did it become meaningless?”

Big talk. He’s not too surprised. There’s no point in not being honest.

“What if I never started?” he asks blankly. It’s not really meant to be rhetorical, either. “I don’t know what’s meaningful about this. It’s not as if I remember the day, either.”

You laugh softly at that. “No one does. That’s not what’s meaningful about it.” you say, gaze moving elsewhere. He doesn’t look away.

“Then?”

There’s a moment of silence, and he hears you hum faintly. It’s a long enough moment to let his mind wander to the clouds again, to that peaceful and heart-ache-inducing place where he thinks about you. He thinks about you the whole day, then thinks about you when you’re right in front of him. It isn’t the first time it happens, but it does feel stronger when it’s his birthday.

Then to him, this day…

“It’s meaningful in different ways for everyone, I think.”

“Really?”

You turn to look at him and frown. “You look elsewhere.”

He waits. He doesn’t know what for. (For his daydream to end. It doesn’t. You’re the dream in front of him. He’s cursed to ‘look elsewhere’ as long as you’re on his mind, he thinks, but there are worse things to be cursed with.) Then he shakes his head a little bit. “I’m here.” he states, “Why is your birthday meaningful?”

You make a face like you’re not buying his previous statement, for some reason, then huff.

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

He’s surprised. He tilts his head a little. “You… Can’t?”

You nod. “It feels like it lost meaning over the years. Maybe because I’m growing older? In any case, maybe it doesn’t actually need meaning…”

“You sound like you’re backtracking because I called you out.”

“You don’t need to point it out. Isn’t cake enough, anyways?!”

He scoffs softly. “Then what are we doing here?”

You look at him for a long few seconds, and this time his mind isn’t allowed to go anywhere. Your gaze anchors him where he sits and he can’t go anywhere else. He has no escape. He can only look at you. “Because I think it’s meaningful. I’m glad you were born, and that you exist, and that I get to exist with you.” you say, and he’s almost in awe at how easily all of this came out of your mouth.

“I…” I don’t understand, is what he wanted to say. But he thinks he feels blessed to be allowed to live a life where he got to meet you. So that just wouldn’t be true. He does understand. “I see.”

It’s been a few years since you’ve known each other. Around four birthdays, he recalls. You’ve been celebrating his birth on this day each year since you two met. It should make sense, then, that you cherish him. It should go without saying that you want to celebrate this day with him. But some part of him still can’t believe you really care this much. Before, he would have never dreamed of anyone caring so much about him they would even remember the day he was born. He thinks he would’ve probably forgotten it if it wasn’t for you.

Birthdays are meaningless for a Yaksha. For someone who lives so long and so alone. However he’s not alone, anymore.

So then to him, this day is now meaningful because you’re there. Because you invited him. Because you continue to remind him it matters to you. Because you want to celebrate that he was born, and that he exists. It’s meaningful because you care about him.

“Should I say it more clearly?”

“More clearly?”

“I hope I can remind you I’m happy you’re here for every year you and life itself allow me to.”

If Xiao’s heart hurt before, then he doesn’t know how to describe the way it feels now. It’s at least ten times worse. You’re really willing to waste this day each year, aren’t you? He wants to sound annoyed but he feels anything but.

“I don’t think…” he takes a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “I don't think it needed to be clarified. I got it.”

You unfortunately seem to catch on to how flustered he is and lean closer. His gaze hesitates between looking at you and elsewhere several times before settling on elsewhere.

“Your embarrassment is making mine disappear. Thank you, really.”

“So you were embarrassed…” Xiao scoffs under his breath, “Didn’t sound like it. Maybe I didn’t pay close enough attention.”

He feels your fingertips touch his face, silently asking to hold him. He lets you.

“Then pay attention.” you say, guiding his face towards yours. Your eyes are close enough to see the moon reflected in them. Pretty.

“I am.”

“Great.” you smile, “Happy birthday.”

Your palm is cold against the skin of his cheek. He swears your skin is usually the warmer one. Is his face warmer than usual?

He looks away. He can’t help it. “…Thank you.”

Your hand is even colder. No, his face is warmer. 

Then you pull away and he misses how cool it felt, so he grabs your hand before it’s too far away, and holds onto the feeling of it in his. You hum in question and he just intertwines his fingers with yours before looking back up. It would seem nonchalant if his face wasn’t still so warm, but he doesn’t care too much. If the sky is on his side the moonlight will only be bright enough to see you and nothing else.

