#I’ll draw them both together at some point so you can see the height difference too

[internetgiraffekid1673]

I spent the entirety of this week reading BatFam comics and it DID NOT help the brainrot go away. I’ll make an extended rambling post about it later, but for now that means it’s time for Robin #2! Have some Red Hood! No, I didn’t read any Red Hood stuff, I just have an order in my head for how I’m drawing these idiots!

Initial traces with half-baked backdrop! Sooooo, Jason has two commonly used costumes, and I think it kinda just depends on the writer which one he gets (someone tell me if there is any rhyme or reason to which one is used). And sometimes they even mix and match like giving him the full helmet, but short sleeves and a vest. I couldn’t decide which one I liked better till I drew them a couple times, so you get both! On the one hand, I really like costume number #2, since it actually HAS a Red Hood and it allows for more expressiveness in his face. But, on the other hand I also really like the long sleeves and the biker jacket look, and it makes more sense practically to wear a full headed helmet.

Make it a chibi! Here, I do any remaining stylization by using my trace as a reference for a free handed drawing. For my style, that means make them chibi and make them precious. I don’t care if he’s an angry murderer, he is also a cute baby because that’s just how I draw. This is also when I really got a feel for what it’s like to draw each costume. By the time I was done, I had made a decision.

Characterization pose! Yup, I went with Biker Red Hood. I’m a real sucker for superhero costumes that are actually just really iconic plainclothes, so a really cool custom bike helmet, cargo pants, and a leather jacket are my vibe! I might still oscillate between the two in future drawings depending on what I need for that specific one, but anything with, like, a continuity will use this Red Hood. Like in the Nightwing post, the Red Hood text is traced.

A quick note about the scars: I know Jason got dumped in the Lazarus pit, but I think even before he accumulated a billion new scars by hanging out in the League of Assassins and then being a mob boss, it probably didn’t have enough time or juice to fix his old injuries. Too much power went to fixing his brain and all the injuries accrued from clawing out of his own grave and then bumming it on the streets of Gotham. I specifically included some head trauma from Crowbar and the Batarang scar from the incident in Under The Red Hood which still haven’t read and probably won’t get to for a while. I am also an advocate for the autopsy scar if I ever draw him with that much chest showing.

Finally, I mentioned in the tags for the last post that I colored Dick a little more brown because he is Romani, and that my Jason and my Damian are also not white. I head-cannon Jason as either half Latino or half Brazilian, and I tried to reflect that here.

Nightwing Edition Here!

[allthingsfook]

hi!! if you’re still taking ships, i’d love to get one 🥰 love your writing.

i’m blonde and have bluish/grey eyes, on the chubbier/curvier side, and i’m short (it’s a struggle). i have a big outgoing personality and love to make people laugh. it never matters where i am or who im talking to, i seem to make friends everywhere! despite that, i do tend to be more of a homebody and want to spend time in peace, but i will go out and have fun too!

in my free time ill be outdoors enjoying whatever weather (i prefer rain and overcast) or i like to read. i have horses, dogs, a cat, so im outdoors a lot taking care of them! i also like to watch documentaries like murders or mysteries, or just binge some Netflix shows.

i tend to be a workaholic sometimes, i never really know when to relax. it tends to be my go-to for avoiding any issues or stress i’m having so i have friends or family remind me a lot to take it easy. I can be very stubborn and determined when i want something done.. impatient. 😂

thank you!! ❤️

Of course I’m still taking ships. I hope this one is super special for you 💗

I ship you with….

Danny 🧡🍊🏵️

For what you lack in height, Danny would make up for 😊 it’s all about balance, baby! Although, it wouldn’t be the stupid, ‘let me get that off the top shelf for you’ 🥴 more like, “I’ll help you get that off the top shelf,” then proceeds to pick you up by your hips so you can get what you need. We love a supportive and wildly sexy partner!!!

Sounds like you pack a punch in a small package! And that’s something Danny would adore! He’d fall even more head over heels for you when he sees you mingling with his friends like you’ve known them for years. The way you’d joke and banter with the rest of the guys would let him know he’d made the right choice of letting you in his life 💗

To speak to your home life, I know Danny enjoys low key nights in his beautiful house. I can picture the both of you shopping for unique pieces and creating personal art to adorn the walls. All of those elements will tie you to the home, and make those at home nights all that much more special.

Danny would love to share time with you in nature. I can see that being his peace and spending quality time with you— all the nature surrounding you, quiet bliss— that’s your home… right there with him. Funnily enough, I made a mood board with Danny as drizzle/rainy. Especially forest drizzle…. Imagine the both of you nestled in a cabin in the hills of Tennessee. A weekend getaway from all the hustle. It begins to rain in the evening, creating a haze at the floor of the woods, creeping up around the cabin. Both of you cuddle on a swing under the porch, listening to the rain paddle the roof. His cologne mixes with the dewy smell of the drizzle, how intoxicating…. I can’t even elaborate because the thought is too much for me 🤍🤍

All of the boys are such animal people. I do think Danny would love to live on a little funny farm! Look how much fun he had riding those horses a few years ago. I could see him enjoying that more often in his spare time. Picture the sunset rides you’d go on 😩😍

I was doing some research on Danny’s sign recently (idk how much you read into it or not… I’m pretty superficial with it all tbh) He’s a Capricorn and they are notorious for not knowing when to quit as well! I would certainly think that having you to come home to, Danny would know when to draw the line. As the both of you grow together, you can help each other mediate those intense work schedules. I think Danny is a big mental health advocate and takes it serious now that he sees how stressful his work life can be. I can imagine him helping you manage your stress, as you help him do the same. We don’t always realize or face the pressure we are under until someone else points it out. I just know the two of you would make it work! That could be because the both of you are very passionate and determined…. A different way to view stubborn 😉

I hope you enjoyed your ship and it finds you well. Please let me know what you think! Whether it’s your lane or not, I love to hear 🥰

[stargazer-balladeer]

S/o’s birthday but locks themselves in their rooms because they don’t feel special [Genshin Impact]

Characters Included: Aether, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya & Venti.

Notes: Ayeeee! Since it’s my birthday today, why not make this? :))) I actually got carried away 🥲 this is around 3.5k words in total. Hope ya’ll like this!

Reader’s Gender: Neutral (tho i think there’s a slight implied female hehe…)

Warning: probably some swear words here and there knowing me- and mild suggestive themes in kaeya’s part 

[albedo, scaramouche, xiao]

Aether remembers your birthday more than he knows his- like srsly, he’s the kind that remembers his s/o’s bday more than his. He’s also the kind that celebrates it privately unless you want to celebrate it with others, which he doesn’t mind. He might have a hard time deciding what kind of gift you want, but sooner or later, he already has one (or multiples bc he can’t decide-). 

Imagine his confusion when your day finally arrives but he can’t find you anywhere, even Paimon, who was excited to celebrate your bday (“oohh~ I can’t wait to eat the cake!” - Paimon), seems confused. Probably the culprit in planting worry in the travellers head as she jumps to conclusion that you might’ve been kidnapped. 

Luckily, he checked your house before he could report it to the knights of Favonius or the Qixing (like any normal person should do really-). When he received no reply, he takes out the spare key you gave him and entered your house, an invasion of privacy he knows but it's an emergency- 

Knowing that you’re in your room when he can’t find you downstairs, he knocks on your bedroom door softly while calling your name. Imagine his (and Paimon’s) relief when the door cracked open. Immediately engulfing you into a hug, he lets out a sigh of relief. He then proceeds to ask you what you were doing inside your room when it’s your birthday. His heart literally broke when you stated your reason. Tightening his hold around your figure, he smiles bitterly, knowing that feeling all too well..

“That’s not true. None of that stuff is true. Everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday, most especially you. We’ve brought some food, and cake of course. Also some gifts from other people. If you want, do you want to celebrate it with just the two, or rather three, of us?”

You, who was a literal angel in his eyes deserve the world. He honestly wants to find whoever put that idea in your head but that was reserved for another moment. For now, his main priority is your happiness. Guiding you downstairs where Paimon was (she left when aether hugged you, knowing you two needed privacy. also the cAKE-), he watches as your eyes sparkle at the sight of the cake. 

Grinning softly he made sure you had fun with your birthday. Even though it would be more fun with more people, it feels more special if it’s celebrated with just the two of you. Staring you with pure adoration as you laughed merrily at the sight of Paimon stuffing herself with food. He couldn’t help himself but lean forward to place a kiss on your forehead and then on your lips, leaning back with a smile on his face. 

“Happy birthday, my love. May many more to come. Maybe next time, we can invite other people. Though I don’t mind if we’ll celebrate it with just the two of us only-” And Paimon! Don’t forget about Paimon!” “Yes yes. And Paimon.”

Similar to Aether, he would most definitely remember your birthday. After all, it holds a special place in his heart, alongside his family. And since this boi is rich af, he would most definitely try to spoil you on your birthday. Piles of expensive (or just cheap yet meaningful) gifts, reservation to a high-class restaurant in Liyue Harbor, and all that glamour. 

Actually, he didn’t find it odd that he didn’t see you immediately, thinking that you overslept or just relaxing in your house. But he soon finds it weird when it’s already around 3 in the afternoon and no sign of your face in the crowd, something he raised a brow at but shrugged it off. It isn’t until it’s almost the time of the reservation he made when he finally realized what’s going on. 

When he arrived at your house, dressed in a suit similar to Zhongli except it’s entirely black and white, waiting for you to come out. After a couple of minutes, he soon got concerned and decided to enter your bedroom through the window (pls do not do this at home). Startled at the sudden appearance of your handsome yet cheeky boyfriend, he stares at you with eyes asking the questions he didn’t dare to tell. 

Knowing he will get his answer one way or another, you decided to tell him about your dilemma. After you finished explaining yourself, silence surrounds you, which is quite worrisome since your boyfriend is known for his rather talkative behavior. Blinking in surprise at the sudden embrace of the 11th Harbinger, his hug was rather tight but not too tight that it cuts your oxygen. Speaking in a low, faint voice, a surprising feat for him, you can make out what he said as clear as day. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve noticed it sooner. I was trying to be a perfect boyfriend for you but I guess I failed in that aspect. You know, if you feel like you aren’t special enough to celebrate your birthday, then what about me? Me who stained his hands with the red blood of his enemies, always engaging in a fight, clashing with other blades. Insecurity is really an asshole huh? Let me make it up to you now. Let’s not anymore go to that stupid high-class restaurant, c’mon, up you go. You better dressed comfortably when I come back or else…”

Leaving you quickly before coming back immediately, this time in more comfortable clothing rather than the stiff suit he wore earlier. This time as well, he entered your house normally through the door. In his arms, he was holding a bunch of stuff and proceeded to dump it on the living room table. It was different kinds of movies in different genres, you spotted some of your favorite movies in them (makes you also wonder where he got these from since you don’t remember seeing these in the room he stays-).

He would suggest making a pillow fort, and while making the pillow fort, he proceeded to smack you with one. Which ensued a pillow fight between you two. It successfully made the both of you a laughing mess by the end, filled with feathers. Childe then carries you bridal style to the incomplete pillow fort and starts the movie you chose. Placing you in his lap and placing his head either on your shoulder or head depending on your height, cuddling you from behind tightly with a contented smile on his face. 

“You know what? This might not be how I envisioned how your birthday would go, but I’m not complaining. Happy birthday, comrade. My most adorable and most cutest and only love. I love you so much that you’ll be the very reason why I die so suddenly. So stop being so cute okay?” 

(You two are living together in this one.)

Diluc has the probability of forgetting your birthday due to his busy schedule, especially if it’s starting to rise when your birthday draws near. He might neglect you for a couple of days, too engrossed in his work. When the day finally arrives, it completely leaves his mind. Like he’ll think of it as a completely ordinary working day. It isn’t until one of your friends told him to send you their birthday greetings that he remembered. And oh boy does he feel guilty, like srsly, he literally froze when he realizes what day it is today. And you know what that means? ✨Panicc✨

Honestly, I can see him buying the whole store XD. In the state of panic, his common sense just leaves him completely that he ends us buying practically the whole store. It would be sent to the Dawn Winery immediately as he buys some flowers from Flora, who also sent you her birthday greetings, which made him more guilty-

When Diluc steps foot inside the manor, he tries to search for you outside the gardens where he usually finds you but when he doesn't, he gets worried. Asking the head maid immediately about your whereabouts, and his concern and worry (and guilt) grew even more when he finds out that you haven’t gone out of your room. He quickly went to your shared room, with the flowers still in his hands, and knocked on your door. Calling your name softly and asking for permission to enter, when granted he entered the room as quickly as possible. But seeing the sight of you bundled up in your blanket made his heart crack.

Placing the flowers at the bedside table, he quickly made his way in front of you and kneeled down to meet your eye level. You can tell he was very worried about you with how frantic his eyes seem and the concern underlying it. With the way he was staring at you, you can’t help but spill your insecurity to him. The reason why you were hiding in his room rather than go out to celebrate your day of birth. Every word you spill made his heart break even more. Seeing tears started to leak from your eyes, he placed his two hands on your face wiping away the tears with his thumbs. Smiling at you gently and placing a kiss on your eyelids and on your nose.

“I completely understand, my love. Even I sometimes feel that way. Also to the point where I don’t want to celebrate my birthday even, but that won’t do my love. You are so special, you deserve your special day to be well special. If you want to simply lay here and sleep, then so be it. If you want to go out and do something, then I’ll happily oblige. Let’s obliterate those awful thoughts, and if those keep persisting, I’ll slice them up for you. I’ll keep picking you up when you fall. So, what is your command, my love?” (i'm so tempted for him to say master-)

Whatever your answer may be, one thing for sure, Diluc is seen smiling adoringly at you. Even the maids noted how soft the master is around you, particularly today. Whether curled up together in the bed, with him embracing you tightly to his chest and placing a kiss on top of your head. And if you listen carefully, you can hear him quietly humming a tune that his father (or mother) sang to him. Or you two outside in the garden, simply admiring the view with his hand around your waist. 

Either way, at the end of the day, he would wake you up or make you go inside for dinner. You haven’t eaten breakfast or lunch yet so you’re probably hungry by now. If you don’t want to leave your room or want to return to your room, he would understand and make the maids bring the food to you. When the maid(s) finally arrives with the food, you notice the cake on the tray. Looking at him as he chuckles, taking the trays from the maids. Humming a light tune, he scoops a spoonful of cake and holds it to your mouth, with a slight smirk on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Stop staring at me like that, did you really think I would let the day go by for you to not celebrate your birthday properly? From what I know, birthdays have cakes in them, whether a huge cake or a cupcake. Say ‘ahh’~... Happy birthday my love. May next year be more enjoyable than now.”

Kaeya remembers your birthday like the back of his hand, I think he’s even more excited than you really. Eagerly awaiting your birthday as he counts down the days, dropping hints and stuff to you birthday-related, and probably plans a birthday party for you. The knights immediately agreed on it, including a certain bard, traveler, and wine master (albeit more hesitantly). He made sure that this party would be successful, constantly checking on the plans and such. To the point that everyone was practically fed up with his constant questions. But they understand that he wants this to be a successful and enjoyable party for you. It got to the point where Diluc kicked him out of his Tavern after asking for the umpteenth time. 

When your day finally arrives, he was practically beaming with joy and excitement. To the point where he can’t hide it behind the cool and suave facade he wears. He quickly made his way to you, going along with the plan of distracting you as they started to prepare for the party. In his total excitement, he didn’t notice the rather gloomy atmosphere around the house. But when he arrived at your door, that is when he noticed how quiet your house is.

Now albeit worried, his excited smile slipping from his face and now replaced with a worried frown, he knocked on your door, calling you in his usual teasing voice. When he didn’t hear your response, the bubble of anxiety appeared in his body. Twisting the knob and finding it unlocked, he quietly and carefully opened the door. Seeing your back immediately, seeing your side rise and fall making him sigh in relief that you were still alive. Closing the door gently but made a noise to alert you of his presence. Taking a seat behind you, he ran his cold fingers on your back, watching you arching at the sudden coldness of his fingers. Smiling slightly, he asked what’s wrong. 

Turning around to face him, you buried your face on his chest, inhaling his strong masculine scent. Instinctively wrapping his arms around you, he played with your hair with one of his hands. Tapping on your head slightly, beckoning for you to answer his question. With no way out, you decided to come clean. You explain how you feel like you don’t feel like you deserve to be treated as special on your birthday and all that sort. His face was void of emotion as he stared at the ceiling with his unique pair of blue eyes. Outside he might seem emotionless. But inside, he was on the brink of insanity. Who dares to put such an idea on his s/o’s mind? Why would you think of that? Was this insecurity of yours also his fault?

“That must be the most stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re not special? Please. Don’t try to make me laugh with that joke ‘cause it’s not funny. You are a jewel, a star, a constellation. As rare as the gems, or rather visions. You can even rival the very sun with your smile. I know those demons in your head keep saying those words to you, the temptation is so tempting, right? Just succumbing to them to make them quiet. But that’s why I’m here, my dearest snowflake. I’m here for you. You’re so special to everyone, most especially to me. You mean the world to me. Anyway, enough of this tear-jerking stuff, we have a party to celebrate. And we can’t celebrate it without the birthday gal/guy now can we?”

Despite your protests, he lifted you effortlessly and carried you outside and into the dawn winery where the party was held. Placing you on the ground and pushing you forward where people from Mondstadt came and greeted you with happy birthdays. Smiling at the sight of you being overwhelmed at the warm greetings, and then chuckling at how bright your face became. Diluc nudges him to you, beckoning him to help you before returning to what he was previously doing (most likely trying to force a bard to not finish all the wines in the vicinity).

After a while in the party, Kaeya brings you to a secluded place with no people for air. Being in a party filled with people could be suffocating at times, especially if you’re not used to it. He intertwined his hands with yours and bends down to meet your eye level (or leans down if you have the same height as him-). He gives you a cheeky smile and proceeds to place a peck on your lips. Chuckling when you pouted and glared at him, wanting more kisses.

“My my, what a greedy vixen~ But it is indeed your birthday so I guess I have no choice but to oblige to whatever my birthday vixen wants me to do. Would you like me to strip as well? Haha. Kidding kidding. Happy birthday, princess/prince. May many more to come. Oh! I forgot. I heard from a certain birdie that you ordered for a personal performance from me~ would you like to get it now?” 

Since we all know that Venti practically doesn’t do anything like every day, I would safely say that he would remember your birthday. Probably save some mora to buy you a gift for your birthday, even though it’s not as fancy as the people in Liyue (they all rich kids-), it’s still meaningful. He probably made a bracelet all by himself with the beads he either bought or also made by himself. Nevertheless, he was as excited as Kaeya for your birthday. Already prepared songs to sing for you when that day comes. 

Venti immediately searches for you when the day finally arrives, but his excited and bright smile vanishes when he can’t find you in the crowd of people. Raising a brow at your sudden disappearance, he searched for you everywhere, the tavern, the church, the headquarters, everywhere but your house. So when he finally arrives at your house, he was filled with worry and concern. Entering your room through the window like usual, he sees your figure sitting on the floor while reading a book.

He pouted at the sight as he made his presence known by asking you why you were here and reading a book on your birthday. He watches as you jump from where you are and turns to look at him, sighing at the sight of him. He slowly made his way to you and sat next to you, his legs sprawled across the floor. He takes note of the food around you, which was non-birthday festive, it was just ordinary food. Not understanding why you’re sulking in your room, he asked you what’s wrong. 

Venti’s eyes widened at your explanation, feeling the sadness leaking at the words you said. They weave themselves around his heart, squeezing it, making him have a hard time breathing. He shares your pain. He was your soulmate after all. He immediately engulfed you in a hug, stuffing his face on the crook of your neck. You were so vulnerable in his eyes. You were so fragile. He desperately wants to protect you from the pain. But looks like he can’t protect you from your own demons. 

“Even though I promised myself to not say or do anything that’ll make you sad, I just need to get it off my chest. I’m sorry you had to suffer through that, those demons that a simple bard that weaves stories into songs can’t erase. Alright, no more feeling sorry for yourself. It’s time to get out and spend the rest of the day enjoyable, perfect for my precious Cecilia.” 

Without any warnings, he picked you up and jumped out of your window. Shrieking at the sudden fast pace, you instinctively wrapped your hands around him as he landed on the ground. Giving you a smug smile while saying “didn’t think i’d let you fall now?” Please slap him. Anyway, he laughed at your aggression and continued to run. Even if you ask where you’re going, he just says it's a secret. So might as well enjoy being in his arms as he continues to run (you swear you can feel the wind adding to his speed but that was just maybe your imagination-).

After a while, he placed you down and you realized where you are. It was Starsnatch Cliff, surrounding you were Cecilia flowers. Venti jumped on you, making you fall to the ground as he giggles. His hat flown back from the force of his sudden attack, he still has that stupid big smile on his face. Since his laughter is contagious, you couldn’t help but laugh alongside him. His eyes glistened with delight at the sight of your smile finally. Grabbing your hand and placing the bracelet he made, he pressed a kiss on your knuckle.

“This bracelet shall be a promise from me to you, a fellow bard to the fairest queen/king. I shall love you for eternity, this heart will only beat for you, and this body belongs to you. If you’re in dire need of assistance, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll be there, forever and always. Happy birthday, my sweet flower.”

[x] Main Page || [x] Mondstadt Page || [x] Fatui Harbingers Page 

[favoniuscodex]

homecoming. [kaeya x reader]

prompt: a hug one might consider to be “too long” w/ kaeya, as requested by anon pairing: kaeya x gn!reader warnings: shamelessly flirty kaeya !!! he will flirt with u !!! watch out !!! he will steal your heart !!! also... pining lol. utter fluff. songs i listened to: when he sees me from waitress word count: ~1.4k words

a/n: implied height difference between kaeya and reader. god i love kaeya. kaeya is the superior ragnvindr brother because he comes home no matter what. i love kaeya. this is now a kaeya simp blog. i love u kaeya alberich ragnvindr idfc what last name you have, i’ll make it my last name if u let me. i love u kaeya,

you and captain kaeya were merely colleagues.

you had absolutely no romantic interest in the cavalry captain whatsoever. absolutely none. if approached with such heresy, you merely gave a tightlipped grimace and a shake of your head that signaled no, absolutely not. you had a purely professional relationship with kaeya alberich, your fellow captain and knight of favonius. the two of you were jovial around each other, but to hear such rumors of the two of you being madly in love or whatever farfetched tale the fresh recruits had made up as they slacked off was nothing less than infuriating.

such trivial gossip was false. everyone had joked about how the cryo vision-wielder had used such abilities to traverse your icy personality and break through the walls that you were nearly infamous for maintaining for so long. initial annoyance at these rumors had given way to hurt, for you knew that the rumors were partially true. the two of you weren’t hopelessly in love with each other. only one of you was: you.

but quelling such romantic gossip for the sake of your pride had proved to be difficult when your supposed lover was far too willing to play along. when approached with questions about your relationship with him, kaeya would only shrug and give a knowing smirk. if you caught him on a good day, he would even pretend to mull over the question, before flashing his pearly whites and holding a single finger up to his lips in the universal sign of shhh.

sure, you and kaeya spent time together both on and off duty, but such companionship merely extended into the realm of friendship. nothing more, nothing less. the two of you trusted each other both on and off the battlefield, working together seamlessly in both combat and in drinking games. your compatibility was undeniable, so much so that even acting grand master jean had picked up on it, assigning the two of you to nearly identical missions, despite the two of you leading two different regiments.

which, of course, led to his absence as his regiment (his regiment alone, you bitterly noted) had set out to inspect an outcropping of hilichurl camps forming near stormterror’s lair. the mission ran into overtime and thoughts of the blue-haired cavalry captain plagued you to the point where even albedo, who lived by the motto of not my emotions, not my problem when it came to interpersonal relationships, had commented on how out of it you looked. you had left his laboratory in a hurry, forgetting the paperwork you had visited him for and had to do a walk of shame back into his lab. the alchemist had simply given you a knowing smirk, but upon meeting his gaze, you merely shifted yours away and left with your documents in silence.

kaeya had even sent you a completely platonic, one-hundred percent friendly letter upon the extension of his mission. in this letter, he detailed how he would miss your company and wished he had as competent of a knight as you at his side, knowing that your presence would have made the mission both go and feel so much faster than the snail’s pace it was currently moving along at. such notions are completely platonic, you tell yourself upon reading his familiar handwriting upon the paper, kaeya does not return your affections.

however, that doesn’t stop the fluttering in your heart when you realize the letter in your hands smells exactly like kaeya alberich’s aftershave, almost as if he had purposefull- archons, you interrupted yourself, dropping the letter in shock and losing track of any semblance of thoughts you had prior. did i just sniff the letter kaeya sent me? have i really fallen that low?

the days after you receive the letter, you sympathize utterly with the snail’s pace kaeya described. the slow ticking of time mocks you, as each second feels more like ten. as you look longingly outside the window of your office, you partially expect the windmills within the city to have come to a stop, as if time had frozen in kaeya’s absence. however, they continue to spin, oblivious to your woes or the longing that nearly consumes you whole as one thought echoes through your mind: you miss your partner in crime.

when news of the cavalry regiment’s arrival begins to spread throughout the knights of favonius headquarters, you are discussing your squadron’s duties with acting grand master jean. a knight interrupts your conversation to share the news with her, but jean’s eyes quickly meet yours as soon as the information is shared. she laughs lightly at your poorly disguised expression of excitement.

“you can go see him,” jean offers and your eyes widen at her words. before you can sputter out some poor excuse of how you aren’t absolutely smitten with the cavalry captain and how your soul definitely, certainly, absolutely doesn’t cry out for his, she’s waving you off with a flick of the hand. “you are dismissed. this conversation’s over. go see him, i know you want to.”

“thank you,” the words that exit your lips are nothing but sincere. as you drop the denial act for once, you feel one of many weights off your chest. the secret falls between you and jean, but based on her initial reaction, you’re already doing an absolutely awful job of hiding your feelings to begin with. you smile at her before excusing yourself and scurrying out of her office.

you walk at a brisk pace. any faster and you would draw suspicion. the rumors of you and kaeya being lovebirds would only worsen. any slower and it would seem as if you didn’t care of his return, being both an awful friend and a horrid potential lover. so, despite the way you long to break out into a sprint and run to the gates of mondstadt, you walk at a controlled pace that feels all-too-slow, just like the passage of time in his absence.

when your eyes finally spot kaeya’s figure amongst the rest of his direct subordinates, you feel a tightness in your chest and butterflies erupt in your stomach. and when your gaze finally meets your favorite shade of blue, the one that swirls and dances in his revealed iris, you can’t hold back the grin that breaks across your face. whatever conversation kaeya was having with his colleagues before ends as he stops midsentence. you watch, frozen in place, as he quickly excuses himself from the situation.

the cavalry captain’s gaze never breaks from yours as he chooses to walk over to you, walking far too fast to not raise suspicion. your feet feel like lead, far too heavy to move, as you watch him approach you. the distance closes between the two of you, yet kaeya does not halt where you expect him to finally stand still. before you can register what he’s doing, kaeya wraps his arms around you and exhales heavily.

instinctively, your arms wrap around kaeya as well and you only pray he can’t hear the blood that roars in your ears, nor feel the way your head spins from finally, finally having him back again. time is frozen once more, yet for the first time since kaeya’s departure, you wish for it to stay this way. despite his cryo vision, kaeya gives the warmest hugs and you want nothing more than to stay in this moment of intimacy forever.

as you begin to remember where you are, your eyes, which you hadn’t realized you had closed in utter contentment, flutter open and you glance around, spotting fellow knights who are staring at the two of you, whispering admirably amongst themselves. worry sets in for kaeya’s reputation. sure, you were in love with him, but he certainly wasn’t in love with you and you wished not to sully him with bothersome rumors and office gossip to deal with. so, with a heavy heart, you decide to shatter your little fantasy, leaning up to whisper in kaeya’s ear.

“kaeya,” you begin and his grip tightens around you almost imperceptibly as you utter his name. you wonder if you imagined it. “the other knights are going to gossip abought this.”

“oh?” kaeya challenges, squeezing you just a bit tighter and pulling your bodies even closer together. you feel flustered from his actions and, in such close proximity, you can smell his cologne, your face nearly buried in his chest. as you angle your head so your ear lies flat against his torso, you can hear his heart beating rapidly as kaeya murmurs his next three words.

“let them talk.”

[yandere-sins]

I’ve had this scenario in my head for awhile based on obey me’s chapter 20 when Asmo is drunk and begging the MC not to leave. I’ve always imagined an alternate scenario where the MC has to take him home and put him to bed because he’s drunk, but it’s all just an act to get the MC to have their guard down so he can grab them, mark them, and claim them. so he can prevent them from leaving the next day. (You can write this as either a scenario or your thoughts because I really just wanted to share my ideas with someone and I enjoy your characterization of him ❤️)

Ooooh, that’s a good one for Asmo, really fits him! Thanks for requesting, I am glad you enjoy my characterization ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

“Noooo~!”

A sigh fell off your lips as you had to listen to Asmo’s whining. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy having his full attention on you, all the way from Hell’s Kitchen home to the House of Lamentation. But Asmodeus was such a needy drunk that once you helped him sit down on the bed, you realized you really could need a break from his clinginess. However, he only kept grabbing on to the sleeves of your shirt, keeping you awkwardly leaning above him.

There were tears in his eyes, and you were pretty sure that even drunk, Asmodeus wouldn’t risk ruining his make-up with crocodile ones. Even if you wished he wouldn’t react so harshly to it, you kind of understood his reaction. You two had become so close over the last year, it wasn’t easy for you either to have to say goodbye to your friend, now that you had to go back to your world.

Only an hour before had he admitted that he didn’t want to lose you, and you didn’t either, but both of you knew that friendships sometimes drifted apart when there was distance between two people. At least for you, life went on, and new adventures would rise before you, and Asmo wouldn’t always be part of them. It was the painful truth that every human had to learn at some point, and it seemed to scare Asmo even more than it scared you. His life was different from this, and the unknown was something a demon didn’t deal lightly with.

“Heh, what are you thinking about?” Asmo asked, letting go of you with one hand to instead bring his finger up to draw over your features. “You’re getting wrinkles here-” he tapped your forehead, “- here-” the outer corners of your eyes,” - and here.” This time he didn’t let his finger linger as he reached your lips, instead pinching your chin and pulling you down unexpectedly, bodies colliding as he led you to his own lips.

Before you had the chance to gather your thoughts, Asmodeus flipped you two over, pinning you down as the kiss stayed locked in place. You only realized briefly that he had way too much experience when it came to laying on beds, this being a dangerous terrain in favor of your - not really - enemy on hand. Even if this wasn’t how you wanted to end things with him, you could feel the vibration in his lips, the longing, desire, fear. Asmodeus didn’t care about losing his one-night stands and flirts, but he was scared of losing you, the only one he ever let close enough to his heart to challenge him to new heights and hurt him more than insecurities ever could.

This kiss meant everything to him, even if it didn’t mean the same to you.

Even if you thought about pulling away, you weren’t in a position to easily slip out of the caress. You listened to his heavy breaths, felt the pressure of his lips doting on yours, and tasted the bittersweetness of the alcohol in the cocktails he drank. But once the initial height of the kiss passed, Asmo managed to snap back to his senses all by himself. At least, that’s what you thought when you caught his eyes as he finally opened them again. He almost seemed hurt, and by seeing your own reflection in his irises, you recognized that you didn’t seem as into what he was doing as Asmodeus was just a moment ago.

It was probably the moment he realized he had nothing to keep you by his side with. The pact you had would disappear once the year was over, you didn’t reciprocate his love the same way, and your mind was set on leaving instead of staying with him. All this was what Asmodeus could make out and seemingly hadn’t realized until right then.

“I’m sorry...” he mumbled, his eyes darkening. His hands pinning you vanished, but he couldn’t be bothered lifting his weight off your hips. “It’s okay,” you mumbled, turning your head away, unsure what to say. Part of you wanted to comfort him, but you knew it would only make it harder for you two if you reassured him now.

Asmodeus slowly folded into himself on top of you, head falling to your shoulder. For a moment, you wondered if he had just fallen asleep on top of you. But you rather quickly noticed the shaking of his body and the feeling of wet, hot tears soaking into your shirt. “What do I do?” he asked, even his sobs sounding elegant. He was pretty even when he was crying, and you couldn’t help but find that ironic. “I know I should, but I just can’t let you go...”

Raising your arm to his back, you calmly comforted him. It was hard not to join his crying, but you reckoned Asmodeus was drunk and overly emotional. You should save your tears for when the real goodbye would be and not confirm him in his fears and sadness. “I’ll come visit!” you promised, trying to sound chipper. Asmodeus, however, was quick to shake his head, muttering, “That’s not enough.”

“We can see each other on the weekends! You can come and sleep over at my place!” But even that suggestion was met with a headshake and a curt, “No.”

Sighing, you realized you were talking with a wall. It was hard enough to convince yourself everything would be alright, but he acted like a child trying to get his will.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice Asmodeus stirring on top of you. At least, not until you felt rows of teeth dig into the supple flesh between your shoulder and neck. You flinched, the pain only worsening, using your hands to shove Asmo hard, but he wouldn’t let go, as if his jaw was locked in place. “What the fuck-!” you cursed when he finally let go, sitting up straight. The sight of tears still rolling down his cheek didn’t fit the menacing or even crazed expression he had on his face, and it made your blood freeze all over as your eyes fell to his lips.

Even though he quickly licked it up, the unnerving sight of blood was enough to freak you out more. Your hand rose to the bite immediately, and as you drew it back, you clearly had the fluid smeared all over your palm. “What’s the meaning of this?!” you yelled at him, but Asmodeus remained calm, only grabbing your wrist before licking the blood off your fingers. Ceremoniously even.

“I don’t want you to leave, and I know you don’t want to leave me too,” he announced as a matter of fact.

“Well, I am sure as hell reconsidering that--” you tried to retort, but you were quickly interrupted by his face closing in only inches to you, Asmodeus eyes glowing as you realized he had involved magic in all of this. Even if his charming eye contact didn’t work on you, you could immediately feel the tingling in your hand where he had licked the blood from, and glancing at it, you saw the outlines of a pact.

“Let’s never part, okay?”

An unhinged, eery smile crossed his lips, the pact lit up as it finished, and you couldn’t think quickly enough before it settled in your palm, the permanent sigil embedded in it. Asmo sighed in satisfaction, bringing your hand to his cheek and nuzzling into your still tingling palm as you stuttered, “How could you do this?!”

“Blood magic is strong,” he chuckled. “Stronger than anything. Strong enough to go through everything, and if I unite it with my lovely magic, it’s strong enough so only one party needs to seal the deal. Lovely, isn’t it? So now we can be together forever, isn’t that what we always wanted?”

“N-No, I didn’t want it like this--” you tried to argue, but he turned his head towards you, and you froze. With streaks of blood sullying his pretty face, it suddenly made you realize that this was no lighthearted miss-step or him being silly. This had been planned, conducted, and completed. He had always wanted to bind you to him and wasn’t even bothered by how ugly it made him look - he, of all people!

“I just love you so much, you know? We have to be together, and now we can! I will always be with you!”

Leaning forward, your eyes shot to his mouth, and you could see the tiny rip he had made himself to his lip to form the blood pact. Everything he stood for, everything he embodied, seemed to have disappeared now that it came to you.

“My Darling ~” he sighed and kissed you again, letting the heaviness of the situation sink and fester into your brain.

You wouldn’t get out of this pact anytime soon.

Maybe even not in this life.

[delimeful]

Helpless (2)

the next chapter in the drider virgil fic!

warnings: spiders, slight dehumanizing language, assumptions/jumping to conclusions

-

Logan was certain that he’d tracked down his quarry.

Of course, he’d also been certain the last two times he’d found promising evidence around a swath of woods, but this time was different.

He had learned plenty while traversing through the varied lands of his kingdom, and while physical evidence was ideal, word of mouth was one of the most useful tools a researcher could use to find leads.

That was part of the reason why he’d been so careful to observe typical travelers for weeks before his departure, the reason he was wearing worn, cheap fabric and staying at the second-cheapest room at this town’s inn, despite having plenty of money still hidden on his person. He didn’t want a single rumor about a suspiciously rich noble traveling alone.

The last thing he needed was for his investigative journey to be interrupted by bandits, or worse, would-be do-gooders attempting to return the missing prince to his place in line for the throne.

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the very thought, putting aside the last half of his travel rations and stopping at the edge of town to stare into the woods beyond. He checked his compass habitually, and he was pointed firmly westward, exactly towards the point of the woods that were occupied by a dangerous monster, according to the barkeep that Logan had plied for information last night at supper.

The whole town knew of it, even the younger residents, which was a point in favor of the creature really existing rather than just being another folk tale.

There was one other potential source on the creature, a town outcast going by the way others’ noses wrinkled at the mention of him, but Logan was more than ready to begin investigating for himself, and the odds that the outcast actually knew anything were low, anyhow.

Decided, he headed into the forest, prepared for the day-long trek that was sure to follow. If he was prone to less scientific notations, he might have jotted down that he had a good feeling about this particular town.

Exactly an hour and a half later, Logan had found himself almost entirely immobilized by layers and layers of gossamer threads strewn about the trees.

Needless to say, he was ecstatic.

Even the foolish manner in which he’d landed himself stuck in such an obvious trap couldn’t dampen his spirits, not when faced with undeniable proof that there was in fact a drider in these woods. He’d been too hasty in his attempt to collect some of the biological material, and by yanking too hard, had ended up pulled forwards into the thick of the intricate spider web.

His immobility was a bit concerning, but mostly frustrating, since he couldn’t reach for his journal to note down the surprising level of the webbing’s tensile strength. Still, proper scientists had to be prepared to hold onto their observations for as long as it took for them to be able to write them down.

Besides, he could hardly complain. His current predicament practically guaranteed that he would actually get to see the creature!

-

There was a person stuck in his webs, and Virgil was freaking out about it.

It had never happened before. Virgil very specifically made the webs closer to town thick and opaque so that any passerby would see them and avoid this exact situation.

Virgil peered around the cluster of bushes he had half-flattened himself behind. The stranger didn’t seem too panicked, at least, going by the way that the web barely swayed with his presence. He didn’t even seem to be breathing hard, which was… admittedly sort of strange.

Skies above, what if this was a trap? Virgil turned his head sharply to scan his surroundings, wary of human hunters suddenly popping out of the undergrowth.

Several moments of silence, and even with all his senses pushed to their farthest, he couldn’t detect anything. It seemed the only one trapped here was the human.

A pang of guilt curled unpleasantly in his first stomach. He grimaced, wishing desperately that Patton was here to mitigate the utter terror Virgil was surely about to inflict on this guy.

No point in drawing it out. He rose up to his full height, grateful that the human had gotten stuck facing the opposite direction, and quietly crept up behind him. All he needed to do was announce his presence and let the human know he wasn’t going to hurt them, but he was immediately distracted at the sight of just how tangled his webs had grown.

“How does one human manage to touch every single support thread at the same time?” he asked, voice incredulous.

The human stiffened, and he couldn’t help but tense in response, cursing his big mouth.

… Really though, he spent hours crafting these, and now this one would have to be completely reconstructed!

“Are you the monster spoken of in town?”

The measured voice snapped Virgil out of his thoughts as easy as a clap of thunder, and he shuffled a bit from side to side nervously. His many steps must have been louder than he’d thought, because the human immediately attempted to twist around and see him.

He failed, naturally, because Virgil’s threads weren’t exactly easy to wriggle free of, but Virgil’s nerves only grew. “I… why do you ask?”

There was a short silence, and then, “Considering my current situation, it’s only natural I would want to know, isn’t it?”

Virgil resisted the urge to wince at his own dumbassery. “Right. Well. Yeah,” he confirmed, already bracing for the fear that nearly every human bore when confronted with him. Even Patton had been afraid at first, though Virgil really thought him braver than any other human, to be so terrified of even normal spiders and befriend a Drider of all creatures.

“Oh, excellent,” the human said with clear excitement. “Would you mind coming around so that I can see you?”

Virgil blinked, befuddled. The last thing most humans wanted was for him to come closer. Maybe it was the natural fear of him being in their blind spot? The guy certainly didn’t sound very afraid, even with Virgil’s less-than-stellar first impression.

“Do you have a weapon?” he asked warily.

“I have a knife,” the stranger offered, “but I can’t exactly reach it at the moment.”

Virgil could see the glint of it, caught bladefirst at the very edge of a web as though it had been used on the threads themselves. He slowly circled around the clearing, watching the stranger closely for any sudden movements, until he stood before him, all eight legs and thorax visible.

“Fascinating,” he breathed, eyes blown wide as they skittered from point to point as though noticing every little detail. Virgil would have thought him afraid had it not been for the prideful little grin that sat on his face. “I thought maybe you were lying to me-- I hadn’t expected you to be so fluent in the common language, living in the woods and all-- but wow!”

Virgil felt his front legs rising up a little bit in an automatic defense against the unexpected reaction. He ran his tongue over his fangs nervously, trying to figure out whether or not he should be insulted about the language thing. And what exactly did this guy mean by ‘expected’?

The stranger’s hands twitched slightly, still stuck firmly in place, and irritation briefly flitted across his face as though he’d forgotten his position. He blinked, as though remembering something.

“Oh, right. Are you planning on trying to consume me, then?” he asked, the question as politely curious as an inquiry about the weather.

Virgil recoiled physically at the idea, skittering back a few strides and baring his fangs despite the difference in size and strength and trapped-ness between the two of them. “What? No!”

The stranger managed to drag his intrigued gaze away from Virgil’s fangs, his hands twitching again almost subconsciously. “In that case, would you mind helping me down? My leg has begun to go numb, and I really would like access to my journal.”

“I-- I mean, yeah, if you aren’t-- I can--,” Virgil stumbled over his words, drawing closer with his body lowered non-threateningly and waiting for the inevitable flinch or shiver of disgust.

It never came. The stranger continued to stare at him with no trace of terror in his eyes, even as Virgil grew close enough to reach out and touch him.

“Take your time,” he offered, despite being the one trapped in a monster’s web. Virgil abruptly felt a bit silly about his obvious wariness, and lifted his front legs to rub them together at the ankles. The stranger’s head tilted to the side slightly, watching the gesture intently.

“... It’s the oils that make the webs not stick,” Virgil explained. “I produce it naturally on my feet so I don’t get, y’know, stuck. I’ll have to touch the webs that are attached to you. With my feet. The spider ones.”

Virgil didn’t have any other kinds of feet, but the stranger graciously didn’t nitpick.

“A built-in solvent… I wonder if natural spiders have similar traits,” he mused instead, and then, “Do whatever you need, I don’t mind. The opposite, really, I appreciate the assistance.”

Sure enough, he didn’t shy away when Virgil began carefully plucking at the threads entangling him, sliding the sides of his legs along them to coat them in the anti-stick oils. Bit by bit, the entanglement loosened, and Virgil had just freed both arms when the human abruptly twisted around to reach for something on his person.

Of course, now that much of the webbing holding him in midair had been removed, his weight was significantly less supported. A few threads snapped, and he dropped a few inches with a startled yelp. If he continued, he’d be in for either a rough fall or getting caught in a whole new layer of webbing, and Virgil wanted neither of those things.

He quickly reached forwards with his human arms and lifted the stranger up and away from further entanglement, batting away any stray threads with his front legs. Belatedly, he realized he had forgotten to check if it was a weapon that the human had reached for. Even more belatedly, he realized that this was the second human he’d picked up in this impromptu carry.

Weird that it had happened twice.

“Perfect, thank you,” the guy said, and then he started writing furiously in a little book, occasionally glancing up at Virgil and locking onto a feature before returning to writing. It was as though he didn’t mind at all being held aloft like a human might lift up a misbehaving cat.

Virgil took the opportunity to continue cleaning any web remnants off the guy while he was distracted, his mind whirring. A stranger who had clearly never done a day of hard labor in his life, who didn’t seem at all afraid of him, and was taking notes.

... Oh, shit.

Virgil set him carefully on the ground while he was still preoccupied with scrawling out a label for a diagram of Virgil’s teeth. He backed up, softening his steps, and by the time the stranger pulled his attention away from his book, Virgil was already well out of sight and planned to keep it that way, regardless of the confused little call the stranger made.

He was not messing with what was clearly a mage out for his parts.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Going on a Boardwalk

   Imagine: You and the Bad Batch go on a boardwalk by the ocean!

(Author’s Note: Happy Bad Batch eve!!!!)

   You arrive at sunset.  The sky is a striking orange which is beginning to fade into dark blue, with the horizon above the ocean painted with all sorts of pastels in between the two shades.  The group sets foot on the creaking boardwalk and looks ahead at the long row of stands and shops that goes for miles.  Omega is “ooh”ing and “aw”ing at all the lights, and she pointed excitedly at the rides down by the pier.

   And so, the Bad Batch begins the trek along the boardwalk.

   Hunter’s first instinct is to watch Omega and smile at her reaction to the location.  There’s a pretty decent crowd, so he makes sure to keep an eye on her.  If you’re his significant other, you may be used to having to share your Sergeant since he was responsible for the squad...but it’s a boardwalk and it’s supposed to be fun, so you encourage him to relax.  Hunter eventually is able to let go and enjoy himself, entwining his fingers with yours and walking with you.  His favorite part of the boardwalk so far is hearing the crash of the waves nearby, hearing the seagulls, and feeling the salty air.  He absolutely loves glancing beside him to see you smiling and appreciating the sights too.

   Tech spends the first few minutes on his datapad gathering whatever intel he could about the shops they have and whatnot.  He rarely goes into a situation without research simply because he likes to be prepared and he likes to have information whenever his brothers ask a question.  After that, he is quite happy to simply savor the scenery.  If you’re his date, he’ll want to hold your hand the whole way as you walk and take in the things to do.  Tech is interested in boardwalk games and arcades, and though he might not say so right away, you can see him staring whenever passing by one.

   Echo is smiling a lot.  His mood is light as his gaze wanders the stands and sees all the happy people walking by.  This was the vacation that was long overdue, and he was going to enjoy it.  Lots of things grab his attention: the food, the games, the rides.  Omega convinces him to go on a ride with her later.  If you’re his significant other, he’d be at your side the whole time, holding your hand.  He’d rather let you pick what you want to do or see first.

   Wrecker is in awe of all the things you can do and see in one place.  He and Omega are chattering about all the rides they want to go on later at the pier.  He is pretty fixated on the food for now.  If you’re his significant other, you may find that he goes from holding your hand to running toward whatever catches his eye, which happens often.  He’s pretty fixated on food and most likely won’t move on until he has something to eat.  Ever the gentleman, he wants to be sure you get something too.

   Crosshair remains at your side as his sharp eyes take everything in.  He likes to follow the rear of the group.  Normally, he isn’t one for public displays of affection, but with all the young men running around in groups and after noticing the other couples walking hand-in-hand, he feels the need to mark you as his.  You’ll feel his hand gently take yours, and when you glance over he is already gazing at you.  He’s content to go wherever you want to go and just enjoys seeing you happy.

   Omega is super excited and spends the first fifteen or so minutes planning to go on rides and trying to get her brothers to volunteer to take her.  Her eyes are aglow from the lights reflecting in them.  There are people who stand in front of the shops playing with whatever toy or fad was in to try and draw in customers, and Omega would definitely be drawn in.  She’d want to play with the bubble machines and robo pets even if for a few minutes before moving on.  

   After walking farther down the boardwalk, the Batch finds themselves drawn to different things, so they agree to separate for a little while.

   Hunter will explore the shops with you, but he is most drawn to the edge of the boardwalk where he can watch the sun go down over the ocean.  If you’re his date, he would take the opportunity of having the others distracted to just shower you with affection.  He doesn’t make a scene or anything, but he smiles warmly at you,  gives your hand a little kiss, and kisses your forehead in between ganders at the ocean.  Eventually, he can’t resist anymore and tilts your chin to meet your lips with his own in a tender kiss just as the sun dips beneath the horizon.

   Tech wants to play some arcade games, if you’re up for it.  He enjoys showing off his intellect and skill, but sometimes he likes a good game of chance where anything can happen.  He can calculate probability for those scenarios, but not much beyond that.  He also really loves watching you.  He’ll stand behind you with his chest pressed to your back and watch you play your favorite game.  His absolute favorite is to go up against you in a two-player game.  He loves the competition and when you playfully talk smack when he gets cocky.  If Tech wins, he’ll want a kiss as his prize.

   Echo will gladly go along with whatever his significant other wants to do first.  If you want to look at the ocean, he is more than happy to do it with you.  If you’d rather get something to eat, he’s in.  One thing he does want to do during your time together is browse the gift shops and pick up a souvenir.  He’d treat you to something like matching oversized hoodies with the boardwalk logo on them or nice mugs to use for caf aboard the Marauder.  If you tried hard enough to convince him, he might even agree to get those matching couple shirts displayed in the windows like “her king” and “his queen” or something customized.  He playfully rolls his eyes as you hold one of the shirts up in front of him, but he can’t help but lean in and capture your lips in a loving kiss.

   Wrecker definitely wants to grab something to eat first.  There are so many different places that he can’t decide which one to commit to for his first boardwalk meal.  He ends up getting a little something from a few different places.  Pizza, hotdogs, fries… He gets enough for both of you to share, and the two of you would find a nice spot at a table near the edge where there’s a lovely view of the ocean.  After the two of you are full, he’d be more attentive and open to whatever you wanted to see next, holding your hand and giving you kisses.

   Crosshair is fine with letting you lead the way to whatever you wanted to do first.  He is enjoying all of the sights with you, and that’s more than enough for him.  However, if you were to ask if there’s anything he’d like to see in particular, he wouldn’t mind stopping in one of the shops with henna tattoos and edgy t-shirts.  He’d get himself an oversized hoodie to wear for a little while before pulling it down over your form when the sun disappeared behind the horizon and it got colder outside.  He’d smile at you as you hugged yourself in the air and sighed in contentment: That new hoodie smell would be mingled with his own scent.  He takes your hand again and the two of you continue on your way.

   Omega tags along with one of her brothers for a while and ends up getting something to eat and a toy from one of the shops to keep tucked under her arm as she explores.  She begs Hunter to let her get a temporary tattoo.   He’s hesitant because she’s young and he doesn’t want her to think she has to impress the group by getting a real tattoo someday, but since it’s only a temporary one just for fun, he decides it’s okay.  Omega gets a little seahorse and starfish on the back of her hand.

   Next up are the rides!  The group reunites and heads over to the pier to buy some tickets.  With the sun down, the rides are all lit up in the dark.

   Hunter won’t pressure you to go on anything if you don’t like rides, and he will probably only go on a couple of rides with Omega to make her happy, but will spend most of the time at your side.  If you do want to go but are a little nervous, he’ll gladly hold your hand and tease you playfully until you go with him.  If you are the kind of person who loves to go on all the rides, he’ll go on a few with you and stand by and hold your things while you go on more.

  Tech will definitely go on some rides if you want to.  Otherwise, he will try one or two on his own and be content with standing back and watching everyone else alongside you.  He might get some recordings of Wrecker’s screams on the really high ones that Omega managed to convince him to go on.  If you do go on crazy rides, Tech will film your reaction to play back and tease you lovingly about with that cute smirk on his face.

   Echo would rather watch the others have their fun.  He gets a little salty and says Tech’s wild flying is more than enough for him.  However, Omega somehow got him to agree  to go with her before, so he’ll keep his word and go on a ride with her.  If you enjoy rides, he will also make an exception for you too.  However, if you’d rather watch the others, the two of you can stand near the ride and wave as they go.

   Wrecker loves fast rides, but still is terrified when it comes to heights.  He’ll tolerate a rollercoaster that goes in a few loops, but if it’s the kind that climbs agonizingly slow to the top and then flies down a steep drop from a few hundred feet up, he’ll be covering his eyes and screaming.  Him and Omega stick to the ones that aren’t too bad.  If you enjoy rides, Wrecker will be happy to go on them with you.  He’ll even accompany you on one of the high coasters if you insist on going by yourself, because he’s worried for you and wants to protect you even if it scares the heck out of him.  If you don’t like rides, he’ll probably still go on a few with Omega.  The two of them will wave at you and grin adorably.

   Crosshair is not scared one bit and will do the craziest ride on the pier, if challenged.  It makes him the perfect person to go on rides with if you’re a little scared.  He’ll go on anything with you, keeping calm and holding your hand even if you’re totally freaking out.  Doesn’t matter if you want to go on thirty rides or just one, he’s down.  If rides aren’t your thing, he’s also fine to stand with you and watch the others.  Better watch out, if he feels the need to show off, he will go on the craziest ride just to make a point.

   Omega wants to go on every ride within reason.  There are height limits to some, so she’ll obviously avoid those.  Her and Wrecker are buddies when it comes to rides since he;s the Bad Batcher who enjoys them the most, although she’ll manage to get Echo and Hunter to go with her on a few.  And if everyone else is done with rides, Tech or even Crosshair will go on one with her.

   The squad will turn and head back toward the exit.  They may stop at a few stands on the way back to see anything they missed on the way up.  Omega is exhausted, so one of the brothers carries her back.

   When you get back to the ship, everyone is tired and heads to their bunks.  You get cozy with your Bad Batch SO and drift off to sleep...

[heavenbarnes]

nothing to lose

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (18+)

Warnings/Contains: swearing, semi!sub bucky, alcohol mention, stripping (male), oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (please use a condom), spanking, dirty talk

Word Count: 3.5k

I’m trying to get back into writing, believe you me, so please appreciate these lil breadcrumbs I’ll try to keep dropping! In the meantime, I love you all x

Bucky had a way about him when he wanted something from you. He had a turn up in comfy clothes, wine bottle in hand way about him. It was a way that you saw right through, but a way nonetheless. The tricky part was deciphering what he wanted.

Now Bucky wanted a lot of things, he wanted a holiday somewhere warm, he wanted to see Phoebe Cates in Fast Times for the first time again, and he wanted...

How do you put it? He wanted...

You opened the front door to him, in his sweatpants and half-up hair glory, a buttery Chardonnay in his right hand. You immediately shot him a look that either asked “what have you done?” or “what do you need?” Objecting that it was just a friendly house call, he came inside and that’s where you ended up.

Curling in the corner of your couch, knees bent in front of you as your cheeks kept a steady warmth fed by the wine. Bucky sat in front of you, legs spread and taking up room, hands gesturing as he continued his story about a time you’d never understand.

“Wait, you just let this slide?” You questioned, shooting him a puzzled glance.

“You have to remember this is the forties,” He jumped up a bit. “Anyways so!”

Forgetting this meant he had an ulterior motive, you melted into the cushions and into his voice as he kept you giggling as the hours passed. It wasn’t until he spouted stupid ideas like truth or dare that you bit back at him, bringing it round to the beginning.

“Fine, fine, pick truth!” He was in the midst of reminding you that wasn’t how the game went but you managed to have him concede with a grumble of “okay, I pick truth.”

“Why did you come here tonight with the ingredients to butter me up?”

His mouth dropped in surprise, a faux surprise that reminded you Bucky had never really been good at lying. Through stutters he got out his words, “I’ve no idea what you mean!”

“Wine, lush stories from before my time, looking lovely and cuddly?”

“You think I look lovely-“

“Bucky!”

He sighed, leaning forward and taking your glass (much to your protest) and placing it with his on the coffee table. He turned back to you, hands bracing your knees at the bend and looking into your eyes. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it bad, and he was going to make your life hell till he got it.

“Now, you’ve got to promise not to shoot this out of the sky like always!”

And there it was, what you knew in the back of your mind he was here to ask for. The same thing he always asked for when it got late and he got needy and wine dropped your reserves. The cheek of him, huh?

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes,” The government name flew off your lips as you stared back at him. “Tell me you did not come all this way to ask for some pussy.”

He wasn’t sure which winded him quicker, the full name and the way it sounded coming off your lips in such a clipped tone, or the fact you said pussy and he needed to hear you say it about a hundred more times. He quickly cleared his mind, getting back to the subject at hand, the one he was determined on.

“Don’t make me sound like a bitch, honey,” he grumbled. “You make me sound like I can’t get any!”

“You can get any, you could walk out onto my street and find any number of people that’d be willing to give it up to you!”

His eyelids dropped, scooting further towards you and gripping your knees harder. It was his turn to call you by your full name, sounding unfairly delicious coming from him. “You know I don’t want just anyone.”

“You know that this,” you flicked your hand back and forth between you two. “This would be detrimental, we work together, we see each other every day.”

“And that is the killer! I see you walking around and kicking ass and looking like everything I ever dreamed of, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

You couldn’t help the way your lip rose in a smirk. You knew that Bucky had felt this way about you ever since you helped Sam and Steve track him down. He saw you catch a bullet midair and throw it back, he knew from then he was fucked.

“By the way,” he tacked on the end. “I didn’t come all this way to beg for pussy, I actually enjoy your company and I knew you’d enjoy mine.”

Raising your brows in a “oh, is that right?”, you nodded slowly as your hands came to rest on top of his. “Now, I never said beg, but if that’s what you want to do then maybe we’re talking.”

Bucky’s eyes had fallen out of the early onset of embarrassment, but your words had perked them right up again. He dropped a brow and raised one, urging you to go on. The corners of your lips picked up as everything ticked over in your brain.

Let’s check all the cards on the table, Bucky was unexplainably beautiful, not just in his god-like features but he was right when he said you enjoyed his company. Every time you caught his eyes holding your figure too long, it ignited that little flame burning in you. Lying and hypocrisy weren’t a good look, so there was no use denying that he wasn’t on your mind on lonely nights with only your fingers for company.

“If you want it as bad as you say you do, are you going to work for it?”

Bucky turned closer towards you as you spoke, almost as if he’s unsure of what he was hearing. Your expression gave him a hurry up, until he was clearing his throat. “Of course, yeah of course.”

You brought one of your feet back, pressing the ball of it against Bucky’s thigh and pushing him gently. He quickly got the message and shifted down a bit. Extending your leg, you were able to lay your foot against the crotch of his pants. His eyes moved from his lap before shooting back to you.

“You’ll do whatever I say? You’ll be good and give me what I want?” Pressing your foot down gently, you began to rub it against him as you spoke.

Bucky’s breath caught right in his throat, right hand coming to gently grasp your ankle as you worked against him. “That’s always been it, whatever you want from me, you can have.”

And he had to have been telling the truth, the way you could feel him hardening under the ball of your foot was no lie. Bucky’s head fell back to rest against the top of the couch, eyes closing gently and mouth slightly parting as his fingers drifted up to massage your leg.

His hips stuttered ever so slightly, only the smallest bit and you could’ve missed it if you weren’t so invested with how delicious he looked just then. He was getting harder by the second, pants tightening as you saw the outline of him showing prominently in font of you.

Of course he had a huge dick, of course.

“You want pussy?” You hummed, sliding your foot back and tucking your legs to the side. “You want to eat mine?”

His eyes lit up like he’d been given the world, tongue dipping out against his lower lip and nodding slowly. You turned to place your feet on the floor, beckoning him up and in front of you with one finger. Your mouth curled into an obviously devious smile.

“Strip.”

Bucky was never and will never be a stupid man, he was not impartial to light embarrassment to get what he wants (in fact, it sometimes made him hard). To be honest, you could’ve told Bucky to get starkers on the balcony with the city watching and he would’ve done it, provided he got you in the end.

So there was no qualms and he was pushing off of your knee and stepping into the space between your thighs. Pulling the band from his hair, the strands fell into his face before he brushed them back with a wide span of his hand.

His shirt was the next to go, landing behind him and taught muscles on display. Only natural that your lower lip got tugged between your teeth, until Bucky lent forward and took it between his fingers. He kept leaning in, running his thumb down your lower lip until you were pouting for him.

He was moments away from you, to the point where you each could feel the breath of the other ghosting across your skin. He bridged the infinitesimal gap between you both and lay his lips on yours, tongue immediately finding its way past your teeth.

Of course he was a great kisser, of course.

You fought your inner monologue just enough to place your palms flat on Bucky’s chest and push him back to standing height. “I wanna’ see the rest.”

And he could never deny that girlish smile, whether you were asking him to bring you a drink or rub your back or fetch something off the top shelf. So the way his fingers undid the tie of his sweats, poking into the waistband to draw them down his hearty thighs, told nothing different.

Your teeth gritted together, corners of your mouth dying to quirk up and give yourself away. He just looked so good. Those black briefs were straining, the outline was right there, you almost had it but you held it back.

You wanted to see Bucky on his best behavior.

Rolling the band of his boxers down, your breath caught in your chest. It was a slow descent into insanity as he drew it out and drew it out. You knew it had nothing to do with nerves, everything to do with making you suffer the same way he had. 

But soon, they too hit the floor. This time you were pouting without his help.

This man was from another planet, he had to be. He was cut from a cloth that was woven at the hands of God’s and never to be replicated. All that and he was standing in your living room ready to do whatever you asked.

“Good boy.”

You tried your luck and to your reward, Bucky’s eyes lit up like Roman candles (think church, not fireworks), knees buckling slightly in the twinge of excitement that coursed around him and kissed his skin.

He took his own lead, stepping towards you and tucking his fingers around your bottoms to draw them off. You let him, no use arguing when he was doing exactly what you wanted without even having to say it. You even want as far as lifting your hips for him so he could toss your clothes to land with his.

Bucky’s knees hit the floor in front of you, shuffling in and hooking his arms under your thighs, resting them over his shoulders. His eyes were firmly fixed on where you were softest, wettest, where his mind would always wander on cold nights.

He gently flickered his gaze to you, a look that asked permission.

“Go ‘head.”

And his lips were deathly soft against your thighs, and he could say the same about your skin. He could smell you, so close and so mouthwatering that he was conjuring all his untapped strength to not go wild right at the moment.

Bucky had to remind himself he was a good boy.

Lips coasting their way closer he very gently pressed a kiss to your clit, tongue dipping to roll against it as he sucked in the same motion. Immediately a shiver ran the length of your body, thighs tensing against his shoulders.

Buck’s fingers grasped the muscle of your thighs, massaging to loosen them as his mouth continued to work against you. Your hips rolled against his face, back raising off the couch the mouth his lips suckled your sensitive skin.

The back of your brain was yelling at you, asking why you’d taken this long to let him feel this good kneeling at your feet. Part of it was the fun, the thrill of the chase? Watch him squirm a little bit.

Stubble grazed against you with every minuscule motion he made, the tender burn only heightening your sense. You felt your body chase him, still raising off the couch to follow wherever he went.

You watched the movement of his right arm, slow and steady as your eyes followed it down to the wrist. Fingers grasping his length as he only slightly twisted his grasp around it, hips gently cantering into his own touch.

“God damn, Bucky.” You cooed, hand threaded through his hair and tugging slightly.

He only hummed, a rumble that fed straight into you and the way your legs were closing around his head. His tongue still flittered across you, forcing your eyes shut and incoherent cries to fly off your tongue.

And when your orgasm finally hit you, you were trying your hardest to pull back, but that grip he had on you was locked steady. His mouth was pressed to you, determined to work you through the tide of pressure that was breaking over you.

Your eyes rolling back, heels digging into his shoulder blades, his name becoming the only cry you could remember. He pulled back, chin glistening and hand still steadily tugging at himself, smile reflecting your own hazy expression.

“I was thinking,” You started, leaning forward to tuck some hair behind his ear. “I haven’t heard a lot of begging from you.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, head leaning into your touch just slightly as the hand pleasuring himself stopped altogether. He stayed quiet, the realisation dawning on him that he’d managed a pretty sweet run.

Pulling your hand back, you stood from your spot on the couch and headed for your bedroom. You could hear Bucky shuffling behind you, clambering to his feet and following.

“Wait, wait-“

“You’ve just taken whatever you wanted.”

“But you said to go ahead-“

“Not the point, Barnes, I wanted to hear you beg.”

As you pulled your top over your head and tossed it behind you, he followed it like breadcrumbs until he snuck into your room behind you. Barely acknowledging his presence, you situated yourself against the pillows, cocking your head in his direction.

“Baby, you could just be kind and I could wreck that pretty lil’ pussy.”

Raising an eyebrow, your head recoiled as if questioning his seriousness right now. He realized that wouldn’t slide before he got onto the end of the bed, sitting back on his knees.

Palms pressed flat against his thighs, cock still hard as ever, he drew in a deep breath.

“Can I please fuck you?”

Sighing, you drew yours knees up and kept your legs pressed together, seemingly lying in wait.

“You look so fucking good, taste like heaven, like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Drawing your finger tips against your chest gently, you listened to what more he could conjure up. His eyes narrowed, the situation ticking over in his head. Raising up he moved up the bed until his hands were on your knees, grasping them before pulling them to the side enough for him to slot between.

“Every night, all I can think about is how I need to bury myself in this hot little cunt, bury you into the mattress as you’re crying my name. Every time I see this tight ass bounce past me I just thinking about splitting it open until you’re seeing stars,”

He lent further into you, nearly nose to nose until it was your turn to go bug eyed.

“You’re fucking mean, you’re nasty and you love to torture me cause you know there isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do to have you in my lap with your legs wrapped around me. Almost sad part is, I fucking love it, I love being teased by you and I love chasing your damn tail because I know there isn’t anyone else that’d let me do the fucking things I want to do to you.”

His hands left your knees as they came to cup your jaw, drawing you in until his lips nearly touched yours.

“So, for the love of all that is holy, let me flip you over and split you in two.”

Surging forward you locked your lips onto his and drove your tongue into his mouth, making as much purchase as you could. It was filthy, messy and spit slicked and teeth nearly clashing but it was you getting what you want.

“It’s about fucking time you grew a pair.”

“Oh, fuck you-“

Forgoing the tail end of his remark, he wrapped his arms beneath you and pulled you forward and against his chest. Mouths back and messily working together, you fought your way out of his grasp until you were straddling him.

“But you do look so good under me.”

His hand shot up to crack against your ass, sending you forward where he quickly wrestled you into swapping places. Getting you on your front and pulling your hips back until you were arched, his much smoother movements of heavy petting your backside were welcomed.

Keening into him, shaking your ass just a little to get what you want, he grasped both cheeks and spread them. You must’ve looked a sight, still wet from his mouth and just about everything else you two had done, you felt a metal finger running along the length of you.

But part of him didn’t want to wait a second longer as you felt the bed dip with him raising back up to lay his length down the split of your cheeks. Coating it nicely with your slick, you could feel it prodding against you.

As he slid himself in, his chest came to lean against your back, nestling himself within you and getting used to the snug fit.

“Fuckin’ tight, fuckin’ perfect, all mine.”

He listened for your shaky exhale before he drew back, hips lined up and slamming back into you as your arms gave out. Cheek pressed into the blankets and arms out ahead of you gripping onto whatever you could find purchase in.

Bucky found his rhythm, rolling his hips eagerly into you, sounds of skin blending with the pathetic moans he was wickedly good at forcing from you. His grip on you and the way he was living up to his word of fucking you into the mattress, your mouth was dropped open.

It was like he’d fucked all sense out of you, until incoherent little moans about “how good he felt” and “how big he was” were the only things that were swilling about in your brain. You felt remarkably proud of how long you’d kept together the facade of being in control.

“That feel good, baby? Glad you finally let me fuck you like you deserve?”

More senses of agreement tumbled out of you as you gripped the bed and gripped around him, rolling your hips back onto him to try and match his movements. One of his hands splayed between your shoulder blades while the other lay against your ass.

“So fucking mean, but I fucking love it.”

His hand came back and struck down against your ass with a delicious sting, a cry of his name sounding out of you. He massaged over the area, before slipping his hand down to rub against your clit.

“I always knew you wanted to give in,” His chest huffed as he kept powering into you. “But I liked the little game, naughty girl.”

This time has hand drew back and delivered a slap against your clit, your legs shaking against him he pushed you straight towards your end. You felt your lower half clamp right around him, your body tensing up.

“That’s a good girl, fucking come for me.”

Bucky was a good boy, but you were even better.

Doing as told, you felt your whole body come apart as you slumped forward, shaking slightly as Bucky never let up with his thrusts or his fingers. You felt the wetness against your thighs, knowing he’d well and truly fucked it out of you.

His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you back into him and rolled his hips against you. Impossibly deep and nearly bulging out your belly, Bucky stayed deep inside you as his hips stuttered.

He held you still as he came, raw moans flooded your ears like a choir as you felt a dumbstruck smile make its way across your face. Feeling the weight of him sink onto you as you both collapsed into the bed.

Resting against his chest, tucked into your pillows, you felt him tracing patterns into your back. You tilted your head up, looking towards him with a smile.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for coming all this way to beg for pussy.”

“Don’t fucking ruin the moment, beloved.”

[the-bau-quinjet]

heyy do you think you can do a steve rogers x reader where the rest of the avengers try to matchmake them because everyone ships them (& everyone knows that they're both in love with each other besides themselves LMAO)? it would be EXTRA amazing if you could make it such that the reader is smaller/shorter than steve? personally really love the height difference in a relationship but if not it's fine too! thank you so much, have a great day ahead xoxo

Set Us Up

Warnings: 2455

Word Count: crude language, but mostly fluff

a/n: This took me a hot minute because I couldn't think of ways for everyone to try and set them up lol, but I think this is super cute! I hope you have a great day too!!

Masterlist

"He totally has a thing for you! Nat, back me up." Wanda turned to the redhead.

You, Wanda, and Nat were supposed to be training. Instead, the two of them have been trying to convince you to make a move on Steve. As if that would ever happen.

"She's right." Nat replied calmly.

"Would you two stop gossiping and just train with me! Please!" You have never confirmed your crush on Steve, but that didn't mean your two best friends didn't know about it.

"Y/N, I'm serious. That man is crazy about you." Wanda tried again while Nat easily defended your attack.

"Wanda, he's my friend. That it." You refused to make eye contact, knowing she would she the longing in your eyes. Instead you kept advancing on Nat.

"Friends don't look at each other like that." Wanda smirked, knowing you'd fall into her trap.

"Like what?" You continued sparring with Nat.

"Like he wants to fuck you against any flat surface available." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Wanda!" You finally turned to her. Unfortunately, that was the point where Nat went on the offensive.

She easily tackled you to the ground, unable to stop her own momentum. She folded you like a pretzel, resulting in a very pitiful whine from you.

"Ow." You complained from the ground, not bothering with trying to get up.

"I know exactly what you need." Nat smirked devilishly. "Steve!" She called across the gym, only making you wince further.

"Steve! Can you do me a favor?" Nat asked the super soldier, knowing he was never one to turn down a friend in need.

"'Course, what do you need?" He made his way across the gym to where you were still sprawled out on the mats.

"Y/N just took a pretty bad beating. Can you help her stretch?" Her and Wanda wore matching smirks despite trying to hide them. "I'd do it, but I promised Wanda I'd help her with something, and we have to go now."

Steve barely had time to respond before the two women were making their way out of the gym.

"Hey, Y/N." He greeted you kindly, looming over your body which was still on the ground. "Are you okay?"

You huffed, glared at the door where your friends just abandoned you, and then smiled at Steve. "Yeah, Wanda just distracted me and you know what that means when you're sparring with Nat."

He grimaced slightly, imaging the beating you just experienced.

"I've definitely been there." He gestured for you to put your foot in his hand. "Here, give me your ankle."

You followed his instructions, lifting your left leg until he grabbed onto your ankle. He slowly pushed your leg forward, helping to stretch your hamstring.

You couldn't help but laugh at the way he had to bend over slightly to fully push on your leg.

"What's so funny?" He tickled your leg before gesturing for you to switch.

"Nothing. You're just really tall." You snickered again at his hunched over frame. Your foot didn't even reach his hips, meaning his back was arched at an odd angle to give him the correct leverage to help you stretch.

"Maybe you're just short. Ever think of that?" He raised a brow, dropping your right leg back to the floor. "C'mon, give me your hands."

You raised your arms up like a petulant child, knowing he would have to bend down to reach your hands.

He rolled his eyes at your childish behavior, but ultimately bent down to grasp your hands. He pulled you to your feet a bit too harshly causing your body to stumble into his.

Your head landed squarely against his chest, really showing off the height difference.

"See," he put a hand on top of your head. "You're just short."

You shoved him slightly, backing away from his warm body. "That may be true, but that doesn't mean you can go around saying it." You playfully glared at the much taller man.

"I'm sorry. Come with me, I'll make you a smoothie to make up for it."

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't keep the grin off your face.

"Deal."

You just knew Nat and Wanda would be all smirks when you inevitably filled them in on this whole encounter.

-

"Who moved all the mugs?" You muttered to yourself. You spent the last five minutes standing on the tips of your toes trying to reach the mugs that, for some reason, had been move to the very top shelf.

Then you spent another five minutes looking for the step stool you kept in the kitchen.

You were about to resort to climbing on top of the counter when Steve walked into the kitchen.

You didn't even have to ask for his help before he was walking up behind you and reaching for a mug. His body briefly brushed against yours as he pulled the mug from the shelf, plopping it down on the counter in front of you.

"Thank you." You smiled at him, unsure if you could form any additional words.

"Anytime, short stuff." He smirked.

"Hey! It's not my fault someone felt the need to reorganize the cabinets." You whined. "Who does that?"

"I think it was Tony." He chuckled. "He said something about helping two idiots realized they're in love." He shrugged.

"That man is so weird." The two of you laughed, completely oblivious to Tony's plan.

-

"You ready to go, punk?" Steve could tell just by the look on Bucky's face that something was up.

"What did you do, jerk?" He eyed him suspiciously.

"Nothing!" He quickly looked down the hall, knowing you and Sam were supposed to emerge any second.

"Sam! You promised you would take me to Coney Island today!" You followed him down the hall, not realizing Bucky and Steve were already in the living room.

"I know, but I can't! I have to fix my wings." He glanced at Bucky conspiratorially. "Tin man, Tony said he needs you in the lab. Something about updating the tech in your arm."

Bucky looked back at Steve.

"Sorry, man. Gotta go." Bucky went to leave, but turned back before he made it out of the doorway. "Why don't you and Y/N go?"

"That's a great idea!" Sam added on. "You two go have fun."

The two of them ran from the room together before you could protest.

"Looks like it's just you and me." You smiled at Steve, grabbing your purse and heading for the door. "You coming?"

"Definitely." He smiled right back at you before leading you to the car.

The car ride took a while, but it felt like no time at all while talking to Steve.

"What's your favorite part?" He gestured to the park map as the two of you walked in.

"I've actually never been before. That's why I was so bummed when Sam said he was busy." You looked around the park entrance, taking in all the bright colors and happy people.

"I'll just have to show you all of my favorite parts then." He smiled at the look of wonder on your face, slowly reaching for your hand.

"I'd like that." You bit your lip nervously, butterflies swarming in your stomach when he took your hand.

He showed you around the entire park, starting with the rides. You went on every ride you could, only stopping when a fan asked for an autograph or a picture from one or both of you.

"Those are all the best rides." He smiled confidently.

"Really? No ferris wheel?" You pouted a bit. "I've always wanted to ride a ferris wheel."

"Don't worry, we will." He grabbed your hand again. "It's better to save that for the end of the night. Right now, it's time for games."

You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He genuinely looked to be having the best time in the world, and you honestly felt the same way.

"Lead the way."

The two of you made your way to the arcade, where Steve let every kid beat him.

His face lit up with joy watching them celebrate beating Captain America at various carnival games. When the game seemed unbeatable, he would win and let the kid choose a prize.

At the last game, he whispered with one kid as you looked on suspiciously. The little boy grinned, nodding his head in complete seriousness before turning back to the game.

When Steve won, the little kid smiled bigger than anyone else had all day. Steve walked back over to you with an enormous gray teddy bear.

"Your losing streak ends." You gestured to the bear.

"Yeah, well little Michael over there said I needed to win a prize for my pretty friend. He said he'd throw the game for me." He spoke with complete seriousness, causing you to giggle.

"That might be the cutest thing I've ever heard." Your face was the epitome of heart eyes as you looked between Steve and the bear. You pulled him into a massive hug before finally stepping back and trying to calm down.

"What's next?" You grabbed the bear, holding it tightly in one arm.

"Food!" Again, he held your hand as he lead you around the park.

He walked with you along the boardwalk, pointing out various spots to get different foods. Some had been there since he was a kid, others were clearly newer.

"This used to be my favorite." He smiled fondly looking at the Nathan's Famous sign.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" You walked confidently up to the window only to realize you had no idea what to order. "Steve! What should I get?"

He laughed at the panic on your face. Without even realizing, he put his arm around your shoulder, drawing you closer to him. You went easily, leaning into his touch.

"Can we get two Coney dogs and a large order of fries?" He asked the attendant taking orders. "Do you want anything to drink?" He looked down at you as though this were an everyday occurance.

"A slushie!" Your eyes went wide, a giddy kind of excitement growing in you.

"And two cherry slushies, please." He fished out his wallet with his free hand, still holding you close.

You moved to get money as well, but Steve shook his head. "This one's on me, sweetheart."

You all but melted at the pet name, hiding your smile by burying your head between your bear and his chest.

You signed a few more autographs and posed for more pictures while you waited for your food. A little kid came up to the two of you just as your order was called.

"I'll get it." You gestured for him to talk to the child.

"Captain America!" The little girl smiled widely when Steve crouched down to talk to her. "Are you on a date?"

Steve's face reddened at the question, but it made him think. "You know what, I think I am." He shook his head when he finally realized that Bucky and Sam set the two of you up without either of you realizing it.

"My mommy's gonna be sad. She said you're really handsome." The little girl laughed.

"Well, she's right. He is really handsome." You whispered conspiratorially as you returned with the food.

The little girl laughed before running back to her mom.

"C'mon, we can go sit on that bench." Steve gestured to an empty bench overlooking the beach. The two of you joked and laughed while you ate, but Steve couldn't stop thinking about the little girl's question.

"It's beautiful." You looked out over the sand. The sun was low in the sky, reflecting off the water.

"Breathtaking." Steve agreed, his eyes focused on you rather than the view.

"It's later in the day. Does that mean it's time for the ferris wheel?" You smiled widely, a common occurrence for the day.

"Yep. The ferris wheel is the very last thing to do before leaving." He threw away the trash from your meal before taking your hand in his.

"Why's that?" You looked up at him curiously.

"It's slow enough for you to enjoy the ride, even after eating. Plus, you get the best view from the top when the sun is setting." The two of you stood in line as he explained his reasoning.

"I guess you really know all the best tricks." You smiled at him, hugging the bear to avoid any embarrassing actions.

"Not really. Just the old ones." He joked.

"Steve Rogers! Did you just joke about your age?" You gaped at him playfully.

"Hey! If I can't joke about your height, you can't joke about my age." He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I guess that's fair." You nudged him with your shoulder, but he remained solid as a rock.

The two of you sat next to each other in the cart, placing the stuffed bear across from you.

"You were right. This is an incredible end to a marvelous day." You looked out over the park, taking in the pink and orange hues from the sunset.

"Y/N... I think Sam and Bucky set us up." He looked at you nervously.

"Yeah, they did a great job of it too." You replied easily, having realized much earlier than Steve what was going on.

"You're not upset?" He questioned, a confused look on his face. You decided to respond with an unfamiliar amount of bravery.

"Steve, I had an incredible day. The only way I'd be upset is if you didn't kiss me at the end of it." You smiled shyly.

"What if I kissed you now, even though it's not technically the end?" His smile matched your own.

"That'd be okay too."

"You both leaned in, meeting in the middle for a soft and romantic first kiss. His lips moved against yours as if they were made for each other.

"Steve?" You pulled back for air.

"Yes?" He smiled blissfully, forehead still pressed against yours.

"I think we're the idiots in love with each other." You whispered softly, thinking back to what Tony had said.

"I think you might be right."

He smiled, pulling you to kiss you again.

"Steve?" You pulled back again, a bright smile on your face.

"Yes?" His eyes remained closed, just breathing in the moment.

"The ride is over..."

His eyes snapped open, a blush painting his cheeks when the ride attendant awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Sorry!" He jumped from the ride, grabbing the bear in one hand and you in the other.

"Where to now?" You questioned, laughing as he pulled you through the park.

"Home, so I can end this date right."

Permanent tag list:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

[sandibullock]

I was wondering if you could do a tutorial on this gifset that you did i really like ittt

Thank you for sending this in, anon! I’m glad you liked it and wondered how it was made :) Fun fact: the day before you sent this, I had just started working on my next set in that “Select Filmography” series. I hope you like that one too when it’s ready!

I think I should start by saying I’m pretty new to giffing myself and there might be more efficient ways of getting to the same result. However, the point here is to show you the process I went through to make this gifset and hopefully help you understand how to make a similar one.

To follow this tutorial, you will need some version of Photoshop and some giffing knowledge. I know there are multiple ways of making gifs so I’m just letting you know I’m using the timeline and the “Convert for Smart Filters” option (I don’t really know how else to call it).

Now let’s get started!

STEP 1 - CHOOSE THE SCENES

It might sound obvious but, in my opinion, this is the most crucial step. It’s also the one that takes the longest (along with step 7, aka the coloring).

At this stage, you need to have a general idea on how you want your set to look like so you can choose the scenes accordingly. In my case, I knew I needed two types of shots for each movie: one close-up for the main gif and one mid shot for the shape. I also needed to take two other criteria into consideration: the movement (because of the shape) and the lighting (because darker scenes are such a pain to color). Last but not least, I didn’t want the characters to be talking (but that’s just a personal preference).

With all of that in mind, you can start saving a few screenshots of scenes that meet your criteria (or at least some of them). In the end, there won’t be that many to choose from so be prepared to make compromises.

STEP 2 - MAKE A DRAFT

Now that you’ve preselected a few scenes, you can make a first draft. This will help you turn your general idea into something more concrete.

Basically, this is your opportunity to organize your thoughts. What size do you want your gifs to be? What shape are you going to use? On which side do you want the close-ups to be? Do you want all of them to be on the same side or do you want to alternate from one gif to the other? Do the scenes you chose work together (gif-wise but also set-wise)? Are you happy with the way it looks, overall?

By answering all of the questions you might have now, you’ll save yourself a lot of time, trust me. Of course, you can totally skip this step if you already know exactly which scenes you’re going to use and how you’re going to present them together.

To give you an idea, this is what my draft looked like for Atomic Blonde.

STEP 3 - PREPARE YOUR GIFS

Once you have a clearer view on how you want your set to look like, you can finally start giffing like you usually would (i.e. importing, cropping, resizing, etc.).

It should then look something like this.

The important thing to mention here is that you want both of your gifs to be the same number of frames (32, in my case).

Ideally, you should also aim for the ~same~ coloring (especially for the skin tone, since both gifs will be so close to each other). This bit is particularly difficult when you chose scenes which have opposite lighting (see my two uncolored gifs below). Remember how I insisted on steps 1 and 2? It was to help you avoid this. So my advice would be not to choose these types of contrasted scenes, unless you can’t do otherwise and you’re ready to suffer!

STEP 4 - MAKE YOUR SHAPE

To make your shape, you can click right on the Shape Tool (U) and select the last one, Custom Shape Tool. From the Shape menu appearing on top, you will be able to choose the shape you want from the drop down list and start drawing on your gif.

To be more precise with the dimensions, you can manually adapt the length and height from the Shape menu itself. I decided to go with the same ones as my gif.

Once your shape is positioned like you want it to be, you can drag and drop the shape layer under your gif. Next, you will have to click right on the gif layer/smart filter and select Create Clipping Mask. The result is as below. Note that if the size of your shape was smaller than your gif, you would still be able to reposition your gif with the Move Tool (V).

You can now export your shape gif, reopen it in Photoshop and convert it again to the video timeline and to a smart filter. This is where I’m not sure it’s the most efficient way of doing things but it’s the only way I found to keep the coloring of each gif separate. I also find it easier to work with a smart filter.

STEP 5 - COMBINE YOUR GIFS

To add your shape gif to your main gif, you can simply click right on the shape gif you just reopened and select Duplicate Layer. You can then choose the project which contains your main gif to duplicate it in there. Now go to your main gif and reposition your shape gif where you want it to be (how many times did I say gif here?). Finally, you can draw a new shape, using the same dimensions as in step 4, reposition it and choose any color you want from the Shape menu.

Since you will be repeating this process with your following gifs, I suggest you add a few guides so you know exactly where you should place everything to make all of your final gifs look the same.

(In case you’re wondering, the “Base” folder contains my adjustment layers/basic coloring for the main gif.)

STEP 6 - ADD THE TITLE

This step is pretty simple: go on the web and type “[name of the movie] title”. Download the png you like most, open it in Photoshop and resize it to a length of about 150-200 pixels. Next, duplicate the layer to your main gif and reposition it. In case you need to resize it again, select the title layer and go to Edit > Free Transform (Ctrl+T).

This is optional but in case you want to change the way it looks, know you can always duplicate the title layer and play with the blending options (see below). The good thing with a png is that you can also add some effects by clicking on the “fx” button.

STEP 7 - ADD COLORING (OPTIONAL)

To be honest, I had not planned on coloring my gifs. But I had already spent so much time on them and I was still unhappy with the way they looked. I mean, see how grey-ish they are? Not great...

So the only thing left for me to do was to add some colors. Now, since coloring is worth a tutorial on its own and it already exists, I suggest you read through becca’s mega coloring tutorial (and especially steps 3 & 5). Seriously, shoutout to her for making this incredibly useful tutorial. She is so talented and I love everything she makes!

My Atomic Blonde gif barely even needed coloring so I’ll show you what I did for my Tully and The Old Guard gifs.

For the first one, once I had found which colors to use with which blending option and opacity level, I only had to remove the colors from the left side of the gif because there was barely any movement in that scene (phew!). For the second one, on the other hand, I decided to color frame by frame because there was way more movement, in comparison. This is quite a tedious process, which is why you want to limit yourself to a certain amount of frames.

I’ll conclude by saying there are so many things you can do with coloring and what works with one scene might not work with another. So experiment with it: try different colors, play with the blending options and opacity levels, add some gradients and/or gradient maps, etc. Just know it will take some time to get to a somewhat satisfying result!

And that’s it... I hope this tutorial made sense and was somehow helpful. Of course, don’t hesitate if you have any questions! Also, if you do end up making a similar edit, pleeease send me the link or tag me in the replies or something ‘cause I would definitely love to see it!!

[galaxygermdraws]

would you consider sharing the Imp and Skizz headcanons you have?? pls???

Oh anything for the person who gave me my favorite Imp n Skizz angst AU + 3L drabbles ever, why wouldn't I? (No joke tho Separation AU is amazing and the reason I even know of Skizz's existence-)

So I guess I'll do Lore this time since last hc drop was just pain. Feel free to ask me to go into detail on any of these btw. U r also allowed to expand upon any of these ideas

So first off, both of them were born completely human. It just so happened Impulse ended up in the End and he doesn't really know why, but he was raised by the Ender Dragon(who I personally hc as a goddess of sorts), n she realized it'd be hard for him to survive as a mere human so she blessed him, n that's why he's considered to be Enderborn.

And Impulse lives in the End for like 10 to 15 years, the Dragon vanishe very early into this time, before Skizz finds him. Impulse doesn't entirely trust Skizz at first, given he can't even understand him, but Skizz isn't threatening Impulse or any of the nearby Endermen(surprisingly), so Impulse sees no reason to not trust him.

After a while, Impulse goes to the Overworld for the first time, and at one point he gets spooked n the 2 get separated and Skizz kinda finds Impulse half dead, shaking on the ground and crying (and given Impy has never felt this much physical pain in his life, makes sense). He picks him up n takes him home, placing him in bed n taking care of him as much as he knows how to.

This is probably when Impulse truly starts to trust Skizz, and this is probably when the two start teaching the other their own languages. Because Impulse was raised in the End, he can't speak English, but a less complicated dialect of Galactic. Meanwhile, Skizz can speak English, n has to try n teach it to Impulse. Given the two of them talk very similarly, Impulse prolly picked up on some of the weird speech habits Skizz has.

From this point the two of them just kinda live together n it's really soft. They basically become brothers and are practically inseparable. Then ofc they find Tango n Zed and the quartet is complete.

And then of course... Impulse eventually gets summoned to HC. I like to think the summoning spell is a more advanced way of summoning the Dragon, so that's why n how Impulse can be summoned, but this left Skizz n Zed alone on the quartet's main world.

Skizz tried not to think Impulse was dead but he had never seen that happen before, and Zed was tryna get in contact with Tango, unaware that that's who summoned Impulse.

Of course they all figure out what happened and things are okay.

As for other headcanons I've got, some of my personal favs

-Impulse helps Skizz adjust to getting Enderman powers after 3L. Impulse doesn't have all these powers, but he has some, and some of those happen to be powers Skizz also ended up getting. (i.e. teleporting specifically). This also means Impulse can directly look Skizz in the eyes without freaking him out, since the Enderman data made Skizz extremely skittish when it came to eye contact.

-This is more a ZITS headcanon then just Imp n Skizz, but they've all got friendship bracelets(even if I forget to draw them half the time)

-Imp n Skizz have the same height to age difference as Mario n Luigi and honestly Is There a Better comparison? I think not.

-These 2 def have a tad bit of separation anxiety from each other so Tango rigged their comms so they can communicate between SMPs no problem.

[from-seas-to-skies]

The Teacher / Bakugou x Reader ♕︎

warnings: NSFW, teacher/student relationship, oral sex, spitting, sir kink, slut shaming, somewhat brat taming, age difference, unprotected sex

words: 5,772

(a/n): Bakugou is 30 in this; reader is younger (college age)

-

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

One, two, three, four… How long was it going to take until class ended again?

Looking up from your notebook, you stare up at the clock, the large, monotonous face seemingly glaring straight back at you. You don’t know how it happens, but time always moves so slow when it comes to your calculus class. Frankly, you’d rather ditch the class altogether, but if you wanted to graduate from college, you had to pass. Curse stupid curriculums and all that shit.

However, despite absolutely dreading having to stare at numbers for a solid hour and a half, there is a plus side to taking this dreaded class. In fact, it’s the very reason why you signed up for it in the first place. You’ve heard so many wonderful things about it, all from girls and guys alike, and you knew you had to see it up close and personal – rather, you had to see him.

Professor Bakugou.

Age thirty, drives a Land Rover, and, most importantly, single.

He’s about as dreamy as they come; a complete and utter Dreamboat Annie, absolutely huge in both height and stature, intelligent, and handsome. He’s only been a professor for a few years, but it’s been made apparent to the school that he’s worth it. Not only are his teaching methods and lectures incredible, but he’s turned out some of the highest grades your college has even seen. That itself is impress, and, combined with the hype of how hot he is, it’s no wonder people rush to take his classes.

So, when it came time for class schedules to come out, you were excited, needless to say. Despite having a general disliking to math in the first place, you figured this one guy could be what it takes to turn that idea around. Oh, but that was before you first laid your eyes on him.

Shit, you had heard that he was attractive – godly, even – but this? You weren’t expecting this. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon, and his sharp jawline could easily cut diamonds. It sounds cliché, that’s true, but you have no other way of putting it. Words did not do this man any justice.

At first, his constant yelling and crude demeanor were a total turn off. Professor Bakugou was essentially the teacher version of Gordon Ramsay, and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked that or not. However, as time continued, you actually grew accustomed to it. In fact, if he didn’t yell at least once during the class, you’d immediately figured he was having a bad day.

That’s when the thoughts began. Call it infatuation, a mindless crush, whatever, but you wanted Professor Bakugou. Your eyes soon began to watch his large hands flex while he wrote on the board rather than the content itself. You’d watch his forearms flex while he turned the page in his textbook, prominent veins inviting you for a better look. How you longed to touch him, to grab his sturdy shoulders or pull his wild hair. He always looked so good, clothes tailored to fit his muscular frame perfectly.

You’d fantasize about the most random of scenarios, each of them usually ending up with him bending you over his desk at the front of the room. You liked colder days the best, especially since Professor Bakugou had the habit of wearing form-fitting sweaters that outlined his massive pecs or the swell of his arms. You wanted to make him feel better, to sit underneath the desk and suck him off while he taught the rest of the class. Those narrow hips had to be strong, and you’d be damned if you never got to experience their power at least once.

It’s almost as if Professor Bakugou had cast a spell over all of his students. Nearly all of them gushed about how great he was; and, if you were in the proper company, they exchanged fantasies or proclamations about how fucking gorgeous he was. You’d usually grow bitter at these types of conversations. It was a crush, for fuck’s sake. There was no need to get all pouty like some problematic schoolgirl.

Still, the thoughts wouldn’t go away, not when he taught, not when he yelled. His booming voice became a part of your wicked fantasies, wondering how it’d sound to hear him grunting your name or commanding you to spread his legs for him. Again and again, you told yourself that it was fine, that people develop crushes on their teachers all the time. It was only in the dead of night that you’d have your hand stuffed down your pants and mouth moaning his name into a pillow was when you regretted it. It was a phase, nothing more.

And yet, over two months into the semester, and these thoughts still won’t go away. The constant ticking of the clock brings you back down to Earth, your eyes focusing on the problems before you. Swallowing thickly, you loosen your hand, now just noticing how hard you’ve begun to clench your pencil. Your insides feel oddly warm, that pleasant, heavy feeling sitting behind your belly button. Dammit, you mentally curse, this is not the time to be getting distracted.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

If only class could end sooner.

“Right,” Professor Bakugou suddenly says from his desk, “this Friday, I’m holding a study session for the upcoming exam on Monday. There’s only going to be a limited number of seats available, so if you wanna join, here’s your chance.” With his words, he holds a blank sheet of notebook paper up, a rather bored expression on his face.

He must be tired, you think, unconsciously biting your bottom lip. But why?

Around you, students shuffle to the front of the class, waiting for a chance to scribble their names onto the paper. Some seem a bit more excited than others, obviously arching their backs or flipping their hair over their shoulders. With a scoff, you look back down to your work. Did they really think they could catch his attention like that? Yeah, so he doesn’t show off a ring on his finger, but it’s pretty likely that he has people throwing themselves at him all the time. Besides, Professor Bakugou is a strict guy; there’s no way he’d engage in a relationship with a student.

You really shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. It’s pointless to pine after your teacher like that, especially with the risks that come along with getting involved with each other. Still, you can’t help but feel bitter. Professor Bakugou is a god that walks amongst men, so how could you not want somebody like him?

“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed,” Professor Bakugou calls out. Dammit, you spaced out again. Maybe you should get that checked out?

With a sigh, you stuff your belongings into your backpack and draw to a stand. You wish it would be spring already; trudging through snow and ice is never fun, and the fact that your dorm is basically on the other side of campus makes it even more rough. Pulling your coat on and slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you make way towards the classroom door, completely unaware of a set of eyes watching your every move.

-

“Man, this is impossible,” your best friend, Ashido Mina, groans. “I’m going to bomb this exam for sure!” Sprawled out on her stomach, she squirms on the floor, her face scrunching with her displeasure.

You, on the other hand, sit cross-legged across from her. Notebooks and math textbooks surround the two of you, your laptop and calculator at the ready. Bags of chips and pretzels sit to the side, along with abandoned coffee cups and empty water bottles. Professor Bakugou’s exams were notorious for being hard, but at the same time, if you payed attention in class and studied, you’d succeed. The thing is, though, that neither you nor Mina are the best when it comes to math.

“I thought you went to his study session?” you ask, glancing up from your own notebook.

Flashing you a pout, Mina nervously runs a hand through her fluffy hair. “Well, yeah, but you know how it goes! A secluded area with Professor Bakugou! It’s like a dream come true! It was hard to focus when he’s leaning over your shoulder like that…”

Rolling your eyes, you puff in amusement. “Really? Mina, you know what will happen if you fail this test.”

“Yeah, yeah, but come on! You can’t blame me! You would’ve done the exact same thing!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes you would’ve!” Mina exclaims, pointing an accusing finger your way. “Don’t pretend like you don’t ogle Professor Bakugou during class! He’s one hell of a hunk, isn’t he? I never knew college professors could be so hot!” she gushes, a giggle following her words. “And that study session – oh my god, I nearly thought I was going to heart attack when he helped me solve this one problem. He’s so warm and he smells great!”

You cock an eyebrow at her. “You were smelling our teacher?”

At that, Mina blows a raspberry and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not Kaminari, sweetheart. I have class. Besides, Professor Bakugou smells like caramel. Can you believe it? I wonder if he uses cologne or feminine soap.”

Caramel, eh? Now that’s something you can get behind.

“You want him to fuck you, right?”

Wait, what?

Narrowing your gaze at her, your brows knit closely together. “What kind of question is that?”

Mina rolls her eyes. “What, like you don’t think about it? Practically everyone on this campus has thought about it at some point or another? I mean, hello! He’s totally Daddy material. I’ve heard that he goes to the gym sometimes here on campus – turns out he’s huge.”

Huge. Of course this is what Mina chooses to focus on. You wish you had a spray bottle to squirt at her horny ass.

“And I don’t mean muscle wise,” Mina continues, a mischievous expression coming to her face. “I bet he tastes like candy.”

“Mina.”

“Why yes, Mr. Bakugou sir! I’ll gladly suck your fat cock for an A!”

“Mina.”

“His ass is really nice, too. I wouldn’t mind pegging him-“

“MINA.”

“What?”

You smack your forehead and groan as your hand trails down your face. “Are you going to study or not? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather graduate than work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life.”

Mina purses her lips at you in an excessive pout. “You’re such a fun sponge, holy shit. I think you need a good dicking down by Professor Bakugou. Maybe then you’d stop staring after him all the time during class.”

Your face heats up at her words, but there’s no way you’re owning up to that. Okay, so yeah, maybe getting fucked by him would be a dream come true, but you’re more realistic than that. “And you’re not concerned at all that he’s our teacher? You know, like he could lose his job and you could be expelled? That doesn’t bother you? At all?”

Mina shrugs. “Meh.”

“Woooow…. You really are shameless.”

“Hey, you win some, you lose some. If I could get that man to put a ring on my finger, then I’d be okay with it.”

“Yeah, because you definitely want to bring your math professor home. Uh huh, great one. Tell me how that goes.”

With a grunt, Mina rolls over and sits up. “Whatever, man. I’m hungry, so I’m going to go down to the dining hall. Wanna come with?”

Glancing at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand, you see that it’s only 5:15. True, you could get a bite to eat, but you’d rather stay back and finish a few more problems. “I think I’ll join up with you later,” you tell Mina.

She nods her head and offers you a small smile. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” Gathering up her things, she unceremoniously shoves them into her backpack and salutes you with a goodbye. After she pulls the door shut behind her, you turn back to the task at hand.

It shouldn’t be this hard to solve these last couple of problems, but your brain is really starting to feel the struggle. A dull ache is already forming between your eyeballs, and you truly wonder if you’re going to make it through this or not. Maybe you should take a break, or at least give your eyes a rest. Still, that little stubborn streak in you tells you to carry on. You only have a few more problems left, and you’re so close to finally finishing!

As you set to work, the digits on your alarm clock change as time drags on. Okay, so maybe you’re demanding too much of yourself. Your brain is absolutely fried, and your headache is spreading. Glancing back up at the clock, luminous green lines glare a 5:31. Jeez, it’s only been sixteen minutes since you last checked, yet it seems as though hours have passed. You really want to finish this study session, but the last problem is throwing you in for a loop.

You’ve already scoured your notes and the textbook for how to go about the problem, but your mind is drawing up with a blank. It has to be because you’re tired, right? It’s not that hard… Or is it?

“Dammit,” you mutter, sitting back and pressing your palms flat against the floor. Again, you look at the clock. Frankly, you don’t want to spend all night pouring over this, and you don’t want to skip dinner, either. You know for a fact that Mina will beat your ass for skipping out on food. “Screw it.”

Scrambling off the floor, you throw a thick coat on and slide on your sneakers. Professor Bakugou sometimes has the habit of frequenting his office during the weekends (or so you’ve heard), and you desperately need to know how to solve this problem. Chances are something similar will be on the exam, and you want to get as good of a grade as possible. Plus, if he is there…

You swallow thickly. Now is not the time to let Mina’s previous words get to you.

And so, with your notebook tucked underneath an arm, you take off.

It’s a damned shame that his office is practically on the other side of campus, but you figure it wouldn’t be too bad to get your body moving after spending so much time hunched over. Now that you think about, you could just email him, but you’re not sure how quick he’d respond. This is a dire moment. Okay, maybe not, but still. Maybe you want to see Professor Bakugou. Maybe.

You’re thankful when you finally enter the building, free of the flurries of snow and the seeping chill. Stomping your feet free from snow, you look around, creeped out yet fascinated by the silent, empty halls. You doubt very many people are here besides lingering staff and the janitors. One could only hope that Professor Bakugou is frequenting his office.

As you draw closer and closer to his office, your footsteps bounce off the walls, reminding you of how alone you are. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that he’s even going to be in his office, yet your heart pounds frantically in your chest. If he isn’t there, you’ll just simply turn around and stalk back to your dorm and hope for the best. If he is there, well, you’re not entirely sure what you should say.

He’s your teacher, dammit. It shouldn’t be this hard going up to him and asking him for help. It’s literally his job to help students out; nothing more, nothing less. Still, Mina’s words ring throughout your mind. It’s just a crush, you remind yourself. Stop getting so worked up about it.

There it is, just straight up ahead – Professor Bakugou’s office.

Like the other offices lining the hall, it’s made from a heavy wood, a frosted window place in the top half with Professor Bakugou’s name printed on it. A simple door like this shouldn’t intimidate you so much, but yet it does. All you have to do is knock on it, wait for a possible response, and then go from there. However, now that you’re in front of it, you somewhat hope he’s not there. Your palms are growing clammy and your throat feels fuzzy.

“Here goes nothing,” you tell yourself, reaching up and rapping on the door.

For a moment, nothing happens. Perhaps Lady Luck has decided to spare some mercy on you, after all. Releasing a pent-up breath you didn’t know you were even holding, you prepare to step back and walk away, but then a muffled come in sounds through the door.

Oh, shit.

You wince as your cowardice floods you with a renewed force. There’s no way you can just leave now, not if you want Professor Bakugou potentially chasing you down. Taking in a deep breath, you turn the brass knob and poke your head inside. “Uh, Professor Bakugou?”

Oh, shit.

There he is, sitting behind an oak desk, hunched down over a stack of papers. He holds up a single finger, a signal for you to give him a moment. Immediately, your eyes skim over his exposed forearms, skim over the tight black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. Rolled sleeves, watch on wrist, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, he’s just dripping with classy sexiness.

The steady tick tock, tick tock fills the otherwise silent room. It grates on your already wired nerves, mocks you for just standing there, waiting. You can’t help but glance at its face – 5:49. It’s already dark out, winter’s everlasting darkness sapping the Earth’s light. Stepping fully inside the room, you gently shut the door behind you, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought.

After another moment or so, he finally clicks his pen closed, tosses it onto the desk, and leans back in his chair. “Oi – what do you want?”

Removing your notebook from underneath your arm, you hold it out for him to take. “I was… I was wondering if you could explain how to work out this problem?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Professor Bakugou sits upright and glances at what you’ve written. “We discussed this during the study session on Friday.” His eyes dart up to yours. “I’m surprised you weren’t there.”

Is he singling you out right now? It feels like he’s singling you out right now. But wait, doesn’t that also mean that he noticed you not being there? He’s just saying that to say it, right? …Right?

“There was a lot on my mind,” you say softly.

Professor Bakugou sighs. “Alright, come here.” Maybe it’s the gruffness of his voice, but the simple command nearly has you whimpering on the spot. Jesus, you need to get your act together!

“Of course, sir,” you reply, the title subconsciously rolling off your tongue. Skirting around the desk, you come to his side, unaware of him shifting in his seat.

“It’s really not that hard if you put your damned brain to use,” he grunts, picking his pen back up. You notice how the tendons in his hand flex with the subtle movement; actually, now that you’re up close in personal, you can clearly see the veins racing up his forearms, the sheen of blond hairs.

Warmth seems to radiate off of him, just like how Mina said. You wonder if he gets hot easily, or if that’s just the way he is. Either way, you shimmy the slightest bit closer to him, eager to ward off the chill that still clings to you from the outside. He goes into great detail about how to go through each step surrounding the problem; you lean over his shoulder as he goes through the steps, the heat emanating from his skin drawing you in more and more. With each breath, the scent of caramel floods your senses. You’re almost half tempted to press your nose to his nape and get a better smell, but that’d just be creepy. Plus, even if you did that, Professor Bakugou could probably pick you up and literally throw you out of his office.

Still, despite knowing the risk, your mind takes off, just like it usually does whenever you’re in his presence. It would just be so easy to squeeze his thick arms, to run your fingers through his thick blonde hair. Maybe you could push the collar of his turtleneck down, expose his neck and bite the pulse. It’s almost ridiculous just how big he is, how easily he could overpower you. A familiar warmth floods your system, encasing your insides and clutching onto your heart. This is bad – very, very bad.

“Oi, what the hell are you staring at?” Professor Bakugou barks.

Snapping yourself back to attention, you notice him staring at you, his glasses now off his handsome face. If possible, he’s even more attractive up close; thick lashes, full lips, a slight gleam in his eyes that demand power and control. He almost looks entirely different like this, face lax instead of fixed with a scowl. Good lord, you really are whipped for him.

“Oh, um, sorry,” you ramble, eyes going wide. “It’s just that your hair looks really… fluffy…?”

“…Hah?”

You quickly avert your eyes. “Nevermind…”

“You know,” Professor Bakugou starts, voice low, “you stare at me a lot during class, too. You’re not very subtle.”

You wince at his words. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about-“

Rolling his eyes, he scoffs and tosses down his pen. “You’re not majoring in theatre, are you? Because you suck at acting.” He flashes you a cocky smirk when you look back to him. “Just admit it – you like what you see, don’t ya? Can’t say I blame you.”

Okay, wow, cocky much. Yeah, sure, he’s an absolute babe, but wouldn’t you think he’d be a bit more… modest?

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Didn’t know my math professor thought so highly of himself.”

“Tch. Looks like you got a damn mouth on you, after all. Well, if you’re done undressing me with your eyes, do you want to learn how to do this problem or not? I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll let it slide just this once since I like you.”

Wait, wait, hold up. Did he just say he likes you?

“You’re a good student,” Professor Bakugou continues. “Even if you do focus on me more than my lecture.”

Is this how the conversation was supposed to play out? Because damn you’re nearly shaking, and you still have your coat on. He knows too much, dammit. He’s known this entire time and he’s playing you.

“And yet you could’ve easily told me to stop,” you shoot right back, sick of being prosecuted like this. Sure, it might be a bad idea to pick a fight with a teacher, but this is outside of classroom hours; and, frankly, he can kiss your ass. Crude demeanor or not, you’re not about to let this man push you around.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

No. There’s no way he just said that. This big-headed narcissist is relishing in this, isn’t he? Bastard.

“Hate to break it to you, Professor, but almost everyone stares at you like that,” you tell him. You realize you just admitted it to the accusation, but there’s no point in defending it anymore.

“Like I give a shit about the others? Really? You’re gonna talk about them?” He scoffs his amusement and leans back in his chair, thick arms crossing over his chest. “Did you come here to ask me questions about the exam or did you just want to be with me all by yourself?”

You hesitate. Is that really the reason you came here tonight? The whole way here you debated this yourself, Mina’s words circling around your head. No, you’re smarter than this. It’s a bad idea to get involved with a teacher – it’s wrong.

“I’m not going to lie or deny the truth,” Professor Bakugou continues, his voice dropping to an uncharacteristically low pitch. “I’m also not stupid. You’re just as scared as me, aren’t you? Of the repercussions.”

Your mouth falls agape. What is he going on about…?

Slowly, Professor Bakugou sits back up, his face getting dangerously close to yours. Hot breath fans over the bottom half of your face. His eyes are heavily lidded, his lashes kissing his cheeks. “I’m not going to force anything on you,” he murmurs. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Oh my god.

Unable to resist the close proximity anymore, you shoot forward, your hands landing on the arms of the chair; Professor Bakugou’s lips are softer than you anticipated, but in no way is he gentle. Right away he’s clutching the back of your neck, dragging you forward so you’re settled on his lap. The arms of the chair pinch into your thighs at the tight fit, but you could care less. You’re on Professor Bakugou’s lap, you have his tongue in your mouth, his hands landing on your ass and kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this forever,” he growls, his hands slipping under your shirt and gliding over your lower back. You arch into his touch, a breathless moan slipping past your lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you pant.

“I know.”

Fuck, it’s all so good, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth and hands unbuttoning your jeans. A startled noise erupts from your throat as a large hand slides into the front of your pants, cupping your crotch. You buck into his touch, all sense dissipating from your thoughts as you fervently grind into his heated palm. There’s a clutter of paper and office supplies as they hit the floor. Before you know it, you’re rising from the chair, your ass landing on the wooden desk instead.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Professor Bakugou grits. Your ass is barely on the desk by the time he’s done dragging you forward, your jeans aggressively getting yanked off, your underwear following suit. Your thighs instinctively snap shut at the cold air making contact with your bared skin, but strong hands pry them apart, fingertips kneading into the flesh. “I wanna make you cum with my tongue.”

“Wai- Ah! Fuck!” you cry out, your fingers clutching onto the edge of the desk as his head ducks down, his mouth latching onto your sex. Until now, you weren’t even aware that you were dripping with arousal. Sinful noises spill from between your legs as Professor Bakugou fucks you with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive parts.

“God, you’re such a slut.”

Smack.

You cry out as he brings a hand down on the innermost part of your thigh; your nerves quake, your blood pumps wildly through your veins. Again, he slaps your thigh, a growl tearing itself from his chest as he looks up, his eyes catching yours.

“Say it.”

Smack.

“I – I’m a slut,” you babble, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

Smack.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m a slut!” you exclaim, voice cracking.

“I expect you to refer to me properly,” he says darkly, his pupils dilating to the point where you could barely see his irises. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

A single smirk is thrown your way before his mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. His moves are quick, sensual. It’s clear he’s experienced, and you don’t blame him. Just look at him for Christ’s sake. The man is basically sex on legs, all nicely wrapped up in a turtleneck sweater and a simple pair of slacks. The pleasure only heightens as his fingers come into play, prodding at your hole; the tips just barely push past the muscle, leaving you moaning even louder and clutching harder on the desk. Your fingernails scratch the surface, the lacquer coming off.

“Tasty little brat, aren’t ya?” he drawls. Your entire body jolts as he spits on your sex. “I could get used to doing this.”

“Please, sir,” you plead, desperation filling your voice. You want his mouth back on you. You want to cum. “Please, it feels so good…”

Professor Bakugou clicks his tongue. “Shit, you’re even obedient. How nice.” He redoubles his efforts, then, wet noises filling the room along with your heavy breathing.

“Shit, shit, oh my god,” you babble, your body tensing. Still, his tongue digs in just right and there goes your sanity, flying out the window as you cum.

A deep chuckle fills your ears as Professor Bakugou sucks it down; drawing away, he flashes you his tongue, your arousal coating his tongue before he makes a show of swallowing the last bit of it. Wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, he draws to a stand. The tent in his slacks is obvious, the front of it darker than the rest. Your insides squeeze around nothing, the idea of making him get like that making you feel hotter than before.

You’re hypnotized as he pulls his hands away. His movements are slow and methodical, the clink of his belt echoing throughout the room. Swallowing thickly, you bite your lip as he leisurely undoes his belt and slacks. Blood rushes through your ears, your mind a complete mess. You feel dizzy with want, with the need to sink your teeth into the swell of his pectoral, to claw the plains of his back.

All the air is sucked from your lungs when he finally pulls his cock out, the head flushed a deep red. Your eyes trail over the prominent veins, the fat bead of precum pushing its way out the tip. Fuck, he’s huge, both in length and girth. Whoever told Mina that he was big wasn’t lying. Your legs subconsciously spread even wider, a silent plead for him to fill you up and fuck you raw.

“Tell me you want this,” he husks. He does the honor of unzipping your coat and slipping it off your shoulders before easing you onto your back. The cold from the wood permeates through your shirt, brings a new wave of goosebumps to your flesh.

“Only if you tell me the same thing,” you croak. “Do you fuck all of your students who walk in through that door?”

“No,” Professor Bakugou blatantly says, and you can tell he’s being earnest. “It’s wrong of me to think so, but I’ve been wanting to do something with you since I saw you. It sounds like some sappy bullshit, but it’s the truth. I was too much of a pussy to ask you out for a coffee.”

Something about hearing him confess his feelings to you sets your heart alight. A slight smile tugs at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Tch. And you’re a fucking brat.”

Hunching over you, a large hand plants itself by your head while the other guides his cock to your awaiting hole. A shaky breath passes through your mouth as he pushes himself in; the stretch burns, his thick cock filling you up in a way that you didn’t even know was possible.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes. “Look at you, sucking in my cock like that. What a good little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? I bet you touched yourself while thinking about this very moment, about me fucking you on my desk like this.” A surprised squeak bursts from your throat as he grabs your legs and throws him over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half. “Gotta fuck you nice and deep, right? Because that’s how a slut like you likes it.”

Like this, with your knees almost touching your ears, the tip of his cock hits your soft spot. A pathetic whimper comes from you as he grinds his cock into you, his eyes carefully watching your erotic expressions, figuring out what you like best.

Before long, he’s fucking into with vigor, his hips moving restlessly. His cock pounds into you mercilessly, the slap of skin against skin mixing with your cries. His mouth is at your throat, teeth skimming your jugular before he latches onto your thundering pulse. You helplessly claw at his shoulders, your fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt. You’re so fucking full, your velvety walls clamping around his cock selfishly. A blend of curses and yes, fuck, you fucking slut fill your ears; he’s panting hard, a slight chuckle breaking through every once in a while.

“Fucking let everyone know who’s fucking you this good,” he grits. “Jesus, look at the mess you’re making…”

“Professor Bakugou!” you whine. “Your cock feels so good… Fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes-“

“Katsuki. My name is Katsuki.”

Katuski.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. It settles on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be let out.

It’s when you cum that you shout his name, your walls tightening around him harshly while your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. A load groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as he follows suit shortly after, his hips moving erratically as his cum splashes against your insides.

The both of you are sweating, panting messes by the time he finally pulls out. You whimper as you clench around nothing, the emptiness a bit too much to bear. Surprisingly, Professor Bakugou – no, Katsuki – is gentle as he cleans you up, his free hand rubbing your side. Swallowing your pride, you clear your throat.

His eyes flick up, land on yours. “What.”

“Do you…” You worry your bottom lip. “Do you want to get coffee sometime?”

Katsuki snorts. “Wow, got a real fucking charmer here, don’t I? How about you come to my place instead and I make you a proper dinner. You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

As if on cue, your stomach growls. Well, you did deny Mina’s offer for dinner, after all. You smile nervously and give him a shrug.

Chest swelling (with pride, you assume), Katsuki flashes you a cocky smile. “I’m a damn good cook, brat. I’ll cook a meal that will have you weak in the knees.”

“Maybe… Maybe you could finally show me how to do that problem?” you offer.

He rolls his eyes. “Will you finally pay attention this time or will I have to pound it into your brain?”

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 3.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 29th July 2021

Word count: 4 219

Warnings: none

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 2.)

Chap. 3.

The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.

You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.

You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.

But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.

Baekhyun must have thought similarly.

You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.

You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.

“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.

“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.

“You want to drink something before we go?”

You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.

“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”

“You can tell I need it?”

“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”

His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.

He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.

“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.

“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.

“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.

“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”

“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.

“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”

And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.

“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”

You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.

“I don’t think there’s anything important.”

“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.

“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly.

“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.

“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”

“I-I know.”

“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”

“Oh.”

“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.

His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.

You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.

The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.

It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.

Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.

“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.

“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.

“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.

“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”

“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”

He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.

“Hungry?”

“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.

Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.

“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).

You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.

“You worked today?” you asked.

“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”

Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.

“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”

That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.

“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.

“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.

“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.

“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.

“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”

You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.

“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”

The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.

“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.

“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”

“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.

“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”

“…I may,” you answered carefully.

“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”

“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.

Baekhyun was silent for a moment.

“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”

“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.

“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.

“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.

“You have anything on your mind?”

“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.

“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”

“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.

“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”

The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.

“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.

Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.

“Well then, shall we start?”

* * *

You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.

Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.

Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?

Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.

Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.

“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”

You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.

“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.

You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.

“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”

The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.

“Is it necessary…?”

“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”

“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.

“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”

You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.

Apparently, not well enough.

The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.

Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.

“Spread.”

You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.

“You’re slouching again.”

“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.

You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.

You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.

“You want to be a pet?”

He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.

“Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.

But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!

Next (Chapter 4.)

[blossomkoushi]

it’s what you feel, when you love someone.

summary: tsukishima kei spends his life discovering love. and the heartache that comes with it.

warnings: reader is a bit of an ass, but so is tsukishima one time, childhood friends AU, unrequited love, heartache, heartbreak, general angst things like that. gender neutral reader, referred to as “stinky” in texts. truly all hurt and no comfort in this one.

word count: 2.1k

A/N: i haven’t written angst in forever, so please let me know if this was okay or what i could improve on! i absolutely love angst and i want to get better at writing it, so any and all feedback is appreciated. fic is based off this prompt, thank you for requesting!

The sun shines through Tsukishima’s window. 7:30am. Rolling over in his bed and sighing, he reaches for his phone. The text messages you’d sent after he’d gone to bed sit at the top of the screen. A small smile grows on his face.

[from: stinky, sent at 1:43am] >> kei-kei, did you know that fish cough? Isn’t that so weird? >> like how does that even work >> wait I found a youtube video, look! >> *stinky sent a link* >> …doesn’t really look like coughing, does it? It’s more like a yawn >> kei-kei are you sleeping? >> laaaame >> sleeping is dumb

The nickname makes his heart flutter, just for a moment. It’d always had that effect on him, the blush creeping up on his face until he trained himself to keep it down.

[to: stinky, 7:34am] >> why were you sending me texts about fish at 1:40 in the morning >> stupid

Tsukishima pauses for a moment, hesitating before sending another text.

[to: stinky, 7:36am] >> are you still coming by practice later?

Getting out of bed, he starts getting ready for his morning class and practice. A part of him is grateful that you decided to go to the same university as him, being able to see you nearly every day made his life brighter. Not that he’d ever tell you that.

He’s out the door and walking to class when you text him back.

[from: stinky, 8:27am] >> obviously, I need to go see how ‘Taro is doing >> could you steal his shirt so I can see his abs during practice? >> *image attached*

Some kind of horny meme that Tsukishima never bothered to pay attention to, the kinds you always send when talking about his teammate, Kyoutani.

[from: stinky, 8:29am] >> oh, and you’ll be there too, ig

There it is.

He knows it’s a joke. He knows that he’s your best friend and you’re only joking. But the sinking in his chest and the knot tightening in his stomach is refusing to listen to his reasoning.

Swallowing down any anxious and sad feelings, he shakes his head and starts typing away at his phone.

[to: stinky, 8:30am] >> great. I’ll see you after class

Another message of seemingly random emojis pop up on his screen and he pockets his phone, taking a seat in the classroom and bringing out his notebook. He can feel himself zoning out before the professor even starts speaking.

-

Love is a strange word to Tsukishima Kei. It’s something his mom, and occasionally brother, say to him. Something on instinct, as if a promise would be broken if the words weren’t uttered.

Tsukishima had been 5 years old when he asked his mom about it. At the time he only repeated it back to her, an echo of her declaration, unaware of what he was promising her.

“it’s a feeling, Kei. Love is what you feel when you care for someone deeply. And so, you tell them.”

“do you have to say it?”

His mom stops for a moment, pondering before brushing his hair back and shaking her head. “no, you don’t have to say it. But you should at least show it to the people you love.”

Tsukishima continued telling his mom that he loves her up until elementary school. He still loves her after that, but his priorities shifted.

-

Tsukishima had been 8 years old when he realizes that he loves you.

The feeling grew stronger every day, your smile brightening his day and your laughter making his heart flutter in a strange way.

“Kei-Kei! Look, I found a snail! There’s more over there, come on!” your excited voice made his heart swell in his chest. Your small hand gripped his, tugging him through the mud and puddles on the yard, giggling happily despite the rain pouring down.

He starts drawing you pictures of snails. Small doodles placed on your desk before recess. He points them out after it’s rained, pulling you along to bend down and watch them slowly drag along the road on the way home from school.

You get interested in frogs, cats, worms, bees, even ants for a while. Tsukishima joined your obsessions, indulging you with drawings, books and pictures. One time he collected worms in a bucket on his walk home, handing them to you when he arrived at your house, knowing that you were ill and hoping the wigglies, as you called them, would make you happier. The smile you gave him burned into his mind, and he wanted to see it again and again until the end of time.

He loves you, even his young mind can grasp that. He hopes that you can tell.

-

Tsukishima is 12 years old when he realizes that he’s in love with you.

Valentine’s day was never something he’d pay attention to. It seemed silly to him, a whole day just to talk about love? Stupid. Love is something you feel, so you say it or show it and that’s that, why spend a whole day talking about it?

That is, until you run up to him the day before, excitement flashing in your eyes.

“Kei-Kei, do you know what day it is tomorrow?” your hands gripped his arms, nearly shaking him. The familiar blush grows on his face and he shakes his head, hoping you don’t notice how his skin is turning pinker by the second. “it’s valentine’s day! I heard some of the older boys talking in the hallway about what they’re doing for their girlfriends and it seems so cute! Like, oh, one is going to take his girlfriend out roller skating, isn’t that so romantic? And this other boy was saying that-“

Tsukishima tunes your voice out, focusing his attention to your lips moving. Your hands are still gripping his arms and a part of him wishes that you’d never let go, feeling his skin burning under his clothes. You’re standing so close; he could lean his head forward just a bit and his lips could be on yours. If he just-

“-Oh! And I heard some girls talking before gym that the boys in our class were going to confess to their crushes tomorrow! Do you think anyone will confess to me? I hope so” your words snap him back to reality. His eyes go slightly wide, looking into yours. Confess? You wanted one of the stupid boys in your class to confess?

A twinge of discomfort stabs in his stomach, his body filling with sudden annoyance. “no way” he scoffs.

He’s never regretted anything more in his life.

The excitement drains from your eyes and your hands fall from his arms. Before he can think, your chin quivers and you nod silently, turning around and running away.

The discomfort in his stomach only grows, changing and chafing along with an ache in his chest, all annoyance drained from his body in an instance.

He draws a picture of a snail and dinosaur, writing your names over them. Underneath he scribbles an apology. A quick “I’m sorry”, and he places it in your mailbox on his way home.

The next day, he sees you on the yard of the school, standing excitedly in front of a boy and throwing your arms around him.

-

Tsukishima is 13 years old when he realizes that you don’t love him back. Not in the way he wants.

Though, to be honest, he knew from the moment he saw you with the boy from your class walk home together from school, hand in hand.

You’re both in junior high and all you seem to want to talk about is your stupid boyfriend. It’s a different boy, not the same one he saw you with that previous February. This one is taller, not as tall as Tsukishima, but you say that height isn’t something you look for in a boyfriend. He can’t help but to feel the jealousy and sadness seep in at that.

“he’s older, you know. He’s turning 15 in a few weeks and he says that I can meet his family at his birthday party.” You’re seated on Tsukishima’s bed while he’s at the desk, trying to tune you out and do his homework. He hopes you’ll stop talking about him and do the same. You don’t. “oh, and I know you’ve never had a girlfriend, so you won’t know this, but he’s such a good kisser. Like, you can definitely tell that he’s got some experience compared to my ex. Isn’t that so weird? Me? Having an ex?”

Tsukishima doesn’t like this. You’re changing, trying to be older than you actually are to impress this older boy that he’s never even met. Not that he wants to. He’s gotten used to the dull ache of his heart breaking over and over again, the steady and constant reminder that you won’t ever see him the way that he sees you. He’s mastered the art of seeming okay, masking his feelings and pushing them deep down where no living soul will ever see them. But if he had to see you with this… boyfriend… he’s not sure that he’d recover.

So instead, he shuts up. He stays quiet and lets you babble on about all the little things that this boy does for you, letting the ache in his chest grow and grow. It’s better than the alternative, telling you how he feels. No, that’s not an option. He can’t risk losing you.

-

Tsukishima Kei is an idiot. He knows this for a fact after having to watch you pine after endless boys and men all the way up until university. Boyfriends that come and go, the make out sessions that he gets graphic descriptions of and a constant damp shoulder from holding you after your heart gets broken.

He pretends to laugh along when you joke about him being single for so long, his heart squeezing painfully at the reminder that his long-time crush has eyes for every man except him.

-

He only comes back from his heart-break haze when he steps into the gym after class. Only he wishes that he hadn’t.

Calling out a greeting, he sees you standing alone with Kyoutani. Except he’s not sure if it counts as standing, it’s more of a pinning to the wall. Kyoutani’s body caging you in, your back pressed to the wall with your hands around his neck. Even from a distance, he can see your usual excited smile, happy to have gotten attention from the boy you’d been pining after.

“sorry.” Tsukishima can only mutter, quickly turning around and walking out the gym again. He can hear your muffled voice, probably reassuring Kyoutani that it’s okay. He wishes that he’d walked faster, so he would’ve missed the unmistakable sounds of kissing and your soft sighs.

Tsukishima hasn’t let himself cry over you in years. He forces himself to go numb, push away any and all bad feelings until his breathing gets steady and he can look you in the eye again.

But this time, he can’t stop it. He’s fallen to the floor as soon as the bathroom door locks behind him. It’s disgusting, sitting on the floor with his hands pressed to his eyes, trying to force the tears back inside. His classes clink onto the floor, skidding away from him as his body shakes.

Tears stream down his face and drips down his shirt, turning the fabric into a blotchy mess, matching his flushed face and the snot running from his nose. His sobs echo off the walls, arms hugging his knees while the image of your body pressed against his teammate flashes behind his eyes every time he blinks.

He hasn’t cried over you in years. So, when it all hits him, it hits hard.

He misses practice completely, spending his time laying on the filthy floor in the bathroom and clutching his chest, trying to bring the broken pieces back together. He finally stands after what feels like an eternity. Picking up his glasses from the floor, he puts them on and watches himself in the mirror. Face flushed pink, eyes bloodshot and snot running from his nose, he thinks about what his mother said when he was a kid.

“love is what you feel when you care for someone deeply.”

A bitter laugh fills the room, his own hard eyes meeting him in the mirror.

His mother was wrong. Love isn’t what you feel when you care for someone deeply. All you feel is pain. The dull twisting of a knife in your chest as you watch the one you love fall for someone else, over and over again until you accept that their soft and loving eyes will never meet yours. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself when you’re standing in the bathroom of the gym where you saw said person fall in love with someone new. That you’ve accepted it.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 2 -

- Ao3 link -

“If you want A-Jue at this time of day, he’ll be at the training field,” Lao Nie said, standing up and immediately striding off in that direction. “Oh, and Qiren, I will warn you – he has his mother’s height.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes as he followed behind. “That’s helpful information,” he remarked. “Right up until you recall that I have never had the pleasure of meeting his mother –”

He stopped talking and stared.

“I didn’t think a further explanation was necessary,” Lao Nie said. He wasn’t quite at the level of sniggering into his sleeve, but he certainly had a shit-eating grin. Lao Nie was not a short man by any standard, although he was squatter, more muscular and more broad-shouldered than the tall and slender Lan sect  – and yet…

“He’s under ten,” Lan Qiren checked, and Lao Nie nodded. “You’re sure.”

“I was present at the birth myself, and have cared for him ever since. And before you ask, I may be busy with my duties as sect leader, but I still feel like I would have noticed someone swapping him out for a child several years older.”

Lan Qiren squinted out at the training field, where a child (and it was a child, given the amount of baby fat in his cheeks, even if the overall size was more what he’d expect of a teenager) was happily dismembering a training dummy with an especially fearsome-looking saber under the tolerant supervisory gaze of the training master.

“Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren finally said. “About that first wife of yours…you would tell me if she were an actual giant – or a goddess –”

Lao Nie laughed and patted him on the back. He did not answer the question.

“A-Jue! Come here!” he shouted, and Nie Mingjue – demonstrating excellent discipline – completed his strike before turning around and trotting over to his father. “Say hello to Teacher Lan.”

“Teacher Lan,” Nie Mingjue said obediently, saluting properly like every small child introduced to a stranger, and then looked up. A smile suddenly spread over his face. “Oh, Teacher Lan! Fighting without permission is prohibited!”

Lan Qiren choked and Lao Nie burst out laughing.

“That was seven years ago,” Lan Qiren protested, and Lao Nie only howled more. “You were an infant. How do you even remember that?”

“It was interesting!” Nie Mingjue beamed. “You said that every word in the rule is like a principle – even if you have the rule, you have to agree on what it means. What counts as fighting, what counts as permission, what counts as prohibited…I use it lots!”

“He has a good memory,” Lao Nie said, wiping his eyes. “You should hear how many profanities he’s learned.”

“I would rather not,” Lan Qiren said hastily, because Nie Mingjue looked on the verge of volunteering to recite them. “Nie Mingjue, can you show me around?”

“Of course, Teacher Lan! Let me just put Baxia away first; I’m not allowed to carry her outside the training field yet. Unless there’s an accident, of course.”

Lan Qiren did not ask. As a sect leader who did not share a border with Qishan Wen, he didn’t think he had the right.

“Take your time,” he said, putting his hands behind his back and watching as Nie Mingjue ran away.

“Would it help to have me there?” Lao Nie asked, and nodded when Lan Qiren shook his head. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Lan Qiren did not put forward any requests, curious to see where Nie Mingjue would take him, and was reluctantly charmed by the fact that their first destination was the nursery, where several pudgy toddlers of indeterminable age were sleeping.

“My baby brother,” Nie Mingjue explained, very seriously, inadvertently driving home that the fact that he was as tall as Lan Qiren’s elbow didn’t make him any older than he was. “He’s little.”

Lan Qiren couldn’t even tell which one of the indiscriminate toddlers wrapped in blankets was meant to be Nie Huaisang, but he nodded, and Nie Mingjue led him onwards, initially mostly silent with belated shyness but eventually coaxed into chattering.

In the evening, he returned to Lao Nie’s study.

“Well?” Lao Nie asked, face creased into the scowl he had on more often than not, despite being widely considered one of the more even-tempered Nie. “What do you think?”

“I think your son is a bright and enthusiastic boy,” Lan Qiren said. “With a remarkable sense of justice and morality that will serve him well, although maybe not so much in terms of politics. He’s very…straightforward.”

“Yes, well, I’m still holding out hope on A-Sang for the tact,” Lao Nie said. “That wasn’t my question and you know it.”

Lan Qiren tried to collect his thoughts. “I don’t think you’ve damaged him for life,” he finally said, and Lao Nie’s shoulders relaxed in a sudden exhalation of what was probably months of increasing stress. “I do think he would benefit from understanding a little bit more about what’s happening to him.”

“But he’s so young.”

“I know. Normally, I wouldn’t introduce the subject of his own mortality at this level of complexity this early – although I assume it’s hard for him to miss the concept entirely, given the political situation –” Lao Nie winced in acknowledgment. “– but I don’t think you have much of a choice. You’re not the only one who noticed the saber spirit.”

Lao Nie frowned, then understood, and frowned even deeper. “He’s noticed it?”

“I got him talking on the subject of his saber,” Lan Qiren said. “He regards it in the same manner as other children his age would an imaginary friend. It’s female, apparently.”

Based on the description, Baxia also had what he would, in one of his students, term a personality. He supposed it was possible that Nie Mingjue was just projecting the parts of himself that weren’t quite fit for company, since surely no one could be that earnest, and yet, based on what Lao Nie had told him…

Lao Nie groaned and put his hand to his head. “Jiwei didn’t develop a sense of gender for years,” he grumbled, and Lan Qiren was moderately certain that he hadn’t intended to admit that out loud. “This is ridiculous. I want him to live a good life, Qiren. A long one, insofar as that’s possible for our sect.”

“I’ll try to do some research,” Lan Qiren said. “In the meantime, could he be convinced to cultivate something else in addition to a saber? Music, perhaps?”

“You’re welcome to try. He’s practically tone-deaf.”

“Perhaps arrays, then, or talismans,” Lan Qiren said. “It would do him some good to find another thing to pour all that energy of his into.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lao Nie allowed. “And I appreciate any research you’re able to do, though of course there are limitations on your time – and what we can allow to be taken out of the Unclean Realm.”

Lan Qiren waved a hand. “It’s nothing. I enjoy keeping busy, and the subject is fascinating. Have you considered that regular visits by me might draw attention?”

Attention from within their sects they could handle, but they were both sect leaders – or acting sect leader, in Lan Qiren’s case – and their actions could never truly be wholly their own.

“I have a plan for that,” Lao Nie said. “It’ll work better if you don’t know about it, though.”

Lan Qiren hated plans like that.

“Very well,” he said, aware that he sounded like he was sulking. “If you must.”

“Could I send him to you next year?” Lao Nie asked, and Lan Qiren forgot his grumpiness to gape at him. “I wouldn’t impose this year, naturally, since you must already have a curriculum planned. But next year…”

“If you send him, that will be making a statement,” Lan Qiren said.

A statement about what, exactly, he did not know, but there was a major difference between being the sort of teacher that was respected enough to teach the sect heirs of some small, out-of-the-way sects and being entrusted with the childhood education of the heir to a Great Sect. Even if Nie Mingjue learned nothing, which seemed unlikely given his earnest performance from earlier, the other small sects would immediately want to follow suit, as if to rub off some of the same luck for themselves – he would be flooded with applicants.

His sect elders were going to hate it.

Although it wasn’t exactly against any of the rules…

“That’s why I’m asking your permission.” Lao Nie grinned at him, his teeth flashing white under his nearly trimmed beard. “Also, while you’re our guest here – you did plan to stay at least a week or two, right? Good, good. I will insist upon you joining me for some night-hunts.”

“Lao Nie…”

“I’ve explained to you how my sect cultivates our sabers. Are you really saying that you can judge that without seeing it happening?”

“You know perfectly well that I’m a weak fighter,” Lan Qiren said, even though that was a very good point, and one he probably would have insisted on himself sooner or later. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

“You never have,” Lao Nie said right to his face – the Nie sect did not discourage all lying, the scoundrels. “I’m serious! You’re not the fastest, no, but you’re perceptive, analytical, and creative. The insights I gain from hunting by your side are long-term gains, making me faster and more efficient in the future.”

“You’re flattering me,” Lan Qiren said suspiciously.

“I am not. The first time we went on a night-hunt together, you stopped by the river to rest and told me about how the flowers growing there were unique because they absorbed spiritual energy but not resentful energy on account of being too close to flowing water; three years later, I used that fact to find a gigantic nest of ghosts and demonic creatures that were using it as camouflage. They’d killed nearly a dozen villagers by that point and no one else could find them, but I did.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears heating up. “…that’s a coincidence.”

“Do you really want me to start naming other examples?”

“I would rather you showed me your library,” Lan Qiren said. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. He was probably blushing. No one else ever teased him the way Lao Nie did, except maybe Cangse Sanren. He was suddenly hit by a nostalgic desire to see her again. “At once, if you please. And also…”

He trailed off.

“Why the hesitation?” Lao Nie asked. “Do you really think there’s anything I would deny you, as long as you find a way to help my son?”

Lan Qiren cleared his throat. “It would be helpful if I could examine a more mature saber spirit that has already bonded to a human master. Your Jiwei, for instance.”

As he expected, Lao Nie scowled at the suggestion of someone else examining his spiritual weapon – and his saber spirit, no less – but after a few moments he collected himself and nodded, albeit begrudgingly. “I’ll leave her with you,” he said. “Be careful when you examine her – she doesn’t like to be touched by anyone but me.”

Lao Nie’s warning turned out to be both true, untrue, and an understatement of frankly shocking proportions.

During the course of Lan Qiren’s investigations into the subject of the Nie sect sabers over the next few months, and thereafter, he determined that the best, if not only, way to deal with Jiwei was to act as though he were handling a particularly vicious and single-minded dog.

Jiwei, it seemed, liked to bite.

If one treated her like a normal saber – an inert piece of metal – she would appear completely quiescent right up until there would be an abrupt and inexplicable accident, clattering off the table with the blade curving straight at clothing and flesh, and only very quick reflexes could prevent disaster. If one attempted to utilize spiritual energy with her, it would be even worse: she would pull as much as she could and feed back nothing, spiteful and ruthless.

A vicious creature, too quick to judge, loyal only to her master, who she loved.

A bit like Lao Nie, in fact. Lan Qiren did not delude himself into mistaking Lao Nie’s passion for righteousness – Nie Mingjue was righteous, a serious child that was always wondering what was right, while Lao Nie was more inclined towards brutal, even callous, practicality that focused on what benefited him and his sect. He would do good, of course, but he could not be forced into it; he had his pride, his temper, and sometimes he erred too much in favor of those over even common sense.

But despite all his rough edges, he did truly love his friends.

He dragged Lan Qiren all over Qinghe whenever he visited, on night-hunts and to resolve minor conflicts, the sort of thing any normal traveling cultivator might do; he showed him the small towns and the hidden cities that Lan Qiren would not have seen on any normal visit, and asked him to play songs for his little family. Nie Huaisang was enraptured by the music, Nie Mingjue largely indifferent – Lao Nie had not been wrong to call him practically tone-deaf – and Lao Nie beaming all the while, even if Lan Qiren suspected that his eldest son’s lack of musical appreciation had largely come from him.

He even, after a stray comment, managed to track down Cangse Sanren, who brought her husband and son to the Unclean Realm and left them in Nie Mingjue’s earnest care while she sat with the two of them, drinking liquor as if it were water to the point that even Lao Nie refused to compete with her – when his protests were eventually overridden, Lan Qiren (who drank tea, of course) was roped in to be their long-suffering judge.

It was a good night.

“Is that another thing I took from you?” He Kexin unexpectedly asked Lan Qiren a week after Lao Nie had publicly announced that he would be sending Nie Mingjue to the Cloud Recesses for Lan Qiren’s classes. The ensuing hubbub, as Lan Qiren expected, had been enormous, and he’d braced himself to discuss nothing else for months, although he hadn’t really expected her to mention it.

The Cloud Recesses separated men and women, and He Kexin had borne two sons; they were old enough by now to live primarily with the men rather than the women, and so they had entered Lan Qiren’s care. He brought them to visit her once a month, and came himself like clockwork every two weeks in between to update her as to their progress, his eyes fixed firmly above her head as he narrated the report as if he were a junior returning from a night-hunt. It was not her fault that his brother had fallen in love with her and ruined Lan Qiren’s life, but it had been her decision to murder a man that had served as the trigger for the situation; Lan Qiren was meticulous about his duty to her as his sister-in-law, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Or her.

By this point, she was moderately good at respecting that. In the beginning, she’d cursed him viciously every time he came to see her, especially after he’d provided her with definitive proof of her former friend’s lies and machinations. Later, she’d tried flirting with him out of what he could only assume was boredom or perhaps a willful misunderstanding as to why he still visited, assuming that he had perfidious motivations or shared his brother’s taste in women instead of suffering from an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his brother’s misdeeds. It had taken him several months and, eventually, an explicit offer to even notice, and he’d nearly broken his neck fleeing from the scene.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he said, still looking above her head instead of at her face. He Kexin had A-Huan’s smile and A-Zhan’s eyes, he knew that, but if he could scrub all of her other features from his mind, he would.

“Sect Leader Nie,” she said, and it was so odd to hear someone refer to Lao Nie by his formal title outside of a political situation or deliberate insult – even Wen Ruohan habitually called him Lao Nie by now, and as far as Lan Qiren could tell, they despised each other – that Lan Qiren’s eyes actually dropped to meet hers. “If you weren’t sect leader, you could’ve married him.”

Lan Qiren choked on air. “Do you think of nothing but sex all day?” he spat out, his cheeks going red. “We are friends.”

“I don’t have much else to think of,” He Kexin said, and he glared as if to communicate whose fault is that and maybe in your next life you won’t solve your problems with murder. “I heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with him, and now he’s sending his son to your care. It’s suggestive.”

“Talking behind the backs of others is forbidden,” Lan Qiren reminded her, and she shrugged. “Do I need to discipline your servants?”

“It’s news, not gossip,” she said. “And no, these ones are fine. No one’s playing any tricks.”

There had been an incident early on, where a few of the servants assigned to care for He Kexin had mistaken her confinement for abandonment; they had not expected Lan Qiren to grimly continue visiting as he would have done if she had been his sister-in-law in the normal course of things, nor to listen when she complained. He had of course taken all necessary measures to have the offenders harshly disciplined and expelled, replaced with servants of good character and sufficient intelligence to keep her company without seeking to take advantage, and there had been no new incidents since.

Her punishment was confinement, not torment. No matter what Lan Qiren felt about her, she would receive exactly that – neither more nor less.

“Is it Cangse Sanren, then?” she asked, propping her head up on her chin. “You fell in love with her, and then she married another man…”

“Sometimes people are just friends,” he said, irritated. “Why must I be in love with anyone?”

He Kexin shrugged. “Don’t you want to marry, one day? Have children of your own, rather than always reporting back to me on mine?”

“I’m acting sect leader,” Lan Qiren said tightly. “A marriage, much less children, would give rise to accusations that I was seeking to usurp my brother’s place or my nephews’ inheritance.”

“So it is another thing I’ve done,” she said, looking down at her hands. They were clenched tightly into fists, her knuckles white; sometimes Lan Qiren thought she wanted to punch him as a means of venting her feelings, and sometimes he didn’t even blame her for it. “I had only been thinking about it in the sense that you couldn’t leave, but you can’t even bring anyone back.”

“I don’t especially want to, anyway,” he said, because it was true. Even if she was right, that even his right to marry freely had been taken from him, it didn’t mean that she had the right to use it as a whip on her own back. If Lan Qiren couldn’t bring himself to obey the rule about not holding grudges, he could at least follow the ones about being generous and easy on others. “I haven’t found the right person.”

“And it’s really not Lao Nie?” He Kexin asked. “You go to visit him often, and for