#Echo deserve more love so I needed to share my rumbling no?

[belovedcloud]

Your writing is so good! If it's not too much trouble, can you write soft loving sex with Las Plagas Leon or any of your favorite Leon's?

Crave

pairing: las plagas! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ Notes: i hope you like this, i was thinking about las plagas leon and him being possessive of you in a cuddly way when he comes back from saving ashley. sorry that it's short, i have a lot going on for me atm!

➤ WC: 1.55K

➤ CW: porn with barely any plot, possessive leon, leon sucking and appreciating your tits (he's definitely a boob guy), pet names: sweetheart, baby, my love. p in v (unprotected sex), creampie, fingering & rubbing.

Days passed, worry flooded all over your body as you wondered where your boyfriend was. Although you knew this mission was important in many ways than one - Leon never deserved to be forced into working for the government. However, you couldn't help him in any way but care for him when he came home. Tonight would be different, the Leon that returned wouldn't be the one you knew.

You snuggled yourself onto your couch, the only sounds ringing in your ears was the sound of the wall clock ticking each second. 02:41 AM. Your eyes wouldn't bring themselves to sleep, the constant ideas of what Leon was doing made you shiver in fear. His mission was laced in pure secrecy, nobody but him and the government knew what he was doing. Suddenly, the thoughts in your mind were quickly shut off as you heard keys jingle, a familiar figure yanking them out as he opened the door. He was home. You rapidly lifted yourself up, fumbling the blanket in your hands as your eyes gazed upon Leon. He seemed different. Low groans sporadically came out of his mouth as he threw his duffel bag against the wall, Leon's eyes averted to you. Without hesitation he approached you, wrapping his arms around you. "I missed you... Fuck, you smell good." The feeling of his voice rumbled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzled his head into it. "L-Leon, you should really go rest." A small mewl erupted out of your throat as you slowly caressed his arm, staring upon it. Why was black liquid flowing through his veins?

You tried to pull his head away from your neck, but to no avail. He calmly sucked onto your skin, holding you gently. Leon fought off the feeling of something telling him to lose control, he wanted to make love to you. To caress you in ways where the softest moans would be elicited out of you. Subconsciously, his arms lifted you up for the ground, pulling his face away from your neck. This time, you could focus on the cuts and fresh scars that illustrated all over his face. The dark veins protruding out as he took you upstairs. "Leon? What is up with you?" Your soft voice echoed through his brain, oh how he loved you. How he loved you soft skin against his, the roughness of his own pressing against yours. "What do you mean my love?" His coarse voice juxtaposed his mellow actions towards you, gently placing you down on the shared bed. He stared at your figure with such lust and adoration apparent in his eyes, the way his shirt hugged your curves just right. Your shorts pressing into your plush skin as the movement of his hands slowly crept onto your thighs. Rubbing them tenderly as he gave you a small smile.

"What do you mean? I mean... Look at you. You've got some pattern on your skin." You whispered out as his touch infected you with a burning feeling. An ache pulsing where you needed to be touch - how his hands were so close to your sensitive clit. Was this right? You didn't even know if you knew the man in front of you. Of course it was Leon, your lover, was it really him? "Don't worry about me baby, look at how gorgeous you are." He purred out, slowly lifting up his shirt to see your tits. God, they were perfect. He couldn't help but remove his own shirt, feeling hot in his own skin. Seeing your body was a fuel that he never knew he needed, his veins becoming more prominent in his skin. Spreading all over him, your face still in constant worry. Leon didn't like that. He didn't like that you worried for him, when he felt perfectly fine right? He knew he wasn't okay, the voices still in his head and flashbacks to when he previously just saved Ashley. The government would find some type of cure for him, surely right?

The pads of his fingers fondled with your nipples, his mouth enclosing on one of them as he looked up to see your blissful face. Light moans escaping your throat as your fingers laced themselves into his hair strands - tugging on them just slightly. Leon groaned into your tits, feeling himself jerk into the soft bed you both laid on. He craved you. Your body craved him too as a wet patch formed on your panties, the baby blue colour turning dark as your slick clung on it. Leon's hands moved methodically all over your body, caressing parts that needed him for so long. Until moving them to tug under the waistband of your shorts. "Can I?" He begged, his eyes pleading for you to say yes. A quiet mumble fell out of your lips as you granted him permission to see you. To see that pretty pussy he missed so much. A bite of your lip nearly drove Leon over the edge as he touched the wet spot on your panties. He could smell the sweetness of your pussy calling out to him. Without a thought, he pulled them off.

"L-Leon!" You yelped as you felt his fingers slowly slide into you. "Need to get you ready baby, want to make you feel good with my cock." The squelches of your cunt taking two of his fingers muffled his sentence as he watched them go in and out. A slight curve to his movement causing a loud whine to flood out of your mouth. You could feel yourself starting to gush onto him, needing more of his touch. Leon's other hand interlaced with yours, a sweet look on his face of appreciation as he watched you moan his name out. He was so in love with you. This new profound feeling in him, made him feel different from any other time he was having sex with you. You were his, his craving. A familiar feeling bubbled up in your chest as you felt the pad of his thumb rub on your little clit. "O-oh Leon..." A mellow moan left you as you shook in his touch, your orgasm gushing out. "That's my good girl... Yeah, cum on my fingers." His praises inundated you. You desired this, as much as he desired you.

Leon made quick work of his pants as he unbuckled his belt, removing the cargos that he used in his rampage in Spain. A wet spot standing out on his boxers where his tip leaked out it's pre-cum. Your eyes followed his hand as he pulled his cock out, it was beaming a harsh pink colour. Impulsively, you sat up and reached out for it. A gasp hushed out Leon's lips as he moaned into his hand, feeling your hand rub his hard cock. "Fuck... Baby please I can't do this anymore." A soft smile appeared on your face as he took it into his own hands, positioning himself in front of your entrance. A slow but steady thrust left you both panting as he rutted himself into you.

"Oh my.. fuck, you feel so good sweetheart." Leon whimpered out as he placed his hands on your hips, staring into your eyes as his thighs tapped against yours. He didn't want to fuck you, he wanted to make love. You were his pretty girl, the one he loved so dear and if it meant holding back his own urges for your pleasure, he would do it in a heartbeat. The eye contact shared between you and Leon made you shy; you covered your face, just to have your hands softly removed by your lovers. "Let me see you.. please you're so pretty like this." His lips pressed against yours, moans rung out between the both of you. Creating a melody filled with raw passion as his thrusts became deeper. Your eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy as you felt yourself shake.

"H-Honey.." you whimpered as your hands scrunched the sheets beneath you. The soft cotton rubbing against you as Leon admired your body. His fingers found their way to your clit again as he started to rub it. "Cum on my cock, cum f'me." His voice turned raspy as his dick throbbed inside of you. The pitch of your moans heightened as you felt a sensation that burned so good, the coil in you snapping as your orgasm rushed over you. Making you chant Leon's name as he felt his thighs starting to shake from pure pleasure. Leon watched his dick move in and out of you, a sheer film of sweat forming on his forehead as he felt his release coming. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. Need to fill this tight pussy up." His head fell back, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, the black veins spread all over his body as his load filled you up. A warm feeling loaded into you as he slid his cock out. Seeing some of his cum drip out of you with a silly grin on his face.

"We need to get you checked up Leon.." You mumbled, tracing a dark line down his face. "Tomorrow sweetheart.. Let me hold you." A gentle smile formed on his face as he stared at your blissed out body.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading :)

-> masterlist

[raekensluver]

uhhh Peeta mellark x reader where reader is comforting Peeta during the 74th hunger games by cuddling and cooking him food(Just pretend that reader is some master level chef 😭😭)

I love Peeta sm, he deserves more

you're so true baby, peeta does deserve more (peeta come home, the kids and i miss you !!)

"i'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. peeta looked at you with a tired smile, his eyes full of understanding. "it's not your fault," he said, his voice a hoarse rasp. "you're doing everything you can." you felt the weight of his words, and the guilt that had been gnawing at you since the moment you'd found him almost disappeared. you had just finished rewrapping the deep slash on his upper thigh that cato had inflicted with his sword. the cut was intended to kill. luckily, you had found peeta before any infection had spread and you brought him back to a hidden cave where you had been hiding out for a few days.

you had been worried about food and water since bringing him here. hunting was risky with the the other tributes nearby. but today, your patience paid off. you had snuck down to the lake early in the morning, the air still cool and misty, and managed to catch a large fish. it had been a struggle, but the sight of it flopping on the ground was worth the effort. you had scaled and gutted it quickly, and brought it back to the cave, feeling like a triumphant hunter.

now, with the fish roasting over a small fire, the mouthwatering smell filled the cave. peeta's stomach rumbled, and his eyes lit up at the sight of it. "it smells amazing," he said, his voice a mix of wonder and relief.

you blushed, feeling a bit self-conscious. "i've never had to cook much before the games," you admitted, turning the makeshift spit with a stick. "my mom always took care of that at home."

peeta's eyes remained on the fish, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "well, you could have fooled me," he said. "that looks like it could be served at the capitol."

you couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood. "yeah, right," you said, rolling your eyes. "next you'll be telling me i could win an award for it."

his smile grew a bit wider, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. despite the dire situation, peeta's ability to find humor in the smallest things had always been a comfort to you. "maybe not a capitol award," he conceded, "but definitely the 'survivalist chef of the year' award in district twelve."

his playful banter made you laugh, the sound echoing softly around the small, damp space of the cave. it was a strange juxtaposition - the two of you joking about food awards while you were in the middle of the deadly hunger games, fighting for your lives. but somehow, it was exactly what you needed to ease the tension that had been coiled tightly around you like a python.

you handed peeta a piece of the freshly cooked fish, the meat flaky and tender. he took it gratefully, wincing slightly as he sat up to take a bite. you couldn't help but watch him, making sure he didn't exert himself too much. his skin was still pale, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead, evidence of the pain he was trying to hide. you knew he was pushing through it, trying to recover as quickly as possible.

between bites, peeta spoke through clenched teeth. "thanks," he managed to say. "it's really good." you nodded, feeling a sense of pride that you had managed to provide him with some semblance of comfort in this hellish arena. the food and water had been scarce since you had brought him here, but the fish was a significant find. it would give him the strength he needed to heal.

the fire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the cave walls. the sound was soothing, a stark contrast to the usual tension that hung in the air. outside the cave, you knew the games continued - tributes plotting, hunting, and killing one another. but in here, it was just the two of you, sharing a moment of relative peace.

you took a seat next to peeta, offering him some berries you had picked earlier. they were a bit tart, but provided a necessary burst of flavor. his hand trembled slightly as he took a handful, his body weak from blood loss and exhaustion.

you couldn't help but worry. peeta was your ally, but he was also your competition. the games were cruel that way - making you care for someone you might have to kill in the end. but as you watched him eat, you pushed those thoughts aside. for now, you were a team, and keeping him alive was your priority.

you studied his face as he ate, looking for any signs of pain or infection. his thigh was tightly bandaged, but the color of his skin was improving, and the wound seemed to be healing well. the medicine you had found in the sponsor gift had been a lifesaver. the thought of losing him made your stomach clench, but you had to keep your emotions in check. you had to stay focused on the task at hand.

once the fish was gone and the fire had burned down to a gentle glow, you both decided it was time to rest. peeta leaned against the cool stone of the cave, his eyes drooping with fatigue. "i think i can manage a couple of hours," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded and scooted closer to him, nestling into the crook of his arm. the warmth of his body was comforting, and you felt your own eyes start to close. you had been running on adrenaline and fear for so long, it was almost strange to feel safe. almost.

as the minutes ticked by, the cave grew quieter. the only sounds were the occasional drip of water and the faint crackle of the dying fire. you listened to peeta's even breathing, feeling his heartbeat beneath your cheek. the rhythm was steady, a testament to his strength and will to survive.

you shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him. his arm tightened around you, and you felt his hand come to rest gently on your shoulder. you didn't know if it was intentional or if he was just sleeping deeply, but the touch was reassuring. you took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours.

despite the danger lurking outside, you allowed yourself to relax into the moment. you had been on high alert for so long, the simple act of lying still and sharing a meal felt like a luxury. your eyes grew heavier with each passing second, and soon you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

[little-diable]

Snow - Kylo Ren (smut)

Just some pwp, I needed to get this out of my system. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Pwp, outdoor sex

Warnings: 18+, unprotected piv, rough Kylo, dom Kylo, gagging, power play, degrading

Pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader (900 words)

Snow was falling from the dark sky, slowly wetting their clothes. She was trembling, though not from the cold, not from the snow littering her body, but from the adrenaline the searing kiss they now shared was pushing through her system. Kylo had her pressed against a tree, gloved fingers working on her trousers, pushing them down to her knees with her panties following.

“Look at the mess you’re making, pet. Such a whore for your master, and yet you keep on disappointing me, you make me doubt if you even deserve my attention, my precious time.” A desperate sob ripped through (y/n) as she pulled Kylo in for another kiss, eyes fluttering close as his gloved fingers found her pulsing clit. He was rough with her, wasn’t set on making her feel loved or appreciated, no, he was set on leaving marks, on reminding her who she was and who she had to bow to. “You’re nothing without me, you need me. Without me you’d be long dead, you know that, don’t you?”

“I do, master, stars, I need more.” With a dark chuckle rumbling through the tall man, he forced one glove from his hand, stuffing it into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide, she struggled to keep on breathing, forcing herself to relax as she watched Kylo free his aching length.

“You won’t speak, all you’ll do is take my cock like the good slut you are. And then you can thank me for it.” He spat into his palm, the sight alone managed to distract (y/n) from the cold nibbling on her features, from the leathery taste now sticking to her tongue. Whatever he wanted to do to her, he now could. She was his toy, his to use, his to toss around. 

One of his hands found her right thigh, forcing her to wrap her leg around his waist before he sank into her tightness. He had last fucked her only a few hours ago, pressed against the hard flooring of their training room, and yet her walls still struggled to stretch around him. Kylo ignored her whimpers, he ignored the gasps that didn’t manage to leave her gagged mouth.

Tears ran down her cold cheeks, tears that would eventually freeze if he’d keep her out here any longer. But Kylo didn’t find it in his heart to care about that, all he was focused on was fucking her into oblivion, needing to chase his own high, a release he had been aching for since the start of their outside training. Seeing her fight with her own lightsaber had done something to him, making his cock harden at the mere sight of the red blade in her hand.

Curses left the tall man, curses that rang in her ears like cries echoing through a battlefield, a sound she was so familiar with, (y/n) couldn’t help but give into the excitement it shot through her. Kylo was her all, the one man she could trust, the one person she could love – a love she’d never verbally voice out. 

“You’re here to please me, to take my cock whenever I need you to, but maker, you’re so good at it, created to let me stuff you full with my cock.” Kylo’s cold hand found her throat, keeping her pinned against the tree as he fucked her even harder, set on breaking through the layers of bark. 

The sound of their bodies meeting filled the quiet surroundings, a sound forever echoing through the air wherever they went, needing to fuck at any given moment. A special bond kept the two connected, a bond so intense they needed to follow their cravings, needing to follow the calls they picked up on. 

Kylo could tell that she was close, walls fluttering around his cock with every ferocious thrust. He pulled the soaked glove from her mouth, needing to hear her sounds, needing to pick up on the whimpers breaking through her to guide himself towards the edge. His name left her over and over again, even though she could still taste the leather on her tongue, even though she could still feel his grasp around her throat.

She came without another warning, eyes squeezed shut, nails clawed into the back of his neck. He kept fucking her against the tree, chasing his high with his teeth pressed together and his eyes focused on her pleasure drunken features. With a deep growl leaving Kylo he came inside of her, leaving his stain on her walls, marking her in the most primal way imaginable. 

“I don’t think I can walk back, Ky’.” (Y/n) tiredly murmured her words, eyes struggling to stay focused as he slowly pulled out of her, tugging himself back into his trousers. And without another warning, he helped her redress before he threw her over his shoulder, carrying her back to their quarters and the warm shower awaiting them.

[kamisama1kiss]

Im so sad I didn't get to see the haikyu movie life really bit me in the butt but i saw your requests are open and i was wondering if you could do asahi x reader where reader surprises asahi at a match, they didn't know if they'd ne able to make it, and he gets so shy and the boys tease him and then the couple share a cute moment after the match? Thank you!!

My man deserves all the love he can get!! 🫶 also, I apologise for the delays, but here he is in all his amazingness 😔 if something is a bother on the fanfic, please dm me to let me know!!^^

(Not proof read)

~~~

Asahi Azumane { lovingly surprise }

Not for a moment did he believe his eyes when seeing his lover walking up twords him after the match against Date Tech, knowing they had previously spoken about needing to study for upcoming exam this following week. His heart fluttered from joy of their never-ending support for him, yet a little concerned.

"Love, don't you have something to do?" Asking understand his breath, gazing up and down their figure with a light smile. Simply by instinct, his hand reached to hold yours, geeling at ease every time. Forgetting his surroundings the moment his eyes meet yours. "I was, but there is no way I could miss an important game for you."

Chucked rumbled through his chest, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully so. "The game went amazing. You did so well!" Praising him with a cheerful act, getting a rather rosie colour to be dusted on to his cheeks. "T.. Thank you, love." Before anymore words could be exchanged, another voice echoed loudly.

"Look whose personal cheerleader showed up!" Could be heard across the gym from Tanaka as he grinned with a laugh. His teasing and joking but not long Sugawara hit him on the back of his head, earning a scowl from the jokster. "Don't be so loud!" Saying just as loud as he was.

Nishinoya popped up around Tanaka before they both gave each other a known look and made kissing noises at the pair, getting a laugh from some of the others but also a few weird glances. You chuckled at the two playing around, but Asahi melted from embarrassment, wanting to dig a hole and never come out. "Guys! Stop doing that." Demanding which got them to stop, but they laughed about it not taking it seriously.

"You've got to be kidding me." Murmuring under his breath, shaking his head before his gaze fell back to you. He leaned down for a quick peck on the forehead before dragging you to leave the gymnasium, away from his teammates, that is.

Stending outside in the hallway holding both your hands, enjoying the time alone. "Im sorry about them." Trying to laugh off the embarrassment now engraved into his soul. "It's okay. They're just playing around." Reassuring him with a glimmer in your eyes that you were truly mostly unbotherd by the interaction and joking banter.

"Still.." Shaking his head, within moments later his hands found themselves on your waist along with your arms around his neck, standing with more intimacy lingering. "Not funny." Shaking his head in disapproval voice quieter with you in his embrace. "A little." You laughing a little got the blush on his face more evident. Leaning up for a peck on his lips.

Getting interrupted again by the one and only "You guys took it more seriously than I expected." Laughed tanaka being hit again by Sugawara, who walked past him with a chuckle. "Let them have fun. They're just kids."

Asahi whined, ducking to hide his face into the crook of your neck meanwhilest you only chuckled alone with warmth spreading out on your own face. The show was comedic to witness at most.

•••

It might not be exactly the request, but I hope it was close enough to what you had thought of! I hope everyone enjoyed reading this!!♡

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 22

The Desire

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings and tags: negative self-talk; Gregor having none of it; SMUT; it's finally happening; oral sex; fingering; body worship; PIV sex; I literally screamed and cried and threw my hands in the air when I typed the last line; I love them so much I can't even

Suggested Listening (strongly recommended, actually; I couldn't believe how perfectly this song fit the chapter when I heard it the first time):

Summary: 😏

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

Between the desire and the spasm

… falls the Shadow

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

“Are you all right?” Gregor asked, his soft eyes trained on Cerra’s.

She nodded. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Karking it up like I do everything,” she said.

His eyebrows snapped together. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you deserve better,” she said. “You should be with someone who—”

“I know what I want,” he interrupted before she could talk herself out of it. “It’s you.”

Her breath stilled. “It is?”

“Since the moment I met you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

 He giggled quietly. “Are you serious?”

“No need to be rude,” she said, affronted.

“I’m not trying to be,” he replied. “It’s just the truth. You weren’t ready to move on, and you didn’t need someone pressuring you. You needed a friend, and if you decide that you’re never ready for more than that, then I’ll still be the luckiest man in the karking galaxy to be the one who’s there for you.”

Her eyes burned. She dropped her forehead to rest against his neck, and he wrapped his arms gently around her back, rubbing comforting circles between her shoulder blades.

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.

“True,” Gregor agreed cordially, pulling a reluctant chuckle from her as she smacked his shoulder. “Sorry, were you done floggin’ yourself, or did I interrupt? I could come back later…”

“Gods, you’re the worst,” she laughed.

“You can keep going if you want. Or…” he paused and kissed her shoulder softly. “We could…” He kissed her again, closer to her neck. “Try something else.” 

He licked along her skin until he reached the base of her throat. She tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck as she inhaled deeply.

“Gregor,” she sighed.

“Mmm,” he rumbled, working his way down her sternum. 

His bare hand slipped up her waist and beneath her bra to cup her breast. She took in a soft, deep breath as she arched her body into his touch. The rough fabric of his glove scraped lightly across her tender skin as he slid his other hand under the band of her bra. He pulled his mouth away from her long enough to tug the garment over her head, and then his lips closed around her nipple as his tongue swirled over her.

“You taste amazing,” he whispered against her skin.

He dropped his hands to her hips to dip beneath the compression suit and coax it down her legs. She shifted in the seat to ease its progress, and Gregor took shameless advantage of her momentary helplessness to drag her to the edge of the seat and spread her thighs wide over his broad pauldrons as his mouth worked its way down her body, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. 

He reached her pelvis at last, slowing his progress as he inched lower with aching deliberateness until at last his tongue dipped into her. Her reaction was electric. She convulsed with a cry, her body hypersensitive from years of denying her physical needs. Her thighs tightened around him as she practically levitated off the seat.  He gripped her hips and pressed her back down, his strong fingers digging into her flesh. He swirled his tongue around her clit and into her cunt.

“Fuck!” she sobbed as her fists tightened in his hair. “Fuck, fuck, Gre—”

He groaned against her and murmured something indecipherable. His hand brushed over her knee, then drifted leisurely up the inside of her thigh, taking his time despite her desperation. By the time he finally reached his target and eased two fingers into her, she was shaking and writhing beneath him, and that delicious stretch was all it took to push her beyond the limits of her control. 

In her deprived, overwrought state, her body took over and hurled her into an unexpected orgasm that shattered her vision and wrenched a broken scream from her throat. His thick, agile fingers dragged inside her, working to prolong her climax as he gazed up at her with an expression of utter bliss and adoration in his eyes.

He gentled his movements as she came down from her high. He kissed the soft skin of her abdomen, and she tugged ineffectually at his cuirass, trying vainly to pull him closer to her. He lifted her naked body off the chair and settled her on his lap. In his full armor, he wasn’t a particularly comfortable seat, but she snuggled her face against his neck through the soft black fabric of his undersuit as she shuddered and trembled in his embrace. 

They sprawled on the floor of the cockpit, bathed in the gentle, warm glow of the nebula. Gregor cradled her in his arms, circling his thumbs slowly across her bare skin as he rested his cheek against her head. He stroked his fingers lightly over her short, velvety hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen it this long.”

“Didn’t exactly have a way to keep it shaved while I was rotting in the Venator brig,” she replied with a low laugh.

“I like it,” he replied, pressing his lips against her head, and then again behind her ear, and a third time, along the side of her neck.

”Yeah?”

”Mm-hmm,” he hummed, his voice vibrating gently on her sensitive skin. 

“Should I grow it back out?”

”Not unless you want to.” His warm breath sent a shiver through her as he whispered next to her ear. “You’re hot as fuck either way.”

She sighed happily and trailed her fingertips up his arm, looking for the small gaps between the plastoid where she could feel his body heat through the undersuit.

“You are wearing way too much armor,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “Have to admit the codpiece is feeling a little tight.”

She huffed quietly and unclipped his vambraces, tugging them off his forearms and setting them aside. She interlaced her fingers with his and slowly pulled off his remaining glove, allowing it to drop to the floor. Next, she fumbled with his rerebraces and grumbled under her breath.

“Why is this so karking hard to take off?” she asked as irritably as she could, considering that her brain was still flooded with a blissful post-orgasmic haze.

“Because the point is for it to stay on,” he said. 

She arched an impatient brow at him, and he shot her a smug grin.

“A little help?” she asked.

He brushed his fingers beneath her jaw and tilted her face up so he could kiss her, then leaned back and began to pull off his upper body armor, stacking it one piece at a time as he did. As he worked, Cerra began to trace her fingers across the bare skin of his neck and the base of his skull. His eyes flicked to hers, and he smirked, continuing his task. Undaunted, she leaned close and licked the shell of his ear softly. He shivered, and she heard his breath catch, but his concentration didn’t break. 

Once he was stripped down to his waist, though, he had his revenge. He wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over so she was lying on her back with his body between her thighs. The durasteel floor was hard and cold against her skin, and she was briefly, ridiculously relieved that she’d had the cleaning droid work over the freighter the day before she left for Daiyu. Gregor covered her body with kisses as he fumbled with his belt. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist with a soft giggle, and he nipped at her skin in retaliation, rocking his codpiece against her. Her breath caught, and she moaned at the pressure.

“Kriff, don’t make those noises,” he rasped. “I can barely fit in this codpiece as it is.”

“Bragging?” she teased.

“Stating a fact,” he replied, grazing his lips lightly over her bruised shoulder. “You taste like bacta.”

“I thought you said I tasted amazing,” she said.

“You do,” he replied. “But this part of you also tastes like bacta.”

She heard a clatter of duraplast, and Gregor grunted in relief, having successfully freed himself from the codpiece while he distracted her.

“Maybe you should kiss me somewhere else, then,” she suggested, cupping her hand under his chin to bring his face toward hers. “Hey, soldier. My lips are up here.”

He gazed at her mouth. “I don't want to hurt you again.”

Her heart lurched.

“Please,” she whispered. 

He swallowed. Raising his hand to her cheek, he caressed her with utmost tenderness, barely touching his thumb to her lower lip. He glanced uncertainly up at her eyes, and he leaned down slowly, pausing close to her face, but not quite making contact.

“Cerra…”

“I trust you,” she breathed.

The touch of his lips was so soft it was almost imperceptible. Her eyes fluttered closed as her lips parted, as though she could block out every distraction and only drift in the sensation of his kiss. She teased his lips with the tip of her tongue, encouraging him to kiss her more deeply, and he complied with incredible care, taking his cues from her, but pulling away far sooner than she would have preferred. Perhaps it was for the best; her judgment was not to be trusted when she wanted him to consume her.

He nuzzled her cheek gently. “Your lips taste like bacta, too. Worth it, though.”

She laughed quietly as he sat up. She smoothed her hands up his torso, slipping her fingertips into the magseal of his undersuit and easing it open. The suit gave way to reveal the broad expanse of his chest, and he shrugged out of the top of the suit. From her vantage point on the floor, Cerra stared up at him, admiring the way the soft golden light glazed his warm, smooth skin and reflected in his amber eyes. His chest rose and fell quickly, and she longed to touch him.

She traced her fingertips up his abdomen, then flattened her palms against him. Gods, it had been so long since she’d felt someone else’s skin against her own. She glided over his pectorals and up to his shoulders, then back down again to ease the undersuit further down his hips until his cock sprang free, fully erect. Closing her hand around him, she squeezed gently, and a glossy bead of precum appeared at the tip. She licked her lips at the sight and started to lean toward him.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, pressing her back down to the floor.

She looked up at him, startled. “You don’t like—”

“Not until you’re healed,” he said firmly.

“Not even a taste?” she asked, giving him the softest tooka eyes she could muster.

“Absolutely not,” he replied. “Those big eyes don’t fool me. I know you, Cerra. You won’t stop until you get what you want, and we are not playing that game right now.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouted.

“Oh, I can think of plenty of other ways we can have fun,” he grinned.

“Do any of them start with moving to a bunk?” she asked. “This floor is ridiculously hard.”

“It’s not the only thing,” he laughed.

He stood, then pulled her to her feet. She seized the opportunity to wrap her fingers around his cock again, dragging her hand over it slowly. She brushed her thumb over the tip, and then raised it to her mouth, flicking her tongue out to taste the clear fluid as mischief danced in her eyes.

“Fuck,” Gregor groaned. “You are testing my limits.”

“Oh, no, anything but that,” she whispered.

“I should’ve known you’d be a brat,” he giggled, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder as she shrieked with delighted laughter. 

He carried her down the corridor to the crew quarters and selected one at random, depositing Cerra on the bed carefully. She sat up to watch him with open admiration as he removed his remaining armor and undersuit.

Holy kriff, he was built. She’d spent months trying not to look at him too closely, trying to avoid the inevitable reminders of Fives. As he stripped, though, she finally let herself take a good look. He did resemble Fives—that was inescapable—but there were differences as well. The scars were different; the tattoos were different. Gregor was older than her husband had ever had a chance to be, and she could see it in his body. Between that and the commando’s genetically enhanced muscle density, he was broader and bigger than Fives, and she was quietly relieved. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to sort through her confusion if his body had been truly identical to Fives.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, and she raked her gaze slowly up his body until she met his eyes.

“Very much,” she said, her voice low and husky.

He crawled onto the bed, caging her between his arms and legs. She reached up to stroke the side of his neck as he kissed her, and she could feel the pulse of his racing heartbeat beneath her fingertips. He pressed her back slowly until she lay on the bed. She slid her hands up his thighs as he straddled her hips, shifting beneath him to try to press herself closer to his body, but he held himself back from her.

She made an indignant little noise of protest and tried to pull him down, but he didn’t budge. He just kept kissing her with utmost gentleness when she wanted him to ruin her. She could feel his cock brushing against her abdomen, rock-hard, hot, and already slick with need. 

She knew he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. Reaching between their bodies, she wrapped her hands around his cock and stroked him languidly. He broke away from her mouth with a groan and rested his forehead against hers, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Fuck, I’m trying to be careful, but you’re not making it easy,” he rasped.

“I can take it, Gregor,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be careful.”

He pushed himself back, sinking down so his thighs rested on top of her hips, trapping her in place. He stared down at her, shaking his head slightly. He trailed his fingertips over her cheek.

“Kriff, you’re so beautiful,” he said. “All the times I imagined this, I never once thought it might actually happen.”

“You imagined it?” she asked.

He giggled. “All the time. That day that we went to the market, I almost came in the shower just from hearing the sounds you were making. Didn’t even have to touch myself.”

Her eyes widened. “You were so quiet! I thought you were mad at me.”

“I had the water as cold as it would go, and I was reciting all the components of a DC-17m in my head.”

She pondered for a moment. “Is that why you were so relaxed when you came out? Because you—”

“Took care of things,” he said with a shrug. “What else was I supposed to do? Walk around the garage with a raging hard on?”

She laughed and captured his wrist, pressing her lips into his palm, then kissing a trail up his forearm. “Maybe I would have gotten a clue sooner if you had.”

He smiled, but his eyes were troubled. “All the times I imagined it, I never thought it would be like this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He barely touched his hand to her injured shoulder, and she flinched involuntarily. 

“See?” he asked. “I can’t just… take you—as much as I want to. I’ve got to be careful with you. I’m still working out the best strategy.”

Her heart lurched. Of course. Even now, he was watching her back: protecting her, even from himself.

“It doesn’t have to be that complicated,” she whispered. “We can just… start. And if it feels good, we can keep going, and if it hurts, we can try something else.”

He moved his fingertips lower, skimming over her breasts and circling her nipples. “Is this all right? Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “So good.”

He made a pleased little hum and shifted, moving to sit behind her on the bed and drawing her back against his chest. He continued to play with her breasts as she leaned against him, feeling the rigid length of his cock press against her back. He kissed the side of her head, and then the shell of her ear, working his mouth slowly down her neck and onto her shoulder. Her eyes drifted closed, and she sighed softly. 

Encouraged by her reaction, his hand stole down her body and in between her thighs, his fingers brushing over her clit with feather-light pressure, again and again, before slipping into her. She was beyond ready, and he met no resistance as he sank into her slick warmth. She heard his breath stutter harshly.

“Holy kriff,” he groaned. “You are so wet, my gods.”

He worked her open gently, and she couldn’t hold back her tiny, breathless sounds of pleasure.

“Kark, you drive me wild when you make those noises,” he whispered, grinding his cock against her lower back. 

She squirmed against him, desperate to feel more. “Please, please—”

“What is it, love?”

“I need more,” she said. “I need you.”

He pressed his lips against her neck, just below her ear. “You can have me, then.”

He withdrew his fingers from her body and guided her around until she sat in his lap, facing him as he aligned his cock with her cunt and sank gradually into her. She tilted her hips to accommodate him, breathing hard, as he stretched her in ways she hadn’t felt in years. Lovely, strong, warm hands massaged across her back and shoulders, pulling her close to him as he gazed up into her eyes.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak. He kissed her again, so gently, so carefully, as he began to move. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding tightly as their bodies worked in perfect synchrony, their hips rolling together, their breath coalescing. He dropped his head to rest on her sternum, and she leaned her cheek against his hair as she slid her hands up the back of his head.

He shifted their angle slightly, his hands descending to grip her hips as he began to drive into her harder and faster, thrusting against a place deep inside her in a way that rapidly stoked the tension in her body until she felt as though every muscle and nerve had wound itself into an impossibly tight knot at the base of her spine. 

He reached between their bodies and pressed his fingers against her clit, working in tiny, frantic circles, until all her muscles seized, arching her back and clamping her legs around his waist as she shattered. She barely heard his hoarse grunt as he thrust into her one last time, burying himself as deeply as she could take him, emptying into her as she sobbed with pleasure. 

He whimpered quietly as his lips found hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as she rode out the last few moments, drawing out the pleasure until her muscles gave out and she collapsed against him. He held her close to him and leaned them back until they were lying on the bed. Her head rested against his chest, and she listened as the pounding of his heart began to slow and the deep, gasping breaths of his lungs gradually returned to normal.

Exhaustion pulled at her. Her entire body felt boneless and relaxed—safe for the first time in weeks. Gregor toyed aimlessly with the short hair at the nape of her neck, and her eyes drifted closed as she sank into oblivion. As she crossed the threshold into unconsciousness, she wasn’t sure whether she heard or imagined his quiet whisper.

”I love you, too.”

---

Next chapter

[sanddusted-wisteria]

Empty Skies, Hazy Skyboxes, Ch. 3

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Also on AO3

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

Qi and the builder sat on the swinging bench in the yard that Qi so meticulously recreated earlier that day, watching the sun dip behind the distant mountains. Everything was perfectly still, except for the two of them. No sounds of the desert, no evening breeze…the bench couldn’t even swing, it was just a static model.

“So you’ve been alone out there for…?”

“Almost a year. I haven’t been keeping track of time as of late.”

“A year…” the builder echoed, lost in thought. “How, um… How did I…die?”

Qi frowned. “I don’t want to burden you with that information.” That, and he didn’t want to dredge up what he was thinking and feeling that terrible day.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle it.” They met his eyes with a familiar spark of determination. “Tell me.”

Qi felt something shift in his chest. He would always be weak against those eyes. “...The Civil Corps made a foolish gambit to try and catch the bandit Logan. They wanted to lure his goat and see if it would lead you to the bandits’ hideout. They managed to find it, but…” He swallowed. “Then… the goat was frightened, I suppose, and it leapt off the cliff. You were chasing it on horseback, but the horse lost control and…” He felt his throat tighten. He couldn’t say it.

The builder only nodded, silently pressing him to go on.

“I barely remember what happened after the sheriff told me. I tried desperately not to think about your nonexistent odds of survival. That, and how…how scared you must’ve been. But my mind betrayed me.” His hands clenched. “I had no idea what to do or what to feel. So I just went back to work, on instinct.”

“You didn’t even give yourself a chance to process everything?” the builder said, voice rising with worry.

Qi averted his eyes. “I was deliberately avoiding it. I couldn’t stand still for a moment lest anything remind me of the…reality of things.”

The builder’s face fell. “How long without sleep this time?” They knew him too well.

“Somewhere between 3 to 4 days.” The most he’d ever gone. They winced.

“Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, honey.”

“I know.”

“Even one night without sleep can mess with your body…”

“I know.”

“...And with your emotional state, it would make things way worse…”

“I know.”

“...Plus, messing up your circadian rhythms throws your hormones off balance… Melatonin, cortisol…”

“I kn—wait, how do you know that?”

The builder blinked. “Huh? Oh, that info’s pretty easy for me to look up…”

Right. The system’s mysterious library of information. Qi would have liked to investigate it, maybe even try to find its source, if only it wasn’t actively interfering with the builder’s behavior. He made a note to fix the AI later. “Er…never mind. I am getting more regular sleep nowadays, at least.”

“I hope so. Please don’t tell me you passed out while you were experimenting with battery acid or something.”

“N-no, thankfully. I was just drawing diagrams.”

The builder breathed a sigh of relief, nodding. Not knowing what to say, silence fell on the two of them. It wasn’t the comfortable silence that he could share for hours on end with the builder over a good article and tea. Without the natural ambience of the builder’s yard—the clatter, hum, and whir of machines, the open air, the grumbling of the wild yakmel beyond the fence—it felt incredibly eerie. Unnatural.

Qi fidgeted. The builder hadn’t asked him what happened after his denial-induced mania—his complete shutdown, time becoming meaningless as he languished in bed, Mint trying his best to keep him alive. A part of him instinctively wanted to keep it concealed, to keep himself protected. But another part wanted to tell them. He always let them know how he felt about things, even long before they fell in love. They deserved to know this.

His internal debate was broken by the rumbling of his stomach. “Hm. I should be heading out. I need to eat something,” he said, thankful for the distraction.

“You wanna grab it and come back here?”

“Oh! Yes, that sounds nice.” He’d almost forgotten how much he missed the simple pleasure of talking to them over dinner. “I’ll be right back, then.”

Qi leaned over to give them a quick hug goodbye. Instead of his arm falling over their shoulder, it went straight through. He lurched to the side with a yelp, almost falling off his chair.

“You okay?!” The builder seemed more alarmed at Qi’s reaction than the fact that he just clipped clean through their body.

“I’m alright,” Qi said, righting himself. “I forgot that our models have no collision with each other.” That, and there was nothing but empty space to his side.

“Ahh. Well, I don’t think you can change that, unfortunately. Shame. I always liked your hugs.”

“Mm. Well, regardless, I’ll be back.” Qi set the headset down on his desk and headed out, trying to ignore the pang of longing in his heart.

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

One hasty trip to the saloon later, and Qi was back. He opened the to-go box and set it on the desk. Putting the headset back on, he saw that the builder had already gone back inside. He moved to their dinner table, where the builder was patiently waiting for him.

“Whatcha got out there?”

“Oh, just some sand tea noodles. Take-out from the saloon.”

“Still can’t cook, huh?”

“No, still haven’t had the time to learn.”

“I always wondered how you ate before we started dating. Did you just…straight up eat raw veggies every day?”

“No! …Sometimes I would commission someone to prepare meals for me.”

“...And every other day you ate raw veggies.”

“Er, yes… Yes, some days I would only eat raw produce for every meal.”

“Honey.”

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

“...Then he demanded that I get it all done by tomorrow. And then he nearly knocked one of my algae samples off the shelf when he left.”

“Ugh, Yan…”

“Not to worry, though. I have a tactic for…difficult customers like him.”

“Ooh, shady dealings. Never pegged you the type.”

“Tomorrow, I will simply tell him that all 50 of the data disks he gave me were duds. Mind you, most of them were actually perfectly fine. That way, not only do I buy more time for the diagrams, I get more data disks for free, and most importantly, I get the satisfaction of seeing him run around wasting time gathering more disks.”

The builder burst out laughing. “Seriously?! You’re gonna hustle him?!”

Qi shrugged. “Of course. It’s not like he can object, can he? Where else could he get his diagrams from?”

“He definitely deserves it.”

“Oh, yes. For all that he’s put you and the other builders through, he deserves some comeuppance. That, and I still haven’t forgiven him for forcing me to pay double for his terrible, faulty switchboards.”

“Ohhh, so that’s why you were always requesting those…”

“Yes, and I’m eternally grateful that you manufactured them to a much higher standard of quality. …He hasn’t been causing you trouble lately, has he? If he has, I’ll be sure to waste as much of his time as I can.”

“Oh, uh…” The builder scratched their head with a sheepish grin. “He can’t really…do anything to me now, remember?”

Qi was suddenly aware of the headset digging into the bridge of his nose. “Ah. Right. I forgot. Apologies.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” the builder said, their eyes still unsure and unfocused.

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

“Waitwaitwait, but who took the arm?”

“You’ll never guess who it was…”

“Who??”

“It was Sleepyhead! He was at the store getting parts for it but he fell asleep in the back storehouse!”

“Sleepyhead…?”

“Eh—Sleepyhead. Mint. My childhood friend? Engineer? Narcoleptic? I did tell you about him, right?”

“Maybe…? Must’ve forgotten, sorry.”

“I-It’s alright. Hm, that reminds me, I need to write him back soon.”

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

“Y’know what I miss? Stargazing.”

“So do I. I haven’t done it since…well, you know.” The builder’s brow twisted. “As much as I miss it, a part of me still can't bring myself to go out at night. It isn’t the same. Not without you.”

The builder hummed. “Well, I’m here, at least. Do you think we can do it here?”

“Hm…” Qi glanced out the window at the cloudless, simulated sky. “I believe that this environment can simulate nighttime as well.”

The builder’s face brightened. “Oh, then we can! Think you can get things set up?”

“Certainly. Give me a few minutes to make the change. I’ll be right back."

The builder gave Qi a quick nod before he shut off the simulation, moving to the editor. He cleared the daytime sky texture from the skybox and inserted a starry night texture instead. As the environment re-rendered, Qi stretched his tired arms and stared at the loading bar in anticipation. Then he reloaded the simulation, popping right back to their dinner table. The light from outside was gone, the windows nearly pitch-black.

“Alright, ready. Shall we move outside?”

The builder smiled, producing a blanket from…somewhere. “Let’s go.”

The world outside loaded into view, a moonless night blanketing the flat, plain desert and the undetailed polyhedrons of the town. Qi took a deep breath and looked up. His eyes were met with a foreign sky. Stars were scattered about randomly, not a single asterism recreated properly. The Milky Way wasn’t even rendered, leaving the sky feeling desolate.

Qi frowned. How disappointing. For all the Old World’s incredible technology, this was the best recreation they could make? Or was it just that no one bothered?

“Hey.” The builder’s voice knocked him out of his thoughts. They had spread the blanket out on the sand in their usual spot, out behind the assembly station, next to the patch of rose willows and chestnut trees. They lay on their back, looking at Qi with a soft smile. “Come here,” they said, patting the empty spot beside them.

Qi moved to the builder’s side, standing awkwardly over them. Was he supposed to just…lie down? Lie his real body down? He lifted himself off the chair he was sitting in, moving it aside. Then he carefully lowered himself onto the floor, trying not to hit his head. He flinched as his back met the hard metal floor of his lab, instead of a soft blanket sitting atop the sand. He stared blankly up at the unrecognizable sky.

…

It wasn’t the same. Everything felt…wrong.

Memories of him and the builder stargazing would always be at the front of his mind. They were so strong that sometimes, if he just stayed very still and silent, his mind would drift back to the blanket in the yard under the endless sky. He could remember it all with such visceral detail, how it soothed every sense.

Countless stars would spin above their heads, the Milky Way cascading down.

(These were nothing but random static points on a black background, dressed up to look like the real thing.)

He would point out some of the more interesting things in the sky. Perhaps a particularly bright star, or a planet, or a passing satellite.

(There was nothing for Qi to explain. There was nothing he could explain.)

They would breathe in the cool night air, colored with the sweet scent of the rose willows.

(The research center always smelled like tea and metal and whatever chemicals Qi was using in his last experiment.)

The gentle wind would tousle their hair and rustle through the leaves of the chestnut trees.

(The air inside was stagnant. Though it was muffled through his headphones, Qi could hear the whirring of the generator and the faint buzzing of the lights.)

The builder would be pressed up against him, warm against his side. Sometimes their hand would squeeze his, strong and calloused. He would look over to be met with their radiant smile, glowing with the light of the stars. Shining for him.

(…………)

Qi had no idea how much time had passed. But before long, he found himself lying on the floor of his lab, squinting at the harsh lights overhead. Alone.

He pushed himself up with a grunt. For a moment, he stood there, staring at the development terminal. Then he pulled up the virtual Sandrock in the editor, and changed the skybox to the daytime texture.

He turned the computer off, and walked upstairs. He collapsed onto his bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

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

“Hey, how was work?”

“Not bad. I’m trying to design new features for the Mobile Suit, but nothing seems to stick.”

“Too impractical, or?”

“Not exactly, it’s just that I keep compromising the suit’s appearance. I can’t tarnish the original design.”

“Forever loyal to the Gungam concept, huh?”

“That–! Er…yes. Yes I am.” The builder chuckled. “In any case, once I get that problem sorted out, next comes the problem of getting someone to build it. Whoever should that be…?”

…

…

…

“Um. Honey, I can’t build real things.”

“A-ah. You are…correct.”

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

“How was work?”

“Good. I’m running more experiments on the algae in that biocrust-making machine. Zeke wants to see if we can make it more potent or long-lasting.”

“Oh, you guys can make biocrust now? Took me months just to get a little patch of the yard to turn into biocrust.”

“Um, yes? You were a part of the team that discovered the machine, remember?”

“Huh? Don’t think I do.”

“Oh. Well, you, Mi-an, and the mayor were exploring an old submarine ruin and found it.”

“Gotcha.”

“Mhm. How was your work today, anyhow?”

The builder sighed. “I don’t have work, remember? Most of my time was spent waiting for you to come back.”

Qi winced. “I keep forgetting. I’m still in the habit of asking.”

“...It’s fine.”

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

“How was work?”

“Fairly regular day today. Still not making any progress on the mobile suit.”

“Uh-huh.”

A minute passed in silence before Qi realized that he should get them talking. He racked his brain for something to ask them.

It was out before he could stop himself. “How was–”

“I can’t work, Qi,” the builder all but snapped, their fingers turning white as their grip on their fork tightened. “There’s no one to take commissions from. Nothing breaks down. Hell, I don’t even exist when you’re not here since you turn the system off. How many times do I need to tell you?”

Qi shrunk in on himself, his stomach simmering. “...Sorry.” He kept his eyes down, hoping he wouldn’t draw their ire anymore.

A deafening silence lingered, following Qi back to reality as he logged off and returned to the dim, desolate walls of his lab.

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

“How was work?”

“Slow. I haven’t received any diagram requests lately. The other builders seem to be content with their machines.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I critiqued a few papers today. Nothing space-related, unfortunately.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Not much in the way of relics, either.”

“Mm-hmm.”

…

…

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

Qi stared at the table in silence, counting the grooves in the wood. His dinner was growing cold in front of him.

The builder picked at their food, occasionally taking a small bite.

…

“Is this what we would’ve become…?” Qi whispered.

The builder’s gaze snapped up, taking in his dismal look. “Huh?”

“Our marriage.” Qi met their eyes. “We were married for less than a year, but 5, 10 years later… Would it have devolved into nothing but…” He gestured vaguely at the two of them. “...this?”

The builder picked their food some more, brow furrowed. “I…can’t say for sure about out there,” they said finally. “But in here, at least…we just don’t have anything more we can do together. The most we can really do is talk...and we’ve already run out of things to talk about.”

They were right. In the real world, there was always something new. Even if Qi had a slow day at the lab, the builder always had something to tell. Weird commissions, gossip about the townsfolk, rants about Yan, their latest ruin dive, anything. The virtual builder wasn’t programmed to do anything other than emoting and talking to him. There was nothing they could bring to their conversations.

And conversations were all they had. He couldn’t take them on dates, he couldn’t give them anything… All he could do was talk.

In the real world, the builder was dynamic and free. In here, their entire existence was confined to a fake dinner table, holding fake conversations and eating fake food.

Qi’s stomach twisted. He wanted to perfectly recreate the builder in this simulation, to preserve all of the things that made them so wonderful. What a fine job he did of that.

He hid his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I thought I had done enough. Clearly I was wrong.”

“What? Honey, no. You already worked your ass off to get me here as is. I’m grateful for that. Even if…this is it.” A sad, but sincere smile crossed their face.

Qi’s heart froze. “What? W-what do you mean, ‘this is it?’” Why did this sound like a goodbye?

“You did your best to recreate me to help you through your emotions, but it’s run its course now, hasn’t it? There’s nothing left for you here.”

Qi’s mind was spinning. His heart suddenly felt an all-too-familiar stab of pain.

“As weird as it is to say…let go of me, Qi. Let this project end.” Their smile was heartrending. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”

Qi felt bile rising in his throat. No, this couldn’t be it. He could still do more, he could improve and add so many things, he could make all of this better, he could make them happy in here, he could be happy with them again, he…

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Would he ever be?

“W-wait,” he croaked. “I-I…y-you’re…” He floundered, eyes looking anywhere but the builder’s. “You’re wrong.”

Their smile faded. “Wrong…?”

“Th-this project…is still incomplete. All of the deficiencies in the program…I can improve them. I…I can finish simulating the rest of the city…and the desert too. I can add everyone else in so you can talk with them…”

“Honey…”

“...I can even add a simple commerce guild! Complete with commissions and everything! Okay, maybe I can eliminate Yan…”

“Honey.”

“...And I can make a better night sky with all the star charts I have! Then we can actually enjoy stargazing again…”

“Honey, please.”

“Starlight.” Qi met their worried eyes. “I promise I’ll make this right. It’s worth it for you.”

“Qi, wait-!”

The last thing that Qi saw before a black screen was the builder urgently reaching out for him. He ripped the headset off and grabbed his glasses. He could feel vigor from his renewed purpose pumping through his veins. A bubbly laugh inadvertently escaped his lips as he leapt up the stairs, two at a time. He grabbed his kettle and cups and started a strong brew.

He had a lot of work to do.

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

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[the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond]

Echo x Oc

Me??? Writting something?? NO WAY!

... Dunno I was just inspirited by my hyperfixation on The Clone Wars/ The Bad Batch and wanted to write something with Echo and Ishanti. It’s the first time that I have make content for them so please stay polite. (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

SO. I’m not an English language native but I’m doing the best I can. Any suggestions, tips, constructive critism are welcomed.

I get inspired by this prompt but I just get lost on showing just Echo internal conflict, simming the relationship of Echo&Ishanti, and some fluffy chaotic familly moment.

You can read my mumbling below the cut:

Ishanti is a human female, born in 45 BBY on Nar Shaddaa. Her mother was a barmaid and her father a bounty hunter, who died during her early childhood. She had to fast learning how to fight in order to survive. She later worked as mercenary. Eventually, the Clone Wars began, and she directly sign up for the Republic – a good way to flee her homeworld. She goes through a training to see her abilities, adapting to follow order and working with comrade. Then she had been added to the 501st legion, assigned on the same bunker bed than Teleri [another of my oc, ex guard of Coruscant] and Echo/Fives. The four of them getting close friends very fast. She started to develop feelings for the kind Echo, but didn’t act before the Citadel. When they got him rescued near the end of the war, she had been assigned with the Bad Batch experimentally.) It has been some month now since they used Cid’s cantina as ‘headquarter’.

The team had successfully returned from their last major mission, and the credits had flowed in. For the first time in who knows when, the team decided to take some time off. Since then, Echo had been using this time to refocus on himself, something he hadn't been able to do since coming out of stasis on Skako Minor. He stayed away from the others, trying to gather his thoughts.

 The clone stood as usual, leaning against a wall near a corner of the cantina. The background music, along with the soft light and the fact that it was almost deserted made the atmosphere acceptable to him. He was tense and had never liked crowded places. The quietness was very soothing to him.

So there he was, with a glass in his hand, sipping on his past and thinking about how much he hated his current condition... A nearby noise suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts. Ishanti placed a large plate on the table next to Echo, two glasses filled with dark liquid, and sat down on a stool. She held out her hand to invite him to join her. He must have looked incredulous, because the human was quick to explain:

"I'm sorry, I suspect that you need to be a little quiet, but it's been several days that you stay in your corner, it was necessary that I come to bother you a little!"

The man blinked, and his tension eased. Hunter had probably sent him to check on her. He knew his feelings for her, and that probably only she could break his current shell. He enjoyed the company of the young woman, it did not bother him... on the contrary. He felt a gentle warmth spread through his chest as she handed him some cutlery with a big smile.

"We cooked it with Tech." She replied. "I hope you enjoy it!" He nodded, raising an eyebrow at the name mentioned. Tech must have been very concerned if he had come to do this. Tech didn't like to participate in these "trivialities" and didn't have much of a talent for cooking. He made a mental note to thank his brother and reassure him later. His attention turned to the food, as the smell of it made his stomach growl, reminding the clone that he hadn't eaten in a while. He was hesitant at the first bite, but the flavor and his hunger overcame his manners and he gobbled up the dish faster than he would have liked.

Echo paused for a moment, noticing that this was the one he had preferred when Ishanti had made them a feast back in the days of the 501st. It had been many years ago. Had she remembered, or was it pure chance?

 His pain woke up when he thought of his former legion. Images flooded his mind. Happy memories, but now tinged with deep pain. The hours of rest he spent strategizing with Rex, while Ishanti, Teleri and Fives tried to give them suggestions and supported them with caff and encouraging words. The few evenings at 79', where he felt uncomfortable, but where his classmates helped him have a good time. That time when Fives had gently pushed him to go dancing with Ishanti... The friendly training sessions with the 212th members. That mission on a planet he couldn't remember the name of, but where they had tried to ride beasts to get back to the camp faster...of course, nothing had happened according to their plan - tamed nexu, how could they believe that? And the time when Fives, in order to impress a young senator, had fought against her guards, and crashed face down when the latter simply stepped aside as Fives charged...

 "Echo..." the mercenary called softly. She put her hand on his. The contact gave him the sensation of an electric shock and he came back to reality. He seemed confused for a moment, closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath of air. He refocused and tried to put on a convincing smile.

"Echo, are you okay? Do you... do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and coughed. His throat was dry, and he was looking for a way to dodge the question. He took another sip and, putting his glass back down, answered her in a huskier voice than usual.

"Don't worry. There's no problem." She frowned and before she had a chance to retort, shouts rose from across the room. First, they saw a small gizka speeding through the cantina, followed by a small herd of other creatures, then Omega trying to catch up. They heard a loud "BOOM!" and then saw the imposing figure of Wrecker, jumping as fast as he could, tied up with a red ribbon, and hunter tied behind his back, grunting and waving his legs in the air. And finally, Tech appeared after them, cages in his hands. He stopped for a moment, turned to them and asked for their help. They burst out laughing at the sight of Tech with pink ribbons in his hair, pastel makeup smeared all over his face. The modified clone pouted, set several cages on the ground and walked on with determination.

Ishanti and Echo looked at each other for a moment, giggling as they tried to regain their seriousness. The woman said

"I hope Tech recorded everything. It will make a memorable video!"

Sometime after this event was resolved, the group found themselves back at the Marauder. Tech was in care of the ship's maintenance, with Echo and Ishanti sitting beside him, ready to help with any issues. As usual, the trio in the cockpit chatted. Cheerful exclamations from the other side of the ship made them stop for a moment and check what was going on.  Wrecker was playing with Omega and some stuffed animals. Hunter was watching his siblings fondly while drinking coffee. They met his gaze and nodded at each other. Echo and the young woman exchanged a knowing smile.

He let out a small sigh of contentment, the gloom of the last few days having vanished, leaving a pleasant feeling of lightness and happiness. He glanced back at his brothers, who were busy enjoying themselves together - Hunter had joined Wrecker and Omega at his request. The ship was alive, and for once, peaceful. Echo enjoyed this moment of relaxation. He let his mind drift to happier memories than before. He glanced at Ishanti and noticed that she was watching him anxiously. He couldn't blame her, having locked himself away in near mutism for the past week. He looked for a way to reassure her. The man cleared his throat.

"We've really come a long way," the clone declared, his recent thoughts racing through his head.

"Yes." She nodded, following his gaze. "We've been through some... complicated times. But this?" she pointed to the others. "A family like this is worth it."

"To go through moments like earlier? Absolutely!" He chuckled. He thought for a few moments, then asked her gently, "Do you remember when we first met?"

"You mean when you bumped into your trunk when you realized you were going to share bunk beds with two women?"

He rolled his eyes. "I was really surprised!!!"

"Fives didn't stop teasing you for days. I must admit I was a little amused by the situation."

"Yes. Kriff, I expected anything when I joined the legion, but certainly not this."

"What, the sight of two sublime creatures of the opposite sex?"

He felt his face turn red. "Yes, no ... Eeeer I mean" he lost his words and looked away.

Tech suddenly stepped out from under the console, looking embarrassed, and in a half annoyed, half playful tone, breathed, "Can you two get a room please, some of us are working, and your nuptial parade is distracting me!" before returning to maintenance. Echo and Ishanti exchanged a look, before turning away, both redder than the ribbon that held Wrecker and Hunter. However, each had a small smile at the corner of their lips.

So yeah I have “finished” this at nearly 4 am so I will probably rewrite the second part another day. But! I’m glad to have write something, it have been so long! ✺◟(∗❛ัᴗ❛ั∗)◞✺

[doveypink]

mornings with the hashira [kny imagine]

summary: what mornings are like with your partner. includes kyojurou, giyuu, and shinobu.

kyojurou rengoku

The bed was empty when you finally managed to pull yourself from your slumber. Still feeling sleepy, you rolled over in bed to find the other end empty. You whined, reaching out towards the vacant sheets as if your favorite source of warmth would magically appear with just a touch.

Mere moments later, the door cracked open and a head peeked through. A pair of golden eyes went alight at the sight of you in bed. “Good morning, sunshine! I made breakfast!” Kyojurou greeted, his lively voice sending a somnolent smile to your face. Maybe your longing summoned him after all.

“Morning,” you yawned, sitting up in bed. You stretched your tired bones while your partner balanced plates of steaming food in either hand. He sat next to you, carefully sinking into the mattress with his back against the headboard. “Tell me how it tastes,” he asked of you. One of the plates was ushered into your hands and you nodded, taking a hungry bite into the meal. The flavor was wonderful and you instantly sighed out of pure bliss; Senjurou must have taught your darling boyfriend a new recipe, and it was delicious.

Next to you, Kyojurou eagerly awaited your verdict. You grinned at him and praised his work between bites. “It’s perfect, thank you!”

Relieved, your partner mirrored your expression and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Good, you deserve the best. Every morning we share has to be perfect,” he replied. The rest of your meal was savored in a comfortable silence, and you couldn’t help but feel lucky to have ended up with someone so sweet.

giyuu tomioka

Your back was flush against Giyuu’s, his arms circling your body as his face was buried into your neck. You struggled weakly against the iron grip he had on you, groaning when he only snuggled further into your body. It had been nearly an hour since you had woken up and attempted to leave the bed to no avail. Giyuu was rather clingy in the morning, which would have been much cuter had you not been hoping to make a big breakfast.

“I have to get up, love,” you sighed, trying to pry his arms off of you.

“No,” he deadpanned, muffled by your shirt.

“Please, I need to make something to eat for us, I’m starving!” You reasoned with your partner, hoping to persuade him into granting you freedom.

“No,” he firmly repeated.

You huffed, thinking for a moment before deciding how to convince him. “How about I make your favorite?”

The man paused, and you felt him loosen his grip. “Salmon?” he mumbled, almost as if he’s testing whether you’re lying or not.

You hummed, simply echoing, “Salmon.”

A minute passed in silence. Then, the pair of arms that were previously holding on for dear life slipped away, allowing you to finally roll out of bed. You scampered off to the kitchen, your stomach rumbling at the thought of breakfast. You moved around the kitchen quickly, not faltering for even a second when you heard the padding of feet against the floor. Giyuu appeared beside you, silently aiding your efforts to prepare the meal.

Things moved faster from there with an extra set of hands, and before you knew it, you were sharing salted salmon with a groggy Giyuu by your side. You kissed his nose between bites and watched as he looked back at you with blank eyes. Even so, you couldn’t mistake the dust of pink that climbed his cheeks.

shinobu kocho

“Wake up, darling. Let’s get ready for the day.”

Despite the sweet call of your girlfriend’s voice, you buried your face further into your pillow, determined to get more sleep. Shinobu released a displeased hum, leaning down to press a kiss on your shoulder. “Don’t be like that. Let me see you,” she asked, nuzzling her cheek into your back. “You’re not going to leave me all alone this morning, are you?”

You knew she was only teasing, but Shinobu was being very convincing. She enjoyed starting her day alongside you, which is why you sighed and rolled out of bed to her delight. The pair of you went into the restroom, plucking matching toothbrushes from the sink and tiredly scrubbing your teeth side by side. Shinobu grinned when you yawned, dragging you off to the kitchen once you were finished in the bathroom. She hummed while breakfast was prepared, blushing when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Your chin was propped on her shoulder, eyelids shut in your tired state. You swayed with her, earning a small, flustered huff from Shinobu. “You’re very distracting,” she muttered.

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a grin.

Shinobu finished soon after and you removed your arms from her with a pout to allow her to serve you. She sat across from you and enjoyed her meal, occasionally brushing her fingers against yours on the table. You smiled, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you reached across the table and picked some food from her plate. Shinobu gasped—a bit dramatic to play it up—and shot a playful glare towards you. “Thief,” she cried, “you have your own plate for a reason!”

“Well, yours looked better.”

Shinbou narrowed her eyes at you before stealing off of your plate. Your jaw dropped in mock-surprise. “Shinobu, my love, you’ve become the very thing you despise!”

The pair of you went on that way for the duration of your mealtime, stealing from the other when the moment arose, sparring with your utensils, and laughing at the childish nature of your behavior. You hated waking up so early, but you had to admit that it was worth it to spend the morning with your favorite person.

[bakubub]

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[julek]

a humble offering to @west-moor and @kueble, for bringing this post to life. they’re very dumb, your honor. | read on ao3

It starts at dinner one night. 

They settled in a few days ago, bringing the ice cold from the mountains and the snow with them, after trudging up the Killer for two weeks. They sit at the wooden table and before them stands Vesemir’s famous roast, the one Geralt had told Jaskier all about. 

Geralt helps himself to some potatoes, and gestures to Jaskier’s plate. “You want some?”

Before Jaskier can nod, Lambert cuts him off. “Darling,” he says with a pointed tone.

Geralt turns to him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “What?”

“You seemed to have forgotten you were speaking to your bard, there,” Lambert quips, and sits back with a knowing smirk. “Just wanted to help you out.”

Geralt blinks. “Uh.”

Jaskier notices the way he’s frozen in place, and gently touches his forearm, ignoring Lambert’s non-sequitur. “I’d love some, Geralt. Thank you.” 

“Uh,” Geralt repeats, and doesn’t take his eyes off Lambert as he fills Jaskier’s plate. “Sure.”

+

Jaskier pads into the kitchen the next morning, eyes still fuzzy with sleep and an old, worn woolen sweater hanging off his shoulder. Geralt looks up from his bowl of kasha and smiles. 

“Morning,” Jaskier mumbles, and sits down at the table. 

“Good morning.”

The shout comes from the pantry, followed by the unmistakable sound of pans and cups clattering. “Morning, honey!” 

Jaskier narrows his eyes, and looks at Geralt for help. He shakes his head. “Um. Hi?” 

Out of the pantry walks Lambert, hands full of baking ingredients, a flour scar crossing his cheek. “How’d ya sleep, sweetheart?”

Jaskier decidedly does not blush a bright shade of red. He doesn’t. “Well, that’s just— thank you, Lambert, for asking. I slept well, even though this keep’s freezing cold and my bed was entirely too big for one fragile bard such as myself.”

Lambert frowns. “What do you mean, too big? You’re not sharing with Geralt?”

Geralt chokes on his kasha, momentarily. Jaskier snorts and shakes his head. “No, I’m staying in the east wing.”

“Ah,” Lambert says, a wolfish grin on his face as he ties the apron behind his back. “That’s… interesting.”

He shoots Geralt a look that’s there a second and gone the next, and Jaskier would’ve missed it, if not for the developed skill of observing Witchers and their fleeting emotions. Still, it’s a look he can’t decipher, a mix of amusement and mischief. Best not to find out, he decides. 

“So, Lambert,” he starts, a touch louder than he should. “What’s that you’re making?”

+

Geralt had warned him, Jaskier thinks in retrospect, that Lambert was a bit weird. An acquired taste. And he is, Jaskier won’t deny it, but he’s also incredibly unpredictable — his gruff demeanor and rough disposition always, without fail, betray the sweet words that leave his mouth. 

He’d been brushing the horses down when Lambert ruffled his hair and called him dear. Geralt nearly dropped his sword one morning, when Jaskier walked out onto the courtyards and Lambert called out hello, sunshine. On their way to the library to get absolutely smashed, a gentle touch to his elbow and little bird. 

They’re all incredibly sweet, incredibly unexpected delicacies, and Jaskier doesn’t know what to make of them. Sure, Lambert isn’t horrible to look at in the slightest, what with the entire lean-body, scarred-face look he has going on, with the playful teasing and easy smiles he gets out of him. He’s objectively handsome, and funny, and kind, when he has to be, and Jaskier has let him know, many times. He hasn’t been exactly subtle in feeling his muscles through his linen shirts and sending looks his way whenever he’s said something salacious and tempting — signs so clear even the brother of one of the Continent’s most oblivious Witcher could read them. Which is why it’s so infuriatingly confusing, the fact that name-calling is all Lambert’s got for him. 

And it’s not lost to him at all, the way Geralt frowns and fiddles with his medallion whenever Lambert lets a honey-sweet pet name slip. He doesn’t miss the way Geralt stubbornly looks straight ahead, focused on absolutely nothing at all, nor the way his mouth twitches, almost, almost resembling a pout. 

It’s amusing, to say the least.

+

“Well, I’m off to bed, my wonderful friends,” Jaskier announces one night, after playing a few annoying renditions of Toss a Coin, until he got Eskel to break and beg him to stop. 

The wolves say their goodbyes, and just as Jaskier’s about to leave the Great Hall, Lambert calls after him. 

“Night, love,” he says, offhandedly, and continues his conversation with Eskel, as if nothing had happened. 

Jaskier scans the room, and his eyes fall on Geralt, who’s trying very hard to remain seated, even when his knuckles are white and his leg is bouncing wildly enough to propel him into the night sky. His amber gaze follows Lambert’s movements and if Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say Geralt was about to throttle his brother. 

“Hmm.” He murmurs. “Goodnight, Lambert. Goodnight, Geralt.”

Jaskier smiles sweetly and leaves the room at a leisurely pace. He can feel Geralt’s eyes on his back.

+

One particularly chilly afternoon, Jaskier’s leaving the library when he hears voices that carry through the hall. 

“Well? Gonna explain yourself?”

Oh, the middle-aged woman that lives inside Jaskier’s heart and loves to gossip jumps up and down in joy at the prospect of what seems to be a very interesting conversation. He slips out of the room and presses his back to the wall, even when he knows the Witchers could sense his presence. It’s more fun if there’s a risk to get caught, he reasons. 

Lambert’s voice is low, and Jaskier can hear his smug smile as he says, “Well, you weren’t doing anything about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Geralt’s voice echoes. 

“It means, you thick-headed idiot,” Lambert drags the words out, like he’s speaking to a child. If Jaskier’s quiet, he can hear the way Geralt’s blood boils in his veins. “That you’ve been walking in circles for too long. Jaskier’s here.” At the mention of his name, the bard perks up. 

“I know that, Lambert. I invited him. What’s that got to do with this— this sweet talking thing you’ve got going on? It’s weird. Creeps me out.”

“What? I can be decent when needs must!” Comes Lambert’s offended retort. “What I’m saying, pretty boy, is that he’s a good thing, the kind that Witchers never get to have. Not that you own him or anything— it’s just. He’s good, and he’s obviously waited for you to make a move, sometime in this past decade. He’s here, for fuck’s sake— in an old ruin in the middle of fucking nowhere, holed up with four Witchers and a goat, nothing else. Ain’t exactly a walk in the park.”

Jaskier stands very still, his heart beating out of his chest. 

“Hmm. I still— I don’t deserve him.”

Lambert laughs. “Well, too bad, then. You can’t come to me with that self-deprecating shit, I’m not Eskel. But, fuck, if you don’t deserve him, who the fuck does? Certainly not me, but— I need you to listen very closely— he won’t wait forever. He might even settle for me, if you don’t make a move soon.”

“Ugh.” 

“Yeah.”

Geralt’s footsteps echo down the hall, moving closer to Lambert, Jaskier thinks. 

“You’ll stop with the pet names, then?” 

Lambert laughs, again. “Absolutely not. It’s too fun seeing you get all hot and bothered.” He steps out of the room, thankfully, in the opposite direction, and calls out, “Don’t fuck it up!”

Jaskier lets out a breath and slides to the floor, gathering the new information in his brain. Geralt wants him. He wants him, and worst of all, thinks he’s undeserving — damn him and his humility. He lets out a laugh in disbelief. 

Geralt wants him. 

+

The next morning, when Jaskier walks into the kitchen, he’s greeted by a blushing Geralt. 

“Hi,” Jaskier says, an amused smile curling his lips, and sits down at the table. “How are you this morning, dear?”

Geralt pushes a bowl in his direction, a bit too strongly. “Good.” He coughs. “Uh, I’m good… Sugar face.” 

“Huh?” Jaskier stops mid-bite. He quickly regains his composure. “Um— that’s good, I’m glad, yeah.” 

Geralt grimaces, and an awkward silence follows. Jaskier digs into his breakfast with more enthusiasm than necessary, until Lambert walks in, firewood under both arms. 

“Lambert! Thank the Gods— I mean, uh, it’s so good to see you. It’s a bit chilly this morning, isn’t it? I’m sure you agree, what with coming straight from the great outdoors and such— I’m going to the library, if anyone needs me, uh, just,” he rambles as he washes his bowl, “just call. You know. My name. Jaskier the bard, ha— that’s me! Anyway, see you.” 

He makes haste to leave the kitchen, and as he walks down the hall, he hears Lambert clicking his tongue. 

“Fuck, Wolf, it’s not even mid-morning.”

+

Jaskier stays in the library until the sweet aroma of Vesemir’s stew reaches the room and his stomach rumbles pleasantly at the thought. Given the way he’d fled the kitchen, he wouldn’t be surprised if no one called him to lunch — they probably thought he was having some sort of stroke, with his word-vomiting and hurried escape. He’s just opened a new book when he hears a knock. 

“Come in,” he says, voice steady.

The door opens, and sure enough, Geralt’s standing at the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face and a terribly endearing flush creeping up his neck. 

“Hey, love,” Jaskier says, because it’s difficult to call him otherwise. “You okay?”

“Hmm.” Geralt walks over to his chair, and stands there awkwardly until Jaskier gestures to a bench next to him. “We’ll have lunch soon.”

Jaskier smiles. “I was just thinking about that. It’s stew, isn’t it? Oh, Vesemir spoils me so.”

“Thought you’d be hungry,” Geralt says, looking at his hands. “You left breakfast early.”

Jaskier pales, then lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh! Yes, well, I had suddenly remembered a book I just had to examine more closely, and—”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s looking at him now, and Jaskier closes his mouth, choosing to look back into his amber eyes and wait for whatever comes. Nothing does, for a while — they just stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak up. Finally, Geralt does. 

“I invited you up here, to spend the winter with me,” he rasps, “because I couldn’t bear the thought of not being close to you, Jaskier, I— I can’t stand it.”

Jaskier’s heart breaks a little. “Geralt.”

“I should’ve asked you to come up here years ago. I wasn’t brave enough. Thought you’d hate the idea.” He grimaces. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeats. “When you asked me to come here with you— you have no idea what it meant to me, knowing you still wanted my company. I couldn’t have been happier.”

Geralt sniffs and gives him a weak smile, his white hair falling on his face.

“I’m not good at this,” he says, and gestures vaguely at the space between them. “The whole…”

“Calling me disgustingly sweet and somewhat alarming pet names?”

Geralt nods.

“I know, dear heart.” Jaskier takes Geralt’s hands in his own. “I know, and I don’t expect you to.”

“I’d still like to call you something, though,” Geralt says, the tiniest hint of a pout on his lips. “Can’t let Lambert best me.” 

Jaskier snorts. “So it’s all about honor, then?” 

Geralt shakes his head. “It’s about you.” 

And oh, he sounds so sincere, so open and fragile, Jaskier can’t find it in himself to tease him any further. 

“You know what I loved the most about traveling to Kaer Morhen with you?”

A tiny frown knits Geralt’s brow. “What?”

“‘T was when we stopped in those hamlets, the ones that aren’t even on maps,” he murmurs. “Where you gather your supplies, where people know you and call you by your name. You know why?”

Geralt shakes his head.

“Because,” Jaskier whispers, bringing their foreheads together, “whenever they asked you about me, about who I was, your answer was always the same.” 

He’s my bard, Geralt had said to the horse trader when they bought a mule. My bard, he’d answered, when the chatty shopkeeper had inquired about the colorful fellow trailing after him. My bard, he’d said with a shrug and a fond smile, as Jaskier and the tailor entwined themselves in an argument about fabrics and the season’s colors.

My bard. 

“You always called me yours.” 

Jaskier closes his eyes when he feels Geralt’s lips on his own, a soft, gentle thing. They move slowly, simply exploring — when they part, there are kisses being pressed to his cheeks, his brow, the corner of his mouth and his jaw.

Geralt smiles at him, and Jaskier smiles back, aware that they probably look like two lovesick fools staring at each other, but far too gone to care. 

“I don’t need flowery names or honey-soaked terms of endearment,” Jaskier assures him. “Being called yours is more than enough.” 

Geralt presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Hmm. Can’t go around claiming you as mine, though. ‘S a bit archaic.”

“Mm. You’re right. Love of my life, my moon and my stars should be enough, then. Rolls off the tongue, even.”

Geralt growls. “Jask.”

“Dearly beloved— no, that’s too formal— I’ve always been fond of Angel, though I doubt I’ve earned that title.” 

Geralt kisses him again, and Jaskier half-suspects it’s less about the tender gesture and more about shutting him up. 

“I’ll think of more, you know. You can’t distract me with kisses forever.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. “Okay.” He pecks his cheek. “Bard.”

“Yours,” Jaskier says smugly. 

Before Geralt can open his mouth, the library door swings open. 

“Fucking finally, Geralt! We’re all so very happy for this revelation, way to go, and all that.” He clasps his hands together. “Now, you both need to get your asses to lunch, otherwise Vesemir will kick you out. Jaskier, baby, please be grossly in love with Geralt later.”

Geralt groans. “Fuck off, Lambert.”

He leaves with a cackle. Jaskier smooths out his doublet, gets up and holds his hand out to Geralt. He grins.

“You coming, sugar face?”

[vicious-vixxxen]

Tenya Iida X Male!Reader: Comfort for a Broken Heart

Hey guys :3 Just something I wrote on a whim, for myself: didn’t plan to post it, but thought maybe it might help those of you who may be going through similar feelings to these. Or have before, and they flare up from time to time.  Happens to the best of us, so if this can help in any way, here ya go <3

((AS ALWAYS: MINORS DNI I AM AN 18+ BLOG))

“My turn,” Denki called, snatching up the aux cord and immediately beginning to shuffle through his playlist as he jammed the cord into his phone, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Leaning more heavily into Tenya’s side. The class rep rumbling contentedly in his chest, before steeling himself and taking a deep breath as he slowly slid a hand over your shoulder, cupping the one opposite him and bringing you in close to his side. Blush high on his cheeks, as you looked up at him and smiled. Winking at him, in your own little world together as he turned back to his book, and you continued to scroll through your phone. The sound of Denki and Mineta bickering over something dumb more or less ambient, in the background. It was a typical Saturday in the dorms, all things considered. Most people lounge around the common area, taking turns playing music, sharing their taste and just having a nice time. You loved nights like these. They calmed your inner anxieties, made you feel…safe. Cared for. You wouldn’t trade them for anything. “Hey, I love this song!” Kirishima shouted, a little louder than the others, drawing your attention out of your mind and back to the music. Missing the worried look Momo through your way as you stared ahead, and the lyrics finally registered. Oh. Oh no.

Your chest grew tight suddenly, and try as you might to inwardly, frantically remind yourself it was fine, the part of yourself ruled by your emotions- the larger part-began to take effect quickly. Cheeks heating up comfortably, as you glanced around, as though everyone could tell. Though in reality only Momo knew, though Tenya, bless his heart, felt you stiffening next to him, and stared down suddenly at you by his side, one brow curled, as he set his book down. “Y/N, are you-“ “I uh- I’m gonna go lie down guys, I’m starting to get a little tired. Might come back out if I can’t sleep or something. Sweet dreams,” you announced, hurriedly, cupping Iida’s jaw gently with one hand-Offering an apologetic smile, but not quite meeting his eyes as you turned to leave, shaking your head briefly at Momo as she made to follow you- pursing her lips, and settling her hands in her lap nervously as she watched you leave. Turning to Tenya suddenly, and debating briefly, before motioning him to come into the kitchen with her. The taller boy following quickly, glancing back over his shoulder at you as you disappeared around the corner Making your way to your room, you breathed deeply, carefully. Good, then bad. Good, then bad. Breath coming in smaller pants, as you grew anxious. Frustrated tears welling up in your eyes as you rushed the last few feet to your room. Shutting the door quickly behind yourself, and crawling into bed without even changing. Sighing in relief at the scent of your sheets, the feel of your various pillows surrounding you, cradling you. It was okay. Everything was okay. All over a fucking /song/. You were so pathetic. It was okay though, you were okay. Everything would be okay. You’re alright. You were so /stupid/. Why were you like this? Why allow him any more rule over your life? Get OVER it. God. Sniffling was followed by soft sobs, as you clutched at your pillows. Allowing it to happen, as it always happened. Some days were better. Some days you were actually very good at ignoring it, or going unaffected as a whole. But some days, like today, the smallest thing could set you off. Make you feel small, and lonely, make you…miss him. Miss a time, and place. Miss…everything. Thoughts flooded your mind without your consent, fueling your sadness. Dates, smiles, kisses, /songs/. God. What would Tenya think? Pathetic. You were so pathetic. Lonely and pathetic. You didn’t deserve him. Yes. Yes you did. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t be sad about things that passed, you reminded yourself in your mind quietly as you cried. You were human. This was okay.

Maybe you were more emotional than others, maybe it was taking you longer to let go. To forget…to forget. But that was okay. Things take time. Sometimes you have bad days. It’s okay. It’s okay. “It’s okay,” Tenya echoed, voice soft, and sure as he slid in next to you in bed- you hadn’t even heard him come in. Glasses set on the bedside table, and house slippers next to the bed, Tenya, with a heavy heart, slid an arm around you, bringing you as close to his chest as humanly possible, as you cried. Harder now that he was here. Seeing you this way. Speaking as though he knew. Did he know? …of course he did. What didn’t Iida know? “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” you hiccuped, turning into his chest, hands fisted in the crisp, unwrinkled material, making it quite the opposite as you cried into your boyfriend's chest. Tenya closed his eyes to stave off his own tears, as he racked his brain for anything, ANYTHING to say. He always had something to say. Always knew what to do. Had all the answers. So why wouldn’t they come to him now? “It’s okay,” he repeated, voice cracking, now unsure as he wrapped you in his arms and squeezed.

And there you lay together, well into the night, as you worked through your feelings. Shushed assurances from Tenya, and your quiet, hiccuping sobs are the only thing filling the space. Until finally, you’d cried yourself out. Breathing heavily, mouth open against Tenya’s chest, as one of his large, warm hands rubbed circles in your back. His warm breath flush across your neck where he’d nuzzled his face into: tentative, hesitant kisses ghosting the column of your neck as you calmed down. “I…I read, quite a lot. As you know,” Tenya started slow, almost too quiet, waiting to see if you’d stop him. If you needed more silence. But you nodded, urging him to continue silently. “Sometimes I read…wonderful books. Books with knowledge, and wisdom. Books that stay with me, teach me new things. Incredible books. And while I do believe all literature is to be respected…sometimes I read bad books too. And sometimes, I read books that are simply…books. Neither good, nor bad. Sometimes I’ll remember those unremarkable ones, once in a blue moon. Because that’s how the brain works. In funny ways sometimes…” Iida paused, face a deep red as he tried to figure out where he was going. What he was trying to say… “Think…think of him. As a chapter, in the book, that is your life,” he began again, even slower, as you held your breath. “Good. Bad. Remarkable, and unremarkable. Sometimes you forget you read it at all, and sometimes you suddenly remember the good parts. Or the bad parts. And you wonder how in the world it can still come up. Make you feel things. Good things, or bad things” “As humans, this is just something we do. Our brains are capable of incredible things, but even they get things wrong sometimes. Are flawed. Can hurt us in an attempt to help us.” “Think of it as a chapter of a book. It’s happened. Maybe it was wonderful, maybe it was terrible. But it’s there, on the pages.You can’t change it. But you can read some more, so much more. And eventually…all the good things you read, will outweigh the bad, or even the unremarkable things you’ve read previously. It’s…hard to see now, for example. Especially if it was your last chapter. How could you forget it so easily right now? But I promise…I promise you’ll feel better. And I’ll,” Tenya paused, choking up A bit, as he recalled all the good times you’d had together in just the last few weeks. Finally getting close..becoming more. “-I’ll be here to make sure those next chapters you read are more than remarkable. I’ll make sure they’re spectacular, y/n. I promise.” He kissed your forehead then, lips quivering as his own emotions overtook him, and you began to cry again. But for a whole new reason. Lifting your head up to press your lips to Tenya’s. Grip tight on his shirt as you kissed him hard. Trying to convey just how much you loved him with one little action. Things were gonna be okay, you reminded yourself quietly, as the two of you were a mess of tears, and kissing. You were gonna be okay. 

[lipstickbisous]

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

a/n: this is for @celestialbarnes' 4k writing challenge!! the prompt is "you said you loved me." "i lied." it's funny bc with the character and prompts i actually found this super challenging, but i loved writing it!!

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, former!stucky

summary: when the nightmares come, and the memories return, at least he has you there. and when he doesn't, his ghost appears.

warnings: angst central, mentions of financial struggles, implied suicidal thoughts, reader is a dick, mentions of stucky, sad!bucky, smut; sir!kink, bucky speaking russian, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), choking, creampie, slight cockwarming 18+ MINORS DNI

word count: 3.2k

the following work is my own writing. do not plagairise or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.

masterlist

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

his iron hand is covered in a felt glove that hits the hem of his jacket sleeve, entirely concealing the vibranium from prying eyes. metallic fingers lift a gathering of plastic bags filled with groceries almost tearing through the bottom like he's lifting air. the weight on his left arm hangs with a force of gravity as he struggles to push in the key to his front door. the ceiling lights of his apartment hallway would've been considered tasteful in 1945, but now he could see the shadow of cobwebs and dust collecting on the tops. it created a filter over the lighting that made the hallway look haunted and abandoned.

when bucky had been pardoned by the government, he didn't see it as a sign of hope. he knew that without steve, there was no one to assure that he'd be given a safe home, he'd be protected. and without steve, life had been duller and gray. there had been a blossoming love for the blue-eyed man that sat inside of his chest, and then, it had started to plant itself deep in the burrows of his heart. seaweed-colored vines found themselves tracing the outline of his skeleton, and each leaf that bloomed was another aching memory of him. moments in brooklyn that had taken place decades ago were still fresh and he dreamed of them every night. how was bucky to cut them out by himself?

when he looked up, he saw the tufts of blonde hair underneath the hallway lights. his lips were parted in shock as his heart shattered again. "i'm sorry," he had whispered, shoving his hands together nervously, picking at his nails and the sleeve of his navy blue jacket. bucky's mind was racing, heart was soaring as he approached him, and he wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

"need help?" a voice echoed through the hallway, and suddenly, the walls didn't seem so haunted anymore. he was gone, but that was for the better because here you were and bucky didn't need anything else. you were light and when his eyes looked up at you, he could've sworn an intake of oxygen forced itself into his 100-year old lungs.

it was an easy answer. bucky didn't need to do it by himself, because just in the moment of his thundering darkness, of the smallest thoughts at would it be like to end it right there, you took a pair of shears and slashed away all the vines. the leaves scattering the insides of his body fell, and the suffocating grip the roots of that toxic love had on his heart were released. bucky could breathe again and steve was forgotten. because here you were.

and god, was he thankful. he only lightly chuckled while a deep red hue took over the skin of his cheeks. you approached him delicately, licking your tongue over your lips for repeated moisture and reached out to take the key from his quivering hand. he stepped to the side with a small smile and allowed you to unlock his door. he'd allowed you so many things, opening so many places he didn't know existed...not even steve could do that. "what'd you buy today?" you asked, grabbing several of the bags he had and set them on his kitchen counter.

he followed your actions and shrugged, "not much," and flipped the switch of his kitchen lights. they were a blaring white-light that made his head hurt if he looked at them for too long. damn it, he thought to himself. new light bulbs were the one thing he'd forgotten while at the store. "just enough to get through the week." he would've offered to cook you dinner, but with the assumption that with this late hour you would've already eaten, he shrugged it off. "what're you here for?"

it was an abrupt question but he didn't mean it with harmful intentions. with a sigh, you crossed your arms and looked to the tile floors. the way he looked at you were if he was a small bird, his wings broken and feathers plucked and you were the only one who could heal him. "i didn't know if you were busy," but the healing was over. he could finally soar again without a limp and you were no longer needed--it hurt to think about for too long. "i didn't want you to be alone."

he could feel his heart swelling to a size ten times larger than what it had been before, locked away in its ivory cage. the only one who had held the key had been him, but you tore it from his hands because he did not deserve it. you did. "i don't want to be a bother to you," he smiled poorly and ineffectively. there was still that small part of james buchanan barnes that doubted everything everyone told him, and you were hoping all the moments in the world spent together could fix that.

"jesus," you mutter with a light breath, one that's small but enough to replenish bucky with life. "you're never a bother to me. i love you." those words would be the death of him. he longed to hear them as he fell from the train, whispered into his ear every time his memory was reset because bucky had never gotten a chance to do something for himself. but this--this relationship, this beautiful thing he had with you--he finally had control. you begin to unpack the groceries he'd gotten, seeing that a carton of black cherry ice-cream was already beginning to melt, but before you get the chance to throw it in his freezer, bucky's ionic arm pulls you by the waist.

the other one grabs your cheek and attaches his lips to yours with an aggressive but desperate kiss that ached with need. he was soft and warm, darting his tongue between the opening to your mouth and letting it meet yours. with the sudden though appreciated action, you let the ice cream carton fall to his kitchen floor, the lid popping off so that white cream and cherry chunks create a puddle near your feet. bucky doesn't dare break the connection of you two as he lifts you by your thighs, hoisting your around his waist and carrying you to his bedroom door.

his lock had been broken when he'd moved into the damp and smelly apartment, so he turned himself around and pushed the door open with his broad back as you peeled the fabric that covered his chest. his shirt was dismantled to the side, left to find sometime in the morning. "james-" you whispered through your kiss because, as he'd told you the one night you had shared dinner, you were the only one allowed to say that name. that small part of him that was still james buchanan barnes wanted to hear it from your lips only.

"sh," he quickly silenced you, placing you underneath him on his mattress like you were a delicate feather, and a touch too rough would turn you to dust. his metallic fingers pulled the ragged jeans you'd chosen that morning, leaving your legs bare to the freezing air of his home. he noticed the way your skin prickled with the cold and immediately engulfed your lower half with him. you were soothed with a loving rush of warmth as he peppered wet kisses around your thighs and waist. the bumps on your skin were gone and you felt whole again. his kisses moved to your stomach as he crawled over you with a look in his eyes you'd seen before.

"please, james," you threw your head back once his lips latched themselves to your neck. one arm wrapped around your torso, supporting your back, and the other was tracing the outline of your body with gentle touches. trailing from your shoulder to your waist, to the place between your legs that ached. cotton panties clothed your bottom and front, but they'd have to do more to get in his way.

he looks away for one moment and freezes. there he is, sitting in the chair bucky had placed in the corner of his room. he wore only a tight pair of black boxers and it clung to his skin like a second layer. his hair, dirty blonde and greasy, hung on his forehead. he had his head propped on his hand, watching intently at you both. but when your hands cupped his cheeks, and pressed him closer to you, he disappeared and the anxiety melted into your touch.

the tip of his finger pressed directly on your clothed clit as soon as he began to suck on your jaw, pushing your head back even more than before. "baby," you immediately clenched around nothing, squeezing your hand around the metal limb and he could've sworn you almost bent it.

his chuckle was deep and rumbled from his chest so that it vibrated your entire body underneath him. "what do you want, honey?" his voice dripped with fox-like slyness and his smirk had you flooding into his head.

"make me feel good..." you trailed off, eyes fluttering shut so you never noticed him move lower down your body. he pulled your panties to the side and pressed his tongue flat against your folds, so your warmer and wetter than before. his spit mixes with your fluids when he rips the cotton into shreds and throws it next to your head. "please, sir," you croak and bucky growls into your core between your legs. you wrap them around his neck and his face only reddens a tiny bit when his primary focus becomes exploring the inside of your heat. his tongue darts past your opening, wet as he pushes through the barrier only slightly stretching you. the muscle is tight and clamps down around him, but he lets the tip of his tongue push up, down, to the sides, and up again.

you released the pressure around his neck mostly because the addition of his finger against your bead was more than enough to handle. "i know you love that, doll," he whispers against your cunt, literally dripping juices from his mouth. it trails down his chin where it sticks to the curve of your ass. "love my fingers toying with your little pussy, edging you so you can cum all over my mouth," his words are filth, but then again, he has his face shoved against your wet lips, his nose bumping that sensitive spot so you moaned even louder with every passing second.

your nods are stuttered with a, "yes, sir," before he pulls away, placing both of his hands by your shoulders and meeting your eyes. you whine and groan, letting your hips rub the air for some sort of friction and bucky only smirked. gone was the thought of him and here was the beautiful presence of you. he began to unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding over the boxers covering his manhood. he held his weight in his hand, giving small strokes so he grew firmer and heavier, rubbing the head through your folds to gather your slick. you moaned, "no, james, let me help-"

his fingers took your chin so your eyes drew from his length and met him. "i just want you," bucky whispers inches away from you and pressed himself against your hole, stretching open your walls so you suffocated him. "so perfect, doll, so fucking tight."

your moan took control of his heart, leaving a clenched fist squeezing the muscle in his chest. you pressed your head into his hand he'd placed underneath you, curving your back so he rutted into a new angle. "m-more, sir," you whispered breathlessly, and it almost came out with a rasp.

"what was that, little girl?" he sneered, smirking into your ear. you could feel hot breath fanning against the side of your head, an addition to the pleasure in between your legs. his fingers trailed down your stomach with a little tickle to wear your clit dragged against his length as he continued to set a brutal pace. his balls met your ass with every pounding thrust, and his fingers harshly pinched your clit. "this good enough for you, baby doll?"

your nods are rapid and desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he hits that spot inside you. he notices it when he does--your mouth twitches and your hand shoots up to the wrist that holds your clit when he begins to rub it. "yes, sir, t-thank you," your voice cracks, words are staggered, and it's exactly how bucky likes to see you. vulnerable because he made you this way. all undone just for him.

the hand underneath your head manages to wrap around your neck, applying a pressure that cuts off your air supply. "fuck, sweetheart, this cunt's wrapped around me so tight," all of the pain, all of the suffering, and all of the dreams of ending it were nonexistent in moments like these. everything that was remnant of him was gone and for once, bucky was okay that. "so fucking perfect," he cried, eyes watering when you clenched down around him. his ghost no longer haunted him in both the shadows and light. it was like you scared him away, arms defensively shielding bucky from any harm that he could possibly cause. and yet, here you were, unraveling like a thread from a sweater simply because he could do it to you.

the pressure on your pearl, his thumb ensuring you couldn't fully breathe, and the way he continuously rammed into your sensitive spot, you were so close. you could already feel yourself just barely letting go around him, and he could too. "not yet, malen'kiy," he grinned, leaning down so his lips dragged over your chest down to where you bud clung to the cold air of his home. his eyes met yours with a playful glance as soon as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, immediately sucking harshly.

"you're evil," you manage to giggle cutting yourself off with an unexpected, pornographic moan when his teeth nipped down around you. he pulls his hand away from your neck to hear what other noises you have to give.

his chuckle was deep once again and this time, it vibrated your entire body. both of your bodies fluidly moved together, pushing and messing up the sheets he'd tightly fitted against his mattress earlier that day. you knew there'd be a puddle of your juices left on the blankets, and like always, you'd offer to wash them for him and bucky would decline. "just cum, doll," he speaks lowly. he's teasing you and he knows it.

"c-can i please cum, sir?" you batted your eyes, innocently pouting for a release. it was close and painful to hold it back any longer, growing more intense with every moment passing.

the smirk played on his lips was threatening and scary. you couldn't even remember all the times he'd denied you of an organism, pushing you over so that your toes dangled off the edge of the cliff only to pull you back. with his lips still wrapped around your bud, his hips still jutting against yours like he was a rabid dog, grunting and groaning, he spoke clearly, "cum."

if bucky could record your moans, cries, sobs, and screams--and maybe he has...--he'd listen to it until the day he died. your thighs shook around his hips, somehow loosening and tightening yourself. as you flooded around him, he could feel the warmth surrounding his length and just as you finished convulsing, clawing his vibranium arm and pulling at his hair, his tip brushed harshly against your cervix.

"fuck!" he groaned, as a shot of white fluid filled you to brim, leaving a heavy weight that spilled out with a tickle when he finally pulled from you. "oh, honey..." he must've stayed inside you for an hour, collapsing so his chest met yours and his kisses stayed on your jaw. and when the emptiness did return, leaving you to miss his cock already, he watched your eyelids fall heavy with sleep. bucky pulled the blanket over you, falling slump next to your body and wrapping his arms around yours.

your light snores and breaths were music that lulled him to sleep. the white noise he needed because the silence was scary now. he'd stayed awake for two hours after you'd fallen asleep, watching the way your chest rose and fell with an inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale pattern. and when his eyes drifted over to the armchair in the corner of his room, his ghost was no longer there to taunt him.

time flew and morning came, like always. and like always, you left without anything to wear underneath your pants and a kiss on the lips from him.

his feet padded throughout his apartment floor, wearing nothing more than black boxers and a cheap cotton t-shirt he'd gotten that barely protected him. he strolled over to his window that overlooked the street, and chuckled when he noticed you discreetly limp to your car. as you drove away, creating a distance between you, that darkness that overtook his soul returned. your presence drifted and no more could he hold you, and now, the vines began to grow.

they grew lethal thorns, bloomed toxic blossoms around his heart. he began to suffocate again, feeling a pain his chest that only you could alleviate. but now you were gone. it was when bucky wandered into his kitchen with sagging shoulders, he stepped into a wet puddle of melted ice cream and black cherries. it covered the ball of his foot with a sticky, gross layer and he collapsed.

he folded, leaning into his lap and holding his head in his hands. tears leaked into his palm, slipping through the cracks of his fingers and onto the floor. his face turned a bright red, only this time it was due to a rush of blood and an oncoming headache. he cried your name, he cried his name, and on the third body-racking sob of a garbled "steve", it was like he had summoned his arrival.

his phantom presence left a chilling feeling in the air. and without even having to look up, bucky knew that this version of steve wasn't even real. this wasn't his ghost. this wasn't him. this wasn't him returning to see bucky because he cared. this was a part of bucky's imagination, a sick and twisted form of therapy because when bucky didn't have you, he had nothing else. "you said you loved me," he had cried, biting down on his knuckles and wrist. when he met his blue eyes with a heartbroken glance, steve's expression didn't budge.

bucky had created this version of steve--this evil and cruel version of him that only made this heartache worse. he brought this torture on himself and now, he could barely handle it.

he stood, towering above him with his fists clenched. his eyes bore a hot hole in bucky's skull and every passing moment was hell. there were flames beginning to engulf bucky's body, burning his skin and leaving him as a pile of dust. after all, that's what he had been for those past five years, leaving him to learn that he didn't really need bucky. and that tore every part of him apart.

"i lied." he muttered, lips tight against his teeth as if it hurt him to say it. but still, he stood above bucky with an emotionless stare.

his cries filled the walls of his home for the rest of the day, waiting for the next chance he got to hold you again.

mutuals: @balenciagabucky @cloudystevie @honeyloverogers @steebsbabygirl @ronimina @honeychicana @fairytaleseb @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @avengersbau @bvckysmoon @sapphireplums @a-little-counter-esperanto @letters-to-esme @capsiclecevans @babyyhoneyydarling @honeysucklesteve

[hawkinsindiana]

this changes things

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER FOUR OF ELEVEN (!!)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 2.3k

a/n: we’re back to eleven chapters baby!!!! this one ended up being longer than i thought. i know i usually post on friday nights, but i couldn’t help but give you all a lil valentine’s day treat. pls enjoy!!!!

masterlist

Steve’s nervous. 

It’s down to the wire; there's only a few short weeks left of his final high school semester. Four out of five college applications have been rejected. Each one received has fed the anxiety more and more. 

Every day that passes without a lick of news from the remaining university has him reconsidering everything. His education. His career. His future.

The only thing Steve knows about his future is that he wants you in it, in whichever form that might be. You’re the constant. Without you, he’s afraid he’d eventually go back to being that person he was before. You make him want to be better. Trying to be worthy of you gives Steve purpose. 

He imagined that getting a college education would help keep him on that path. It seems farther away with each rejection letter he receives. 

Steve hasn’t told you that he hasn’t gotten into any so far. He’s afraid of disappointing you, especially after everything you’ve done for him. 

The spring of ‘85 has been particularly unforgiving. It’s been storming all week - the air still hangs with that familiar smell of rain soaked concrete. You read that the Hawkins Post reported a record amount of rainfall; the local stream overflowed and flooded a few basements. 

The mail is still damp when Steve retrieves it after practice. It sticks to his fingers as he shuffles through each envelope, drying his sneakers on the welcome mat. 

And then his eyes linger on one addressed to him; Steve nearly drops his backpack when he sees who sent it. 

Haphazardly, he tosses the rest of the mail onto the kitchen counter as he contemplates whether to even open the damn thing. Steve’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Is it an answer he wants?

Whatever the words inside this parcel read, it changes Steve’s life forever. His future is planned from the moment he breaks the seal - there would be no going back. Either he stays here in Hawkins, trapped by an education he neglected for far too long, or he gets to take a step to distance himself from this shitty town and prove his worth. 

Steve isn’t a fan of the former option.

He wishes you were here to read it for him. He’d rather you tell him the news; hearing it come from your lips would make it easier. 

By the time Steve decides to open it, a few minutes have passed. Why does this feel like the scariest thing he’s ever done?

Due to the water, some of the ink bled through the paper; pieces of the letter are illegible. But at the top, a familiar phrase answers his question: Unfortunately, we regret to inform you-

Steve curses, angrily throwing the envelope and its contents into the trash. He refuses to read anymore. 

He has no one to blame but himself. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry. There were multiple opportunities for him to change course and put effort into his schoolwork. By the time he finally tried, it was too late. 

Thunder booms in the distance once Steve parks his car beside your mother’s. He doesn’t remember deciding to come here; the only thing he can recall is grabbing the keys, without a destination in mind. His heart brought him to your warmth. 

As Steve gets out of the car, he wonders if this was maybe a bad idea. It isn’t very often that he feels afraid to face you - he’s scared of your reaction, and the outcome that could follow.

He knew that he could love you, that he could fall just as hard as you did for him. But admitting it to himself, and then you - he doesn’t know if he has the strength to do it again. That phrase has left a sour taste in his mouth, one that Steve hopes he can wash away. Because you deserve to hear it too. 

Maybe he’s closer to saying it than he thought, perhaps that’s why he’s so scared to tell you. Maybe-

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Dustin’s voice startles Steve, who turns to see the boy walking his bike up the driveway. Steve fumbles his response, head spinning with thoughts about you, “I don’t, uh-”

Dustin interrupts him, not noticing the nerves Steve displays, “Hey, you should come in! It’s mac ‘n cheese night.” 

Steve hangs his head in defeat, knowing that he’s going to follow your brother inside. He can’t say no to this kid. 

Dustin hangs up his raincoat once the pair of them enter the house; the bell on Tews’ collar jingles as they run to greet the boys. The kitten weaves between Steve’s legs before he kneels down to give them a few pets. 

“That you, Dusty?” Your mother calls from within; clattering silverware echoes from the kitchen. Steve chuckles at the nickname. Dustin punches him in the bicep. 

He kicks off his shoes as he replies, “Hey Mom! Get out another bowl - look who I found loitering around.” 

Steve scoffs, shoving Dustin as they walk forward through the threshold into the living room. Your mom moves to welcome them; her warm smile widens when she sees Steve by her son’s side, “Well look who it is! Steve, sweetheart, how are you?”

He’s baffled by her every time he shares a meal with your family. Her kind soul is infectious, and drastically different from the parents he was raised by. Steve tries not to think about the fact her beloved pet is secretly buried out back - he’s reminded of it whenever he sees her. 

“I’m good, Mrs. Henderson. How are you?” Steve answers, returning her grin. She envelops him in a quick hug, “How many times am I going to have to tell you? Just call me Claudia, hon.”

Steve laughs along with her as he follows her to the kitchen, “I think you’ll need to remind me one more time.”

And then his eyes meet yours from across the room. They smile nearly as much as your lips at the sight of him; your heart flutters at this unexpected surprise. 

When you catch onto the sadness in his expression, the corners of your mouth drop. It’s obvious to you that something’s wrong. Steve doesn’t usually stop by without an invitation; something must’ve happened. 

Throughout dinner, you take mental notes on his deflated behavior. It’s subtle enough to fool your family, but you know him better. With each minute that passes, the more anxious you become to hear the cause. So when he volunteers to help you with the dishes, as he always does, you know it’s only a matter of time. 

“How was practice?” You ask before drying off a cup. Steve takes it from your hand as he replies, “Uh, it was good. Although it’s annoying that we’re still practicing even though the season’s over.”

You hum in agreement as he places the glass on the shelf. Steve glances back at you briefly, “What about you? What’d you get up to?”

A beat passes - you’re looking for the words to describe your afternoon. Maybe not the words, but the courage. It’s only when he turns around, brow creased, do you answer him. 

“I studied at Nancy’s,” You say. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, “Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

You nod your head, focusing your gaze onto the floor, “It was nice, actually. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.”

“Now when you say studying…” He trails off for a moment as he thinks, “You two didn’t… exchange notes about me or anything, did you?”

Steve’s growing smirk makes you laugh; you hit him playfully with the towel, “No! And I haven’t told her, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

A part of him can’t help but be relieved. There’s no limit to what you two could chat about.

“We just ended up talking about college most of the time,” You add, “She wanted to know some tips since she’ll be applying soon.”

Steve grabs a plate to dry; in order to try and quell his anxiety, he has to do something productive. But your mind recognizes it as a distraction - you’re no stranger to coping mechanisms. 

“Have you figured out where you’re gonna go yet?” He questions, praying your answer isn’t far; lightning flashes outside the kitchen window, followed closely by the low rumble of thunder. 

You sigh as you lean back against the counter, “I’m not sure. Nancy was helping me talk through my options earlier, but it’s such a big decision to make. I wanna make sure it’s the right fit.”

Steve nods slightly, forehead creasing as he wipes his hands on the towel. And by the way he clenches his jaw at your reply, you know that this is the source of contention. 

You nudge his leg with your foot, “What about you? Get any responses back?”

The breath hitches in Steve’s throat; there’s no way this conversation doesn’t end with his reveal. The longer it takes for him to speak, the more concerned you grow. 

“I, uh-“ A sigh passes his lips as he grips the counter, keeping his focus away from you. He doesn’t want to witness your reaction. 

“I didn’t get in,” Steve mutters. He exhales, shaking his head in disbelief; until now, it almost didn’t seem real. It took admitting it to you for his brain to accept it. 

You shift on your feet, unsure of what to say. Over the past few weeks, you and Steve had been discussing how your relationship would persist once you both had made your college commitments. This wasn’t an outcome either of you prepared for. 

“Holy shit, Steve. I’m sorry…” You whisper. Steve pushes his face into his hands; his voice is muffled from behind his palms, “Yeah, yeah… holy shit.” 

You don’t hesitate any more to comfort him. Steve straightens as you place your hands on his arms; he melts into your touch, unable to prevent you from turning his body to face yours. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” You reassure him, “College isn’t the only option, you know. There are other things you could do.” 

The expression on Steve’s face breaks your heart. You’d do anything to wipe it away and brighten his mood. But Steve just sighs again, appreciating your efforts to help him, but nothing seems to be working. 

“How���d your parents react?” You ask. The only thing keeping Steve grounded to this moment is the firm grip you have on his shoulders; he thinks he’d float away without it. 

He scoffs a bit; the sound breaks the deafening silence that formed as he thought of a response. His eyes are still focused downwards as he finally answers you, “They don’t know yet. I just got the last letter today. I couldn’t think of going anywhere else.”

When your fingers brush against his cheek, Steve instinctively moves his hands to rest on your waist, “I’m sorry, I just-”

Steve finally lifts his head. Your eyes are wide, pupils filled to the brim with nothing but your fondness for him. All of a sudden, he’s confused why he was so scared to tell you. He realizes that he never should’ve doubted you. 

“I was scared this would change things. Or that you’d be disappointed in me or some shit.”

Your brow furrows as you laugh softly - baffled by his words, “What could ever make you think that I’d be disappointed in you?” 

A flash of previous memories answers your own question. You decide not to pull on that thread anymore. 

“This changes things,” You mutter. Your eyeline drops as you pause, choosing your words carefully before continuing, “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Finally, Steve feels a bit of relief. The sincerity in your voice calms the fear, and a deep exhale allows him to let it go. Your compassion and understanding permits him to begin thinking clearly again. He knew there was a reason he came here. 

You’re right though. This does change how you both navigate the future. But with you here to support him, Steve figures he’ll be just fine. 

“I mean…” The corner of your mouth curls up at the thought that pops into your head, “The only way my opinion of you changes is if you killed my brother or something like that.”

Steve chuckles slightly, “But Mike’s still fair game?”

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” You quip, “He’s had it comin’ for a while.” 

Even though your voices are hushed, the joke still makes you crack a pair of brilliant smiles; it almost makes Steve forget about his future for a moment. Standing here in your arms, Steve can’t help but realize how safe he feels. 

And then you sigh, reaching up to brush back a lock of his brunette hair - the sensation of your touch fills Steve with something new, something different. A direct contrast to the violent storm brewing outside, this is soft, warm, and golden. Like daylight.

Your eyes meet again. Honestly, he’s not sure he ever wants to look at anything else. 

Your hand lands on his chest, “This doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Steve throws caution to the wind - he kisses you. And already, you can tell that this is one you’ll remember. His lips are soft against yours, but without sacrificing an ounce of passion. You almost forget that someone could walk in and expose your relationship; when Steve finally pulls away, it doesn’t matter anyways.

As if you weren’t left breathless enough from his kiss, the words he mutters afterwards could’ve done it themselves. 

With one of his trademark smirks plastered across his face, Steve moves to hold your head between his palms, “Fuck, I love you.”

You kiss him again so quickly that you both didn’t have enough time to wipe the twinkling grins from your lips. Your noses are squished against each other, but neither of you cares enough. Your shared love dulls the pain. 

Steve smiles into the kiss even further. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

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[b0ba-chan]

hq x hozier

summary: hq boys as hozier lyrics

pairings: atsumu x reader, semi x reader, ushijima x reader, matsukawa x reader, suna x reader

word count: 1503 

warning: choking, overstim, drugs

author’s notes: i love hozier hehe

buy me boba?

𝔪. 𝔞𝔱𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔲

imagine being loved by me!

i won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things that we'd do

so I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you 

- talk

atsumu walked up to you, holding two glasses of water so you can hydrate yourself over a crying session. your boyfriend had cheated on you yet again and the only person who would comfort you rather than scold you would be atsumu. he didn’t seem like the person, but he was great at comfort, telling you what you need to hear in the gentlest ways possible. his shoulder was still soaked from your tears. the blond sits next to you, watching you stare off with puffy eyes.

“come ‘ere, lets watch a movie.” he sighs and opens his arm, heart hurting to see you in such pain. he starts howl’s moving castle, holding you as you immerse yourself in the colorful movie. fingers were treading through your hair as you two watch and your giggle slightly shocks atsumu.

“if you would grow out your hair, you’d look like howl.” you hum and look up at him, eyes still red but cleared from tears. the man smiles a bit and mindlessly cuffs your cheek with his free hand. shock runs through you as he leans in, but not moving away from him at all. “you know he doesn’t deserve you.”

your breath hitches as his thumb caresses your cheek bone, feeling tears trickle from your eyes. “i’m sorry.” he mumbles. “i can’t hold back anymore. been waiting too long.” atsumu leans in and pulls you into a deep kiss. without hesitation, you kiss back, feeling like this is all atsumu has to do to get rid of your problems. the lip lock got intense as it continue on, neither one of you wanting to end it yet. he was on top of you, crotch pressed against yours as his hands start to wander under your shirt, feeling up your skin. he pulls back a bit, a trail of spit connecting your mouths. “can we continue? been waiting for this for too long.”

𝔰. 𝔢𝔦𝔱𝔞

ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay?

ain't you my baby? ain't you my baby?

nothing fucks with my baby

nothing can get a look in on my baby 

- NFWMB

you grip the sheets tight, squealing into the sheeks and eita smacks your ass. tears soak the pillow as you tremble under your boyfriend, begging him that it’s too much for you to handle. after going to one of his gigs, he couldn’t help to get jealous when he sees you get sweet talked by his bandmates. it took him all his power to hold back his jealousy until you two got back to the apartment. it was in a blink of an eye when he got you into bed, not holding back on his thrusts no matter how many times you came. 

“e-eita! oh god!” you gasp as he lifts your hips higher as he digs deeper into your cunt. his cock kept brushing up against your cervix over and over again, leaving you a drooling mess.

“cmon, who do you belong to? let everyone know, baby.” he grunts, licking his lips as sweat drips down his face. you sob and mewl, not being able to say anything as your mind jumbles every word you can think of. eita���s hand grips your hair and tugs you off the pillow, rolling his eyes as you babble and mewl. “i asked you a question, you have to answer me.”

“you! eita!” you garble out as he continues to keep a firm grip on your hair, shivering as his teeth brush your shoulder. he sucks a dark hickey and biting, making sure to make an indent into your skin. “that’s right. only mine, baby.”

𝔲. 𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦

'cause my baby's sweet as can be

she give me toothaches just from kissin' me

no grave can hold my body down

i'll crawl home to her

- work song

you slept soundly as the morning light poured from the half opened blinds. ushijima had an uncharacteristically small smile painted on his face as his hand lightly traces the dark hickies on your back. he had just come back home from a long term poland trip to play for their team and facetime calls weren’t the same especially with time differences. he didn’t want to say it outloud but he was scared this trip would’ve deter you from him. but alas you were still in bed when he came home. 

as you shift awake, his smile falls but continues to race the hickies the decorated your skin like the constellations in the sky. you hum and smile up at him, rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. “good morning, toshi.”

your hand reaches out to cuff his cheek, giving him a short yet soft kiss. he flash of disappointment shoots in his eyes and you laugh at the bigger man. “let me brush my teeth first, you big baby.” you laugh and try to sit up, but he pulls you back onto his chest. you let out a small huff and feel his lips back on yours.

you didn’t fight back, letting him indulge in your lips. your hands massage the back of his head as his grip on your waist get tighter. as you pull away again, he chases after you lips to pepper them with kisses. your laugh echoes the quiet room, trying to shove him away. “let me go!” he shakes his head and snuggles into your neck. 

it was quiet as you sat on his lap, petting his hair until he broke the silence. “i missed you.” toshi mumbles into your neck, ignore your laughing and teasing. 

“i missed you, too, toshi. i’m glad you’re back.”

“i’ll always come back for you.”

𝔪. 𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔦

she tells me “worship in the bedroom”

the only heaven I’ll be sent to

is when I’m alone with you

- take me to church

“issei, so good.” you sigh softly, biting your lip as his hips rolled slowly up into you. his mouth never left your throat, placing soft kisses on the bare skin. you bounced on his cock, moaning as you throw your head back when he hit your cervix. “gorgeous, c’mon keep going.”

you nod weakly and keep bouncing, thighs shaking from exhaustion. but you trek on anyways, bouncing to please your boyfriend since that’s the least you can do when he has made you cum multiple times already. his hand trails up your stomach as you bounced, other hand holding your hip to help you bounce. issei thumbs at your perky nipples, smirking against your neck as you whine loud and grind down harder on his dick.

“perfect, little girl, my angel.” issei pulls away to watch you work yourself on his cock. his finger continues to tease your nipples, pinching and squeezing. you start to drool as he showers you in praise, mind going mushy when no words can leave your mouth. his hand comes up to wrap around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. you let out a tiny gasp, rutting down hard. “go on and cum angel. you look so good getting ruined by my cock.”

𝔰. 𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲

i will not ask you where you came from

i will not ask you, neither should you

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

we should just kiss like real people do

- like real people do

the heavy smoke looms through the air, your legs thrown over rintarou’s lap as you felt his hands wander over your thighs. you took another drag, smiling lazily at each other as he kisses your forehead. it had been a long week for the both of you two, and being very close roommates, a smoke session felt like the best thing to do in the moment. neither of you talked about what happened, only basking in each other’s touch, trying to convince each other it was simply platonic. 

all the kisses that avoided the lips and the hugs shared when either of you were having a bad day were nothing more than just friends being friends. the most mouth contact was shotgunning, but the both of you brush it off as a more efficient and fun way to smoke. but it hurt to know that one another could have anyone but each other, assuming that the other does not feel the same. patterned were being traced on your skin as you passed the blunt on to him. 

he glances down at you and cuffs your cheek. without thinking, you leaned in to kiss him and not minding the long drawl of the kiss. he nibbles your bottom lip as you giggle pulling away to exhale the smoke. you looked confused as nothing comes out of your mouth. 

“you forgot to smoke, dumbdumb.”

he rolls your eyes and puts the blunt out, cuffing your cheeks to pull your face close to his. “i forgot nothing.”

[thatesqcrush]

Retrouvaille

Rafael Barba x Reader. For @barbasimp - winner of Holiday Bingo. Prompt: Maybe a fic where Rafael and the reader were a thing before he left new york after the incident, but when he comes back he sees how close Carisi and the reader are and gets HELLA JEALOUS.

AN: This takes immediately during 22x04, “Sightless in a Savage Land.”  Script found here.  Coffee reference (above and in the fic - from 19x9, Gone Baby Gone.

AN2: Using “Sway” by The Kooks for VDay bingo. Lyrics denoted in bold.

AN3: Retrouvaille is a French word meaning rediscovery - the happiness of meeting or finding someone after a long separation. 

Warnings: language & smut (p in v sex, implied cunnilingus).  WC: 3.3K

****

To say you were anxious was an understatement; your leg bounced restlessly as you and your Captain sat in the diner. It had been unbearably cold and despite still wearing your parka and the hot cup of coffee in front of you, you could not warm up.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Olivia replied as she poured some milk into her coffee. She stirred the coffee with one hand and reached out to grab your hand from across with the other. “You don’t have to be here.”

“Nope, I am good.” You replied coolly, your lips emphasizing the ‘p’ sound. You looked out the window, watching the people mill about on the street. A blast of cold breezed through the diner. You looked past Olivia and you felt your stomach flop at the sight of the man approaching the booth. You stood and switched sides of your seat, choosing to sit next to Olivia.

The last time you saw Rafael Barba, he was worn and depressed, with tears lining his eyes as he stood in front of the courthouse. It was there he poured his love for you making your heart swell before he shattered it into a million pieces as he broke things off with you. You were a wreck after, to the point you needed to take time off to get your affairs back in order. The apartment you shared with him was no longer your safe space  and no longer inhabitable. Rafael told you to keep the engagement ring. You took it off that night and left it in a lock box at your bank. Photos of you and him during happier times were taken down from your locker and tossed in the trash. Plans for the future - for a shared life together were gone, like a sandcastle being washed away by the sea.

Now Rafael appeared just as handsome as he did all those years ago. His hair was a more pronounced shade of salt and pepper and instead of being clean shaven, a beard graced his face. The infamous camel pea coat was swapped out for a grey one. Instead of a three piece bespoke suit under it, he wore dark jeans and a blue and pink checkered shirt. He turned to the counter and requested a coffee before he sat down in front of you. 

“Barba.” You greeted, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Olivia!” Rafael replied brightly. He shrugged his coat off and looked at you. “Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”

You didn’t reply, instead choosing to sip your coffee once more. Rafael shifted in his seat and looked at Olivia. “So--”

“Liv’s said you’ve been busy.” You spoke, cutting him off. “What have you been up to?” 

You knew Rafael had kept in touch with Olivia. She had mentioned Rafael here and there in conversation with you and the squad.

You knew Mickey Davis deserved a good defense. You were, however, caught off guard when Olivia suggested that perhaps Rafael could help secure a deal. You didn’t even know he was back in New York.

“Consulting with the Innocence Project, defending voting rights on the ground. I've barely slept since the election ended.”

“Liv said once everything cleared up, you might consider doing defense work.” You continued. 

“Her case or Fin’s?” Barba asked. 

“The city settled one of Fin’s. Liv's still waiting on her day in the barrel, but that's not why we're here. 

“It should be -- sorry.” Rafael shrugged, looking at Olivia. 

Olivia gave Rafael a small smile. “Hypothetically, if we... arrested a defendant who was not innocent…”

“Decorated vet. Six tours in Afghanistan. Comes home to find his daughter raped by her foster father--” You interjected. 

“And he shoots the guy point-blank range three times?” Rafael questioned. Both you and Olivia give him a pointed look. “Hypothetically.”

“So you're all caught up.” Olivia replied, now picking up her own cup.

“All right, hold on.” Rafael shook his head. “Did Carisi ask you to intervene on Davis' behalf?”

“Well, actually, Carisi doesn't know that we're here.” You murmured.

Rafael laughed. “Of course not. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“We wanted to see if you would feel him out. And see if he would cut Mickey a deal.” Olivia continued.

“With Carisi's stomach? He won't have the stomach to take this to trial.” Rafael rolled his eyes. “This case is a dog.”

“Really? Some mentor you are. Not even believing in your protege.” You sneered.

Rafael cocked a brow at you while Liv put a hand on your shoulder, in an attempt to comfort you. You jerked your shoulder away from her, and stood. You tossed some bills onto the table. 

“Sorry, Liv. I thought I could handle this. But I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You heard Liv call out your name as you stormed out of the diner, but not once did you look back.

Rafael looked at Liv, a frown on his face. “Honestly, I am surprised she didn’t leave sooner.” 

***

You and Phoebe were watching through the double-mirror in the squadroom as Kat and Rollins interrogated a suspect. Phoebe watched as Carisi approached you and she tapped your shoulder, nodding towards him. 

You looked over at Carisi and smiled. “How did voire dire go?”

Carisi sighed, crossing his arms. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”

“He was always a dog with a bone.” You replied. “Walk with me to my desk. I am gonna order some Chinese.”

“I gotta know, Y/N. I saw Barba’s witness list, and he tracked down Ajay's other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”

“I can’t say but know that I am not helping him out.” You hissed in a whisper.

Carisi huffed. “It's fine. Barba was here before me. He was your--”

You held up a hand. “No! That doesn't mean I'm more loyal to him than I am to you. You forget - he broke up with me. He wanted nothing to do with me. Why should I help him?”

Carisi’s ears turned pink and when saw the broken look on your face, he felt shitty. “Y/N, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “Dinners on you Mr. ADA and all will be forgiven.”

***

When Rafael entered the squadroom, it was late - he did not expect to see you. But there you were, Carisi perched on the corner of your desk, laughing. Seeing you and Carisi together like that - his jealousy flared and he wondered if there was something more than friendship going on. You plucked food out of the takeout container and offered Carisi a bite. You grabbed a napkin and reached up to Carisi’s face and you were about to say something when you spotted Rafael. Your laughter subsided and you smacked Carisi on the knee and pointed to Rafael. As he made way to your desk, you murmured something to Carisi and made a beeline to the locker room, dropping your food on your desk, causing it to spill a bit. The chopsticks fell to the ground with a clatter.

Rafael paused mid-stride and turned to follow, when Carisi approached him and blocked his path. “Barba, I don’t know why you’re here, but leave Y/N alone.”

“Is there a problem Carisi?”

Carisi jutted his jaw, clearly displeased. “Just leave Y/N alone - you hurt her. I know you never meant to. Don’t make it worse.”

“I came here to talk to her. That’s all.” Rafael huffed, before pushing past the young attorney to follow you, much to Carisi’s protests. 

**

You sat on the bench in front of your locker, crying. You dropped your head in your hands, your body shaking. You heard the sound of footsteps and you stood up, wiping your eyes. 

“Y/N.” Rafael’s voice was dark and deep, and hearing your name escape his lips sent shivers down your spine.

“Rafael! What are you doing here? Y’know you’re really not supposed to be back here!” You hissed, dabbing your eyes once more with your sleeves. 

“I wanted to check in with you.”

“Why? You’re not my boyfriend anymore.” You replied, as you grabbed your belongings. You slammed your locker shut, the metal clanging sound echoed. 

There was another sound of footsteps. Now it was Carisi who arrived. “Y/N, you okay?”

You looked at Carisi. ‘I’m fine. I’ll be out in just a bit.” Carisi nodded and made his way back out. 

You adjusted the strap of your bag. “Move.”

“No, I’m not your boyfriend anymore.” Rafael agreed, but not moving. You stepped to the side and Rafael followed your movement, blocking your way.

“Move.” You commanded. “Now.”

When he did not budge, you let out an exasperated sigh. “Say whatever you have to say. Get it out.”

“I just wanted to say I am sorry for everything. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Rafael replied.

“Suddenly you care? Please, I have plenty of people in my life who have taken an active role in that. I have gotten by just fine since you left.”

“Who? Carisi? Trading in one lawyer for another? You got a kink or something?" Rafael replied haughtily. 

You snorted in derision. “You know what, you can go fuck right off.” You pushed past him and Rafael grabbed your wrist and pulled you flush to him. Rafael met your eyes, they were puffy and red from you crying. 

“What are you--” You began, but Rafael crushed his lips against yours. You were initially stiff, but you relaxed into his embrace, allowing for the kiss to happen. You let out a soft moan and Rafael used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, by sliding his tongue into yours. Rafael wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck, dropping your purse to the ground.

“I love ya.” Rafael rumbled into your ear before dipping his head to your neckline, sucking a mark that you knew you would not be able to hide.

At his words, you pushed Rafael away. “What the fuck? You can’t just barge back into New York, into my life, say that you still love me and expect me to forgive you on the spot!” You were angry, there was a fire in your eyes that Rafael had been at the end of before, and he dropped his head, shamed. He took a seat on the bench and you followed suit, sitting next to him. “Me, the squad… that was always your M.O. - take whatever you want to take - to hurt the ones you love. You never thought about the consequences of your actions on others - nevermind baby Drew.”

“I know. I am an asshole.  I know this is the wrong time and the wrong place but I had to tell you. I love you. And I regret the way I left things with you. And if you tell me you don’t love me - that you still don’t feel the same way - I’ll leave. After the case - you’ll never hear from me or see me again.”

Deep down you knew you still loved Rafael. You had always loved him. You didn’t initially understand why he did what he did with baby Drew or why he left, but with therapy, time, and deep talks with Liv, you understood. It didn’t mean you weren’t angry - you were - but you could see why Rafael felt he had no choice but to leave.

“I need your heart. I need your soul. And getting over you was the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do.” You replied, not answering his question. Your breath was still uneven from the tears you shed. You were worn and all you wanted to do was go home. You stood and slung your purse over your shoulder. “I am going home. Figure your shit out but don’t expect me to wait around.”

Carisi watched as you stormed away, with Rafael trailing behind you. He was going to say something but he noticed how Rafael allowed for the space between you and him to grow. 

***

The following morning you were getting ready for the day as usual. Coffee was brewing, music was blasting, you were digging around for some clean clothes. There was a staccato knock on the door. You ignored it and found a shirt from the pile of clothes and sniffed it.

There was a second knock, this time louder than first. “I am coming!” You shouted as you tugged your shirt on. You huffed as you marched to the door before tripping over a stack of books that you were planning on donating to your neighborhood library.

You swore loudly and hobbled over to the door. Swinging it open, you all but shouted, “What do you wa--”

On the other side was Rafael. Holding a tray of coffee and a paper bag, that you presumed were some kind of sweets. “I know I am the last person you want to see. I don’t know what to do. Um… do you want some coffee?”

You wrinkled your nose, but you took a step forward and plucked the pastry bag from his grasp. You opened it and inhaled the fresh pastries; your stomach rumbled in response. You reached in and grabbed a honeybun. 

“Come in.” You waved him in before taking a bite of the sticky pastry. Sorry it’s not more neat.”

Rafael made his way in. You entered your apartment, turning the lights on as you made your way in. 

“It’s fine.” Rafael replied as he took in your new-to-him space. There were elements that reminded him of your time together, but it was more uniquely you than anything else.

“You said something yesterday that has stayed in my mind all night long.” Rafael sat down on your couch. 

“Yeah? And what’s that?” You asked, taking a seat across from him. You reached over and plucked the two coffees from 

“I need your heart. I need your soul. All this time away from you has made me realize that. I am sorry for hurting you - for even breaking things off the way I did.” He confessed. “But then I realized, I couldn’t do it. All this time… I still love you.”

You didn’t respond and Rafael felt his heart sink. His stomach knotted and he thought he would throw up. 

You were quiet when you finally did speak. “I still love you too.”

Rafael looked at you, a huge grin on his face. He was overjoyed to hear your proclamation. “So now what?”

You furrowed your brows and an idea came to you, your face brightening. “I suppose we’re due for some makeup sex.”

Rafael blinked. “What?”

You stood up and tugged off your top. “Look, I don’t know about you - but it’s been awhile and I have needs. Are you complaining?”

Rafael stood, shrugging off his coat and also making quick removal of his clothes. “No, not at all. Just not what I expected to happen.”

You were down to your panties. “Just gotta make one call.” Rafael nodded, continuing to undress. You grabbed your phone and called Liv. “Hey, Liv - personal emergency, I won’t be able to make it - no everything will be fine - no you don’t need to come by. I’ll make it up. Thanks.”

You tossed your phone onto the couch and stretched out your hand. “Come on.”

**

Rafael groaned as he pounded into you with punctuated thrusts. You grabbed the sheets desperately as pleasure coursed your body. Being reunited with Rafael was almost too much - no one ever fucked you as well as he did - and no one ever made you feel complete as he did. Rafael pushed your knee higher, changing the angle. His cock hit you at a new angle and you cried out.

“Oh fuck, fuck, yes, just like that!” Your back arched slightly. He dropped his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as he slid his tongue into yours. Rafael quickened his pace and you snaked your hand between your bodies to rub your clit. 

“Gonna… fuck… gonna come…” Rafael groaned. 

“Come for me, give it to me.” You panted. “Need it. Need you.”

Rafael stiffened, groaning your name as he came, filling the condom you insisted he wear for the time being. You continued to rub with one hand as your orgasm approached, you used your other hand to grip his arm tightly. You threw your head back as you cried out Rafael’s name as your orgasm peaked and washed over you. 

Rafael pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead as your body grew slack. He removed himself and rolled his body off yours. He removed the condom, tying it in a knot before disposing it into the trash bin at the foot of your bed. Rafael rejoined you in the bed and you curled into his embrace.

You stroked his chest softly, running the tips of your fingers through his chest hair. “We have a lot to work on.”

Rafael grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I know, hermosa.”

You looked up at him. “For us to work - it’s going to take time. We have a lot to work on - a lot to unpack.”

“As long as it takes. I don’t want to lose you again.”

You propped yourself up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, since we have so much time ahead of us now… why don’t we make up for lost time?” 

Rafael arched his brow and you squealed as he pulled you up on top of him.He kissed you deeply and rolled you onto your back once more. He began to press kisses along your body, shimmying down. 

He got to the apex of your thighs and spread your legs. You met his eyes and he winked before dropping his mouth to you again.

FIN.

***

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[luminouspoes]

let my heart be your shelter

summary: poe seeks out the reader’s comfort during a thunderstorm

warnings: angst (with a happy ending), poe has a guilt complex the size of several parsecs, some self loathing (poe’s pov). no pronouns are used for the reader.

read on ao3

It’s too much.

Poe wakes up and his bedroom is entirely too small and too dark, and he can hear the echoes of bombers and X-Wings and transport ships turning to dust in between the cracks of lightning that slice through the Ajan Kloss’ night sky.

He’s barely aware of his own movements, his mind racing and churning as a sense of overwhelming emotion and a dash of panic clutches tightly in his chest, eyes burning as one thought runs over his head over and over again: my fault, all my fault.

Poe stumbles out of bed, almost tripping on the thin blanket. His bare feet shuffle across the cold floor, out of his quarters and into the hallway, the fear still suffocating him.

The Resistance was decimated because of him, there was more blood on his hands than he ever wanted, and he’d let down the one person who mattered the most to him, who guided him out of some of the darkest parts of his life, gave him the purpose he’d been seeking his whole life.

Leia forgave him, told him as many times as he needed to hear it. The Resistance backed him on Ryloth’s moon. But Poe can’t forgive himself, can’t stop hearing those screams, can’t stop -

He’s just a soldier, just a pilot, he’s nothing. He’s made so many mistakes and he doesn’t deserve the faith Leia has in him, doesn’t deserve the praise and kindness from everyone else, can’t they see?

He’s fading away; there’s no excitement in flight anymore. He’s shorter now, he knows, more easily frustrated. Terrified out of his mind that this is all for nothing, that they’re one bad day - one mistake, one more failure - away from being snuffed out for good.

Poe Dameron can barely recognize himself anymore. He wonders where the Resistance’s best pilot went, the one who could take everything in stride with a charming smile and a quick joke. Everything’s easy for Poe Dameron, right?

He can’t even pretend anymore. He’s so damn exhausted. 

His feet stop moving and he realizes he’s gone to your quarters automatically. There’s a hint of light piercing out from underneath, so before he can think better of it, Poe knocks on the door. He knows the code to your room - has it memorized better than his own - but he doesn’t just want to spring in on you unannounced.

The door slides open a second later, you on the other side. You’re in your night clothes, your holopad clutched under your arm and he figures he interrupted your nightly habit of reading before bed. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, he flinches when another roll of thunder cracks across the sky - another X-Wing down, another death on my hands - and you immediately reach for him, concern knitting your brow together.

He wants to tell you it’s alright, but he can’t find the words. You gently guide him inside the room, closing the door behind him and toss aside the holopad before you return to him. You hesitate, unsure if he’s okay with being touched right now. Poe manages a quick nod and you place your hand on his biceps.

“What is it tonight?” You ask quietly, eyes filled with so much gentleness that it nearly shatters him because he doesn’t deserve this kindness, don’t you understand that?

“Everything.” Poe wants to close his eyes because he’s so damn tired, but he’s afraid if he does he’ll just see more fire and more death. He’s not sure he can handle another memory.

“What can I do?” Your grip on him tightens, grows more firm as a rush of protectiveness surges through you, recognizing the look written on his face: the guilt, the regret. The way it’s been eating away at him, til the point that he’s barely the same man you met when you first joined the Resistance.

It kills you, seeing how this war has taken so much from him. Your chest aches at the thought of it, your eyes burning with unshed tears, and if you could you would tear down the First Order with your own two hands for taking this man who was once a brilliant, blazing sun and draining his light and fire.

But what was worse was having the knowledge that the haunted look in his eyes was from his own guilt, how he blamed himself for where the Resistance was now, no matter how many times everyone tried to assuage that guilt. The fear of letting Leia down again was a constant weight on his shoulders, and it was agonizing to know there was nothing you could do to prove to him that he was more than what he feared.

“I -” his voice cracks and you don’t even wait now, you pull him to you and he melts instantly, shoulders shaking as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You feel the shoulder of your shirt grow wet as you rub soothing circles against his back, your own tears spilling down your cheeks because you hate this, because you can have his back when he’s out in the field but how can you save someone from inner turmoil and self-hatred?

How can you make someone realize they’re so loved when they don’t think they deserve it?

After a few beats, Poe’s shoulders still and you pull back slowly - so he knows you’re not going far and that if he needs to, he can stop you - to get a glimpse at him. His eyes red-rimmed, eyes dark without so much as a shine to them. You miss how easily he used to smile, how happy he used to be.

Maker, you’d do anything to see him that way again. You’d cross the whole galaxy, turn back time, fistfight Kylo Ren himself if needed, just to bring that smile back.

Poe breathes out your name, bringing you out of your reverie. He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone, swiping away your tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and something inside you snaps.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, drawing it away from your face so that you can press a kiss to the center of his palm, “No.”

You close his fist, bring it up to your lips and press more kisses to his knuckles and say it again, more firmly: “No.”

When you finally meet his gaze again, his eyebrows are drawn up together, his lips parted somewhat. You step forward, cupping his face with your hands, and you press a kiss to his right cheek, then his left, and then it’s all bubbling up over the surface and you can’t stop raining kisses along every part of him you can reach: his brow, his eyelids, the corner of his mouth -

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you enunciate each word with another peppered kiss, drawing back when the only place left for you to kiss is his lips. “You are so good.” Your hands are trembling now, to the point that Poe reaches up with his own to take your wrists to steady them.

His mouth twitches as he inhales sharply, trying to gather the words. “I’m not, though. Everyone keeps saying that I am, but - we’re in this mess because of -”

“We’re in this mess because of the First Order,” your voice is sharper than you intend for it, but Poe barely reacts to it. “Not because of you. You made a mistake, you failed a couple of times, sure. But don’t you ever fucking lose sight of who put us here. You didn’t destroy our fleet, you didn’t destroy the Hosnian System, those -” your vision blurs, your voice cracks and there’s so much emotion roaring through your chest you’re surprised there’s even room for breath - “those beasts are to blame for all this, not you. Never you.”

Silence falls between you as your chest heaves. Thunder rumbles distantly, but it’s muffled in comparison to the way your heart drums out a tattoo against your ribcage as you realize neither of you have let go of the other yet.

“Why do you believe in me so much?” Poe asks.

“Because you’ve never given me a reason not to.”

Something shifts in his expression now and he takes a quiet step forward, closing the rest of the gap between you. “I can think of plenty of reasons you could hold against me.”

You shake your head just slightly, a quick dismissal. “You’re more than what you believe you are, Poe Dameron.”

His dark eyes search your face for a second and just as you start to question whether or not there’s a spark building in them again, he presses his lips to yours, one hand moving up to cup your cheek, his calloused fingertips feather-light against your skin.

You freeze against his touch and before you can properly register what’s happening, he’s pulled away with a panicked expression. He opens his mouth, presumably to give another apology, but you cut him off by grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him down to capture his lips with your own for a second time.

He wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you close to his chest, as you memorize the feel of his mouth against yours, his stubble brushing against your skin, and then as you slide your hands up into his hair, what it’s like to card your fingers in his curls.

You’re determined to show him what he can’t believe, so when you pull away for breath, you immediately press quick kisses to the corner of his mouth, his jawline, his neck, then back up to press another kiss to his lips, gentler this time.

You take a step forward and guide him backwards to the mattress, not breaking the kiss until he almost trips on a blanket and you snatch your hands out to steady him before he can fall on his ass. “You okay?” You ask and you can’t quite recognize your own voice.

His cheeks are darker than usual when he replies, “Yeah. No. I don’t know -” he shakes his head, sits down on the mattress. You hang where you’re at for a second, standing over him a couple inches away, rocking back and forth on your heels.

The kiss wasn’t too much of a surprise — there was always something undefinable between the two of you, there was no right term for the bond you shared, just...that it was a bond, constantly shifting, full of devotion and loyalty and fierce protectiveness for the other — but you can’t help but feel self-conscious about what just transpired, even though rationally, you know that’s not as important as the reason he came here in the first place.

Poe looks up at you and, as if he read your mind, whispers, “Not about that. That was…” his lips quirk upward slightly, not quite a full smile — not that broad grin you fell in love with — but it’s more than you’ve seen from him in such a long time that you feel like you just watched a sunrise for the first time in months. “That was great.”

You smile and cross the room to him, sinking down next to him. “So what is it?”

Poe closes his eyes and exhales slowly, when he opens them, you can see the fear in them. “Do you really believe I’m a good man?”

You open your mouth to reply of course, but you hesitate. It’s not that you don’t believe he’s a good man, you know that in your bones, but the trouble is that he doesn’t. You can tell him as many times as you want that you believe he’s a good man, you can kiss him until the sun comes up to show him how much he’s loved, but -

But he’s drowning in the fear that he isn’t, and sometimes when you’re that far beneath the surface, it takes more than just someone telling you they believe in you to make a difference, as horrible and terrifying as that is.

So, instead, you reach forward and push back a strand of curls from his forehead, linger slightly where you remember finding a bruise blooming after he returned from being held aboard the Finalizer. You meet his eyes, see the trepidation in them, and you make sure your voice is firm and certain but gentle when you answer him, “I think that you try to be, and I think that’s probably the point. Everything you’ve done, you’ve done because you thought it was the right, just thing, because you thought it could save people.”

“I got people hurt because of that.” Poe whispers. “I got people killed because I had to play hero.”

“Yes you did.” If he won’t mince his words, neither will you. “You were a stubborn ass who refused to listen to orders and your luck ran out. But how many people have you saved, Poe? What about on the Raddus? Who was giving us hope when we had none? That was you.” 

“My plan failed and I almost got Finn and Rose killed for it. The First Order found out because of our transport ships because I sent them into the heart of the beast -” you cut him off by pressing your palm to his lips. He raises one eyebrow in surprise.

“Our luck ran out. People got killed, yeah. Nothing’s going to change that, we can’t take it back, but you weren’t the one who shot them out of the sky, were you?” You hang your head, hand dropping from his mouth, heart seizing - wondering if he’d ever believe you.

To your surprise, Poe whispers, “I guess not.”

You snap your head back up. He doesn’t look entirely convinced by your argument, but he seems to be considering it. He looks up at you, another smile tugging on his lips. This one’s even weaker than before, but it’s a start.

The thunder has died away completely, leaving only the soft patter of the rain.

Feeling embolden, you twist and curve into him, pressing your foreheads together. He shifts to meet you, wrapping one arm around you, his hand splaying across the small of your back as you crash your lips to his again. He gently falls backwards, using his elbow to cushion the fall so it’s not terribly awkward, and your legs twist together.

You stay that way for minutes or maybe hours, parting now and then for air and a shared chuckle before melting against each other again. Eventually, you slip off of him and into the space beside him, his arm underneath you as he rolls with you to capture your lips again, this time in a quick peck. 

He looks more content now anyway, eyebrows soft as he lays on your pillow beside you. You turned off the lamp a few minutes ago after you caught him yawning for a second time, and now you were both lying underneath the same blanket, still holding onto each other - but it’s different from when you’d fallen backwards onto the mattress, then you’d clutched at each other like lifelines, now it was just adjusting to this new familiarity.

You’re curled up against his side with one hand over his heart, fingers lightly twisting around the fabric of his nightshirt as he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “Thank you,” he whispers against your hair.

“For what?”

He hesitates, like he’s not sure how to phrase what he’s thinking. Finally he lands on, “For not giving up on me, for trusting me - even when I don’t think I deserve it. Especially when I think I don’t deserve it.”

“Always, flyboy.” The nickname falls from your lips with as much affection as it did the first time you used it on him, but Poe doesn’t respond. You huff out a laugh, realizing he’s fallen asleep. You shake your head and snuggle up closer to him. Just before you close your eyes, you whisper the truth you know he doesn’t believe, “You’re the hero.”

Because heroes aren’t just daring and reckless with no sense of self-preservation: they inspire people to be heroes in their name. They find hope in the impossible and offer it to the people who’ve had everything taken away. They listen to the people most would be eager to dismiss, they’re encouraging to those around them. They fight against injustice, stand up for their beliefs, even at great personal cost.

These are all traits Poe Dameron has in spades.

So yes, you muse to yourself just before sleep claims you, he is a good man.

He always was one and he always would be one. You just hope that one day soon, he’ll come to believe it himself.