You’re the only one he’ll always be willing to celebrate something so meaningless with. You’ve been known (to him) to have a way of making things meaningful by simply being there, anyways. Maybe he should be the one to get you a gift for that. Flowers? He thinks about your bag again and wonders if you didn’t one-up him, already.

“Did you call me all the way here to talk about the meaning of our existence?” he asks, trying to lighten the air. You laugh and get your bag, not letting go of his hand.

“Nah. I got you something.”

He sighs, and smiles. “Of course you did.”

“It’s simple, okay? Don’t worry!”

[onskepa]

Syawn: Three heads, one face

Helloooooooo! Gosh its been a good while since the last update for this series! But here it is! Another beautiful chapter! Enjoy~!!

Syawn series

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

Tuk, lo’ak and kiri were running like their life depended on it. Each holding a precious cargo. Their hearts pounding, sweat dripping, tired to the bone. They pass their friends and relatives to reach their destination. Only they can know. Yes, only them. 

“Come on! Hurry!” kiri urges her siblings. 

They all climb to a home, trying to get there as fast as possible without dropping their package. 

When they reached inside, the three siblings took a sigh of relief. 

“What are you three doing?” a voice asks them. 

The sully siblings look up to see syawn who was staring down at them. 

“Syawn! We need your help!” tuk practically shouts. Syawn tilts her head. 

“Help on what?” she asks. 

Kiri, lo’ak and tuk help up their cargo. 

“We can't tell who is who!” lo’ak whines as they were holding syawn’s triplet babies. All three smilings and cooed at seeing their mother. 

Neteyam and syawn knew from the start they would have a little problem with their children. Being triplets meant having the same face. And having the same face would confuse people. Confused people will go to them for figure out who is who. The cycle repeats.

“It shouldn't be that hard to see the difference” syawn mutters as she and neteyam bathes their babies. Being their parents, of course they know who is who.

“We are their parents, my love, it is our duty and instinct to know. For others who only see them for a short time, it is difficult” neteyam answers. He gives a light tickle to lu’lafyon who giggles happily.

Syawn puts flower nectar on their hairs gently.

“What if we use different colors for their loin cloths?” she suggests.

Neteyam thinks about it for a moment, “alright, seems like a good idea”.

Usually they would use different shades of purple for their loin clothes, it was easy. Have the triplets match while also making the shades different enough. Neteyam liked it, syawn thought it would be cute.

“Bah!” lu’law was splashing the water joyfully as her brothers copy her.

“You dont think this problem will continue in the years to come, would it?” syawn asks.

“Who knows, but if that were to happen, no doubt these little ones will take full advantage”

If only neteyam knew just how correct he was. 

“Lu’law get back here!” 

“I'm not lu’law, I'm lu'tstunwi!” 

“Lu’lafyon! You too!” 

“But im lu’law!” 

“No you arent! Im lu’law!”

The triplets all snicker mischievously as they hang from the high branches. They look down at their grandparents and aunts and uncles. Their relatives are already annoyed by their antics. 

“Just wait until your parents hear about this!” lo’ak shouts. 

“Don't be a downer uncle loki!” one of the triplets said. 

Tuk was trying her very best to differentiate the three siblings, but its really hard. 

They have the exact same stripes, same features, same height, same voice, down to the same top and loin cloth. Literal copies of three. And the lululu’s abuse that power. 

“Yeah!” the other triplet agrees. 

Neytiri hisses, “I will pull you three from your ears if I have to!” she threatens. 

“How grangran? You have two hands!” one of the triplets stuck their tongue out. 

“Jake! You handle this!” her patience was so low at this point. 

Jake sighed heavily, he was getting way too old for this. “Kids, come on, we played this game a million times over. Dont you ever get tired of playing guess who?” 

The triplets all shook their heads, “its fun grandpa!” 

“Yeah! It never gets old!” 

“Its too much fun!” 

Kiri was pinching the bridge of her nose, “look guys, we really need you to get down. We have the ceremony happening tonight and you three pulling pranks on the people are holding everyone down” she explains. 

The triplets groan in unison, “why do we have to attend?” 

“Yeah! Its got nothing to do with us!” 

“We rather watch the ikrans hatch!” 

“Because we said so” 

The triplets turned their heads to see their father staring down at them. 

“Down, now” 

And obediently they did without any more complaints. 

The rest of the sully family watch the interaction with slight amazement. 

“Sorry, they are starting to get a bit cocky at their game” syawn says as she walks up to her family. 

“OWOWOWOWOWOW!” her children complain as neteyam pulls their tails. Syawn looks at them disapprovingly. 

“We talked about this” she begins with her stern voice. 

“But maaaaaa! We got bored!” 

“Yeah! We only wanted to play!” 

“Yeah! And its boring doing all this stuff” 

Neteyam yanked their tails again, but not too harshly. 

“Boring or not, tonight is very important to everyone. Especially for your grandparents. Now look at them, you have them tangled up in your game and taking their time away from their duties. Same with your aunts and uncle” she lectures. 

The triplets hang their heads low, trying to avoid eye contact. 

“Apologize” neteyam growls a bit. 

“Sorry….” they muttered. Feeling a bit guilty but not really. 

“Say it like you mean it” neteyam scolds. 

“Sorry!” they said again, this time more sincere. Syawn hums in satisfaction. 

“And next time, dont waste people's time”

“Bro….what if, instead of three, there were six of us?” lu’lafyon says out of nowhere. He lays on the grass staring up at the sky with his siblings. Lu’law made a face, trying to imagine it. Lu’tstunwi made a disapproving expression. 

“Six? I can barely share with you two” he remarks, earning two slaps on his head. 

“No but think about it! More of us!” lu’lafyon goes on. 

“Wouldn't that hurt mom? Dad said she was really tired and exhausted when she birthed us” lu’law points out. Her brother hum in thought. 

“True….also our family can barely tolerate us. If there were 6, now that would be a village of its own” lu’tstunwi adds. 

Trying to imagine three more of themselves seemed fun but also hard. What would their life be like? How would they influence each other and those around them? Most of all, how will their parents take care of 6 kids? 

“True….and everyone would be annoyed awhole lot quicker” lu’law says. 

They continue to stare up at the sky, watching ikrans fly around. 

“What if….one of us, or all three of us will also have triplets?” lu’law questions. They havent passed their iknimaya yet, but sometimes they think of what adult life would be like. Watching and observing their parents, grandparents and other adults in the village, it seemed like a lot of fun. 

“Who knows….” lu’tstunwi mutters. 

“But…will the person who we fall in love will want triplets?” this time lu’lafyon questions. 

Tough questions they kept on asking, with answers that may or may not be answered. 

It was sunset, syawn was making a new top as neteyam cleans a bit around their home. He took notice of her craft. Stopping what he was doing, he sits down to join her. 

“Trying for a new look my love?” he asks as he pulls her ino his arms. Syawn shakes her head. 

“No, this is for lu’law” she answers. He looks around to notices something. 

“Just for lu’law?” he wonders. 

“Yes, I was thinking, lu’law is the only girl, so I figured making this top will help in figuring out who is who. And dont worry, I plan to make different loin clothes for out sons as well” syawn answers. 

Neteyam took a moment to understand her reasons. 

Logically speaking, it will help tremendously for everyone to see the difference and finally know which triplet is who. 

But at the same time….

“Do the children know of your idea?” he asks. 

Syawn chuckles a bit nervously, “I was hoping this would be a surprise…” 

Putting her work down, she turns to face her husband, “I know we started this habit of theirs. Matching their clothes, and colors. But I worry that one day someone will say something or people won't take their fun lightly. They are getting older and they will have to find an identity of their own. I figured I would give them a push….tell me net, am I in the wrong?” 

Neteyam strokes his wife’s face, taking in her motherly worry. 

“I say…we let them. Yes it will annoy everyone but remember syawn. They are a walking miracle, they know how unique their life is. If they enjoy being one face, why ruin that? They are still young and exploring life. Lets give them more time” he answers. 

Syawn smiles softly, laying her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. 

“I can always count on you for these choices” 

“Ichi!” 

“Ni!” 

“Kevin!” 

The triplets named their ikrans. 

Jake rolled his eyes so damn hard. Of course they would name their ikrans after that three headed dragon. 

They passed their important stage of their iknimaya. Taming an ikran. Everyone was so proud to see them succeed. Syawn was ready to cry, by either how scared she was or how happy she is. 

“Mom! Dad! We did it!” the triplets cried out in glee. 

“Take your first flight! Go go!” neteyam shouts. Nodding, one by one the siblings take a leap from the cliff with their ikrans. 

For the triplets, it felt amazing. To feel so connected to their new friends. Going high, making sharp angles. A new sense of freedom was felt. 

“C’mon, lets see what we can pull off!” lu’lafyon shouts, already making a steep dive. His siblings following his move. Some tricks were done wonderfully, others in close call. But the final trick, that was going to take some practice. 

“Oh you have got to…” neteyam muttered. High in the sky, coming straight down at them looked like an actual three headed dragon. 

“MOM!! DAD!! LOOK LOOK LOOK!” lu’tstunwi shouts, his and his siblings ikrans were layed on top of one another, not touching but really close. Flying in the same speed as they make an illusion of king ghidorah. 

“They truly are three of a kind” syawn chuckles. Impressed how they managed to pull something like that so quickly. 

“Yes and I feel three separate heart attacks” neteyam mutters as he continues to look at his children. For sure, they will be a force to be reckoned with. 

Here is a looooooooong over due chapter! It was short but sweet! I still wanna add more chapters to this series! What else should I do? Im open for suggestions!

But until then, see ya!

Liking the series? Click here to put your name to the taglist!

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[factual-fantasy]

Heya Factual! Hope things are going as good as they can on your end! Sorry it's been a bit since my last Ask, I got sick AGAIN and have been out of commission for a while now. But at last I have returned! Sorry to see your still having some technical troubles- really hoping you can figure it all out!

Also, I wanted to thank you! While I was sick, inspired by your art, I decided to give Sky a try on mobile (just got a new phone), and while I'm still super early in the game, it seems really cool! I'm not sure how linear the game is, but I figured I'd ask, as a veteran, do you have any advice or pointers for a beginner? Anything of interest I should check out or invest in? (Oh, and also, sorry about the color swap disappointments, sounds like a real bummer!)

And lastly, unrelated, I really liked the Pomni and Gummigoo art you did a few days back! I really like both of them together, and would love to see more of their story later down the road! Though I was wondering, you mentioned Max and Chad both stuck around in your AU too! Any cool redesign or story ideas for those two? Do they stick with Gummigoo, or have they branched out over time into the other friend groups?

(Color swap disappointment post) (Pomni and Gummigoo post)

Hello! Oof, sorry to hear that you got sick again <:(( But I'm glad you seem to be feeling better! As for my tech issues I have gotten a new chord for my tablet and have downloaded a fresh FireAlpaca. So far none of the screen glitches have come back and FireAlpaca is working perfectly! :))

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad you liked it!! :}} And while Chad's ref sheet is done, Max's is still in the sketch stage. I just haven't gotten around to finishing him <:/

Now their friend groups.. I was thinking that not many circus goers really vibe with NPCs all that much. So the number of people who they can make genuine friendships with is limited.. that being said I think Chad and Max would find a solid friendships with Gangle and maybe Zibble and uhhh... Ms. Wiggles..? Maybe? :0

Gangle has a soft spot for NPCs thanks to Bella and respects them more than others. So out of the 3 I think their friendships would be strongest with her.

Now sky.. ohhh boy prepare for a wall of text <XDD (Note there is a little spoiler for something in Golden Wasteland!)

Alrighty, so when I got this ask I sat down and made a list of every little nugget of sky advice I could possibly think of. Until eventually I took a step back and realized that a lot of it wasn't really solid advice or pointers <XDD so I cut the list down into somethings that I either wish a veteran would have taught me when I was a moth. Or things I found out too late and missed out on something or anything like that. Plus some advice I've tired really hard to beat into other moths heads for their own good but they never understand me in game <XDD

First off. Seasons, reoccurring events and non reoccurring events. Its important to know the difference between the three for this advice.

Seasons are limited-time themed events that come with the option of purchasing an Season Pass, which allows players to access extra Cosmetics and Expressions during the Season in exchange for an in-game purchase.👇👇👇

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Special Events (also called Holiday Events). These are limited-time events introducing new cosmetics themed around real-life celebrations. Most Special Events recur annually. Some of these events take place in the Secret Area, accessible from the Vault of Knowledge. They are separate from, but may overlap with, Seasonal Events and Double Currency Events.👇👇👇

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Non-recurring Events (or Short Events). These events are special or unannounced events that do not repeat or return due to their special characteristics. This list also includes events that have not been confirmed to return nor have a history of recurrence.👇👇👇

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Alrighty, got that all processed? I hope so <XD Now onto my advice.

1: Collaborative in app purchase items (items you need to buy with real money) will never return. Let me explain.

In sky there is a reoccurring event made by sky called days of fortune. (Its basically a Chinese new year event) Its going on right now actually! :0 This event has come back once a year every year. And the cosmetics that you need to purchase with real money have come back every time too.

However, the Cinnamoroll collaborative event? That event and all of the items it brought with it will not reoccur.

You have to be careful and check every event and make sure its one that will return. If its a collab season like Cinnamoroll and you don't buy the items? They will vanish and you wont have the chance to buy them ever again :( I learned my lesson the hard way when I didn't buy the fox plush and the yellow scarf from season of the little prince years and years ago. 😔 Up to this point the little prince's in app purchase items have not returned since.

This goes for collaborative seasons as well. Season of the little prince, season of aurora and season of moomin, etc, will not have their in app purchase items return. Be careful to know which is which during the event/season so you don't regret anything!

Another note about non returning items: While individual spirits that you can relive the memories of, can return as traveling spirits once every 2 weeks.. any items that the guide of that season offers will be unavailable after the season ends. 👇👇👇

Also speaking of traveling spirits, here's some advice I had to figure out myself. As someone who has every single traveling spirit in the game? As long as you have 200 candles, 40 hearts and 20 ascended candles? You will be able to afford all the cosmetics from ANY traveling spirit that shows up. If you keep a nice candle run schedule this wont be too hard to keep up with!

Also note about traveling spirits. They can take a looong time to return. When I first started playing I bought out half the items a traveling spirit offered before he left. I knew he would come back so I wasn't upset. But it took 2 REAL LIFE YEARS. 2 WHOLE YEARS for him to FINALLY come back. So this is why I advise you be really careful with the 200🕯️,40💝 and 20🧨. It would suck a lot if a spirit showed up that you really liked!.. Only for you to not afford it and have to wait a year or two to see it again <XDD

Now currency. Sky tries to make out that ascended candles are the most valuable currency. This is a load of bologna. By far the most valuable and sought after currency is hearts. You can go and get ascended candles by yourself all you want. But hearts have to be given to you by other players in one way or another. Which makes them EXTREMELY hard to get for some people. My advice is to hoard those things like your life depends on it. Try to have a stock pile of at least 30 to prepare for any temporary and expensive items that may come your way. Don't go and blow them all on the home spirits like I did <XDD

Now candle runs.. a lot of players will tell you you have to do a candle run through the ENTIRE GAME to keep up with sky's bonkers prices. Which is sometimes true... However, I have recently discovered this candle run route on YouTube that has helped me loads! I modified it a little and don't do the turtle thing, but if you're worried about runs that take hours this could be very useful to you! About a week or soo of keeping up with it and I'm almost at 400 candles! :)))

Another thing I want to advise is the whole ultimate reward thing in the home constellations. (Random google images)

The game will tell you that if you ascend all the spirits in a realm constatation, that it'll unlock the "ultimate reward". Which is that question mark in the middle. Typically this means you just gotta buy every single item from every single spirit in that constellation and the reward will be unlocked.

THAT IS NOT THE CASE HERE!! You do NOT have to buy the VERY EXPENSIVE tier 2 capes that some spirits offer. Just everything else. So repeat you buy everything the spirits offer, but you DO NOT have to buy the super expensive tier 2 capes in order to unlock the ultimate reward. Save your hearts, you're welcome! XDD

Now the Golden Wasteland advice. As a veteran I NEED to teach you HOW to burn down this plant in wasteland.

This plant is in the last area before the temple in wasteland. Not to be confused with the GIANT PLANT that's in the area infested with Krill. This is the smaller one after it. And there has been DOZENS UPON DOZENS of times a moth has come by to help me burn it down and not known how to do it. I've sat there for 20 minutes each time trying DESPERATLY to communicate what order to burn the plant down but they never get it. So I shall teach you!

Hopefully that little comic got my point across! XD

Another word of advice is to check out nastymold on YouTube! She is a very sweet and soft spoken YouTuber that plays the beta version of sky. She gets all the updates early and makes short videos explaining everything you need to know about any events or seasons. If you're ever confused about anything or are afraid you may miss out on something in an event, just check out her channel! No doubt she's already covered it and explained it for you so you don't miss nothing!

Now my last word of advice for you is this. Take the game slow. Really soak up your moth days and take your time playing it.

Many veteran players are heartbroken that they let another veteran drag them through their moth days and didn't really get to explore or experience anything naturally for themselves. And other veterans just miss their moth days in general. When the game felt huge and there was so much to explore and so many things to save and grind for.

I don't think I'm like that personally, I'm way more relaxed as a veteran knowing I understand how the game works and I'm not missing out on anything. But I can understand missing those moth days feeling like a kid running around and seeing all the beautiful things for the first time.

So just take things nice and slow. Soak up the game at a nice pace. if there's an event that you'd like to partake in but don't understand it just watch nastymold. She always has a sweet little video that tells you all you need to know without really dampening your moth experience. You can only be a moth once.

Well that's all the actually practical advice I had on my list. I hope you find some use in this wall of text XDD thanks for reading and see you in the skies! 💞🕊️

[smashboxgirl26]

sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat

ph! katsuki bakugou x fem! (though i don't state pronouns) reader summary: katsuki realizes his feelings a little too late contains: mentions of sex, angst (with a maybe happy ending) word count: 2.8k words masterlist

Under the shadows of the coming morning—the sun rising through the blinds of the bedroom windows in your apartment—Katsuki liked to pretend that you were his. 

Just his. 

He tended to be up earlier than you anyways—with years of waking up for hero work instilled in his sleep schedule—but he liked that time. It was quiet in the mornings; only the sounds of the early morning traffic and the birds nested in the tree next to your apartment to keep him company besides your breathing: breaths that were soft and sweet and slow. 

He would curl his palm over your cheek, pressing your figure closer to his as he watched your chest rise and fall under him, stroking your skin softly with his rough thumb—because you were his in that moment. 

Just his.

In those times, he would forget what the reality of his life was—the way you would stare at him tiredly every time he knocked on your door past 1 am, the lingering feeling of your fingers on his cheeks when he leaned in for a kiss, how you would oblige him no matter how many times you’d called him while drunk and upset, the kisses he left on your forehead before he left you alone the next morning—

—That you were not his and he was not yours, no matter how many times he liked to repeat it to himself.

It’s because of my work—he said to himself in the morning, stroking your hair out of your face.

It’s because I don’t have the time to commit—he whispered, nestling himself into the crook of your neck so he could smell the lingering scent of mint, strawberries, and sex.

If only we met under different circumstances… If only my job wasn’t so demanding… If only it was easier… If only I could commit…

If only…

After a while, you only nodded when he whispered those words at three am and your head was resting on his bare chest—like you believed him. 

(Before you would get upset, turn away, tell him to leave—and the cycle would repeat.)

You’d kiss his neck in acknowledgment, curling up in his arms like a cat would—uncaring, unaware. 

He wished he could do the same; just accept the reality in front of him. 

But it didn’t matter, because right now, you were his. 

Just his.

It was the complacency that let the cycle continue; but it was the complacency that became his downfall. He realized this when he stopped leaving you after ten minutes of waking up—waiting for the pink sky to turn bright, watching your eyes flutter open under the light of forthcoming day, the small smile that creeped into your eyes when you realized he was still there—mornings spent in the kitchen drinking coffee and sharing laughs while you paraded around in the sweatshirt he left the first time he came over. 

(It was his favorite in school—black and oversized with a small embroidered insignia of All Might above the right breast.

He didn’t even know he’d lost it until you came out wearing it one morning—and some of his old cologne was still lingering on the collar.)

He let himself forget—deluded himself—into thinking it would last. That he wouldn’t eventually have to pull away, and the dream-like haze he’d lost himself in with you wouldn’t end.

Just his.

It happened five weeks later, after a month-long mission: the morning after, and you were standing in a shirt that wasn’t his with a coffee mug pressed up to your lips like it would hide what you were about to say.

“I think… I think we should end this here, Katsuki.”

The words didn’t register at first, and he stood there staring—trying to come up with an answer.

“This?”

“...us.” Your lips pressed together solemnly, as if whispering a prayer under your breath—and you let out a tired sigh. So very tired. “Our relationship.”

He grunted, unwilling to open his mouth in retaliation. The fear that had been festering in his head began to rise, ugly and thick like bile coming up his throat—and he stood still, silently, staring at the coffee you made for him with too much sugar in the mug he got you from a mission a couple months ago. 

“...I’ve been seeing someone,” you let out—but Katsuki didn’t dare look at your face; Venom sat at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spit out—

—Because you were supposed to be his. 

Just his. “Don’t call it a relationship,” he settled on—enough spite in his voice that he knew it would deter you. “It never was one.”

He expected you to look relieved when he finally stared up at you again, but your expression seemed more soured than before: like you were expecting a different answer to push past his lips. It was quickly replaced though, by a smile that didn’t seem to meet your eyes like they did when you’d wake up in the morning to still find him in bed next to you, before taking another sip of your too-sweet coffee.

“Thank you, Katsuki.”

He didn’t know what you were thanking him for—your time together? For letting you go when you’d both been hooking up like this for almost a year?

And he wasn’t even sure why it felt so bitter. He’d known from the beginning that, whatever this was, wouldn’t last forever. 

Why would you stay in something like this, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to give you more than the little bit of time he already did? Why wouldn’t you want someone who consistently woke up with you in the morning to give you breakfast in bed, or brought you flowers after work, or could take you out in the evenings for dinner?

You deserved that—you deserved all of it. 

So why did he think (hope) you would settle for the little moments he offered you when you could have the world?

He kept his face blank when he left your apartment that morning—drilling the hole in his brain that had been dedicated to you in silence—simultaneously missing the sound of sobbing that came from your apartment as soon as he stepped out the door. 

He thought he would be okay—that in a week or so, it’d be back to how it was without you. 

But it wasn’t.

One week turned into two; two weeks turned into four; and four weeks turned into sitting at the bar, drunk while still in his hero outfit, with Kirishima sitting next to him as he rambled on about you.

You were the only thing he thought about, the only thing he could think about—he missed the scent of your body wash, the warmth of your skin on his, the small teasing smiles you’d give and the dimple that only appeared on one cheek, the too-sweet coffee he’d subject himself to drinking, watching the sunrise while feeling you laying next to him…

Everything about you felt like home.

He’d even gotten distracted the other day during a villain attack because there was a civvie who looked just like you in the line of fire and he’d panicked. 

“It was such a fuckin’ rookie, stupid ass mistake, and I still made it,” he took the last sip of his pint before letting out a small, frustrated grunt because it was finished. 

Eijirou moved to prevent Katsuki from flagging the bartender down for a refill—he was drunk enough after two pints; instead, he signaled for the check while Katsuki groaned in response.

“I’m not fuckin’ finished.”

“Yes, you are,” Eijirou stared at him with a pinched expression. “You have patrol first thing in the morning—you’ll thank me for it then.”

Katsuki huffed under his breath in resignation—unfortunately Eijirou was correct. Not only that, but the upcoming lecture he knew would be coming from the higher ups would be infinitely worse with a splitting hangover. 

“I’ll pay for it,” Eijirou shooed him off his barstool. “Just go stand outside for a bit, maybe the cold will help sober you up a little before you go to sleep.”

Katsuki could only huff in response; his mind was swimming and blurred and his head felt heavy enough that he could only comply with what Eijirou had said—he’d have to pay him back for it later. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he trudged outside. 

The late-winter-early-spring winds nipped against his skin as soon as the door shut behind him, and Katsuki pulled the scarf he was wearing higher up to fully cover his neck and chin—shifting uncomfortably in the cold while he waited for Kirishima. The street was basically empty except for the couple people walking in and out of the bar; he guessed that it was too cold for people to be wandering around at night. Most of the shops on the streets were closed too, leaving the only illumination to come from the blinking street lamps that lined the sidewalk and the gibbous moon above.

“What’s takin’ so fuckin’ long…” he muttered under his breath—trying to peer into the window to see what Kirishima was doing. 

When he turned back, he spotted a couple walking in the distance; though he couldn’t make out their faces, their intertwined hands and the closeness they exuded was enough. Katsuki could see his breath in the air when he sighed, loudly, mind buried in the memories of what could have been—until they were close enough that he could make out their faces: and he realized, it was you.

And you looked happy with the extra, he couldn’t lie—all cheeky, rosy smiles and giggles as he told you some joke that he could barely get through without laughing himself; you were holding a bouquet of pink and yellow tulips in one hand, with the other hand clasped in his (which he occasionally brought up to his lips to kiss the back of); he was carrying both the leftovers of the restaurant you both just went to and a shopping bag from a store you’d always liked.

You looked… at peace—with yourself, your situation.

But as happy as you looked, he couldn’t help the ugly, selfish feeling boiling in the back of his throat.

Because you were just his.

Because… that should’ve been him.

It should’ve been him—holding your hand, leading you through the night with confidence, and the other holding everything you wanted to buy while you smiled and giggled on his arm. 

You’d love teasing him. You’d loved spending time with him, as little as it was.

And though he’d refused it for so long, you’d loved him too.

He’d spent weeks, months, trying to ignore that fact when the two of you were together, if you could even classify it as that—and here he was, stuck in the same fucking position; he was destined to just watch you from afar as you moved on from the cycle he’d pushed you into, while he lost himself in it instead.

Maybe he was just selfish.

Katsuki didn’t even know when he started following you both, distantly (maybe he couldn’t help it, maybe he just wanted to make sure you reached home safe)—Eijirou was an afterthought at that point—and when you’d finally reached your apartment.

The extra even offered to come up and drop the bags off so you wouldn’t have to carry them up the stairs yourself, but you declined: kissing him shortly before waving goodbye and watching him leave. 

Watching you kiss him seemed to wake Katsuki up, his glazed over eyes finally seeming to register his surroundings: the streetlamps overhead, the light from the apartments lining the building, the little crack in the paint of the building where he’d once apprehended a villain to save you, you staring at him—

—you were staring at him? Katsuki didn’t shift from where he was standing as you walked up to him, leftovers and shopping and tulips forgotten on the sidewalk in front of your apartment.

“Katsuki?” Your lips barely moved, and your hands were pressed to your sides. You were trembling slightly—and he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or him.

He didn’t answer; he couldn’t will his mouth to open in front of you.

“Wh–What are you doing here?”

Even worse, he couldn’t bear to tell you the truth.

“I uh… I was on patrol nearby.”

You stared off to that little crack in the painted wall as if you were reminiscing, avoiding his gaze—your fingers rubbing together red in the cold with wobbly knuckles.

You were freezing.

“Here,” he grunted, slowly pulling his scarf from under his neck to hand it to you. Your expression instantly changed, and though you tried to dissuade him, the visible puffs of air coming from your nose were enough to tell him that it was something you needed.

“I… Thank you…” you whispered, letting him wrap it around you. “You always said you hated the cold, so…”

“Doesn’t matter. You clearly need it more than I do.”

This was his final act, he’d decided. He couldn’t hold you back any longer—not when he couldn’t give you what you wanted and needed out of him; no, it was what you deserved. Maybe his final act of stupidity would mean enough to him in the future that he’d be able to move on; and maybe one day the stupid scarf would just be a memento you had, instead of a reminder of the hurt he knew he’d brought.

And it was all so fucking dumb and poetic—standing in the spot you’d both met, saying your final goodbyes with your happy ending just waiting in the distance: waiting for him to get out of your life so it could be whole and right again.

But when you turned around, and started walking back towards the tulips he never bought you, leftovers from the restaurants where he never took you, and the clothes he’d never offered to buy—your apartment where his sweatshirt was laying in the first, top drawer of your dresser—the words were choked out of his throat.

Because you were supposed to be just his.

And maybe the alcohol in his system had the influence, but he couldn’t let you go: not when you were the best thing that’d ever happened in his entire life. 

The echoing sound of boots slapping loudly against the pavement and your name being called out by his heavy cries was enough to stop you in your tracks—and at first he thought it was because you didn’t want to see him again: but when he called your name once more and you turned around, he learned it was because you were already crying.

“I…I love you,” he whispered when he was close enough, fighting the urge to wipe your tears away like his own weren’t following quickly behind.

“Katsuki…” you smeared your cold fingers over your face, trying to wipe away the evidence that kept falling. “I-I…Y-You…Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for those words to come out of your lips?” you couldn’t really stop the tears from falling now—and he could only pathetically watch as they did. “Do you know how much I’ve fucking ached and cried over those three stupid fucking words? And now… Now that I finally feel okay, you’re standing here—pretending like you can make it alright again? How can you–”

“I love you,” he repeated, grounding his stance in the pavement. He couldn’t let you slip straight through his fingers. “I’ve loved you since I blasted that idiot against that wall to save you. I’ve loved you since you dressed my wounds in your apartment. I’ve loved you since we met at that coffee shop again down the street. I’ve loved you through every night spent together, and through every mission spent away…” He repeated your name once more, cradling your face in his rough, cold palms like he would an oath to his heart. “And—m’sorry… I-I know I was a fuckin’ idiot this whole time not realizin’ it, and you can hate me all you want but I… I just needed you to know, ‘kay?—I couldn’t let you walk out of my life without knowing.”

He couldn’t even face you anymore, not when he could feel the tear that’d begun leaking down his cheek at the thought of you rejecting his admission: a secret he’d kept close to his heart, burying it underneath years of repression and loathing.

And now it was out in the open, left for you to stomp on if you wanted to.

“You say that now, Katsuki,” you uttered, the tears now drying on your cheeks. “But we both know that whatever this is isn’t gonna last.” You scoffed bitterly, putting your hands over his—perhaps in an attempt to remove them from where they were plastered to your skin—but instead they just rested over his while your bottom lip wobbled dangerously. 

He knew you were right. He knew that everything you said was true.

And yet—

—he kissed you anyway. 

Because you knew: that you were just his and he was just yours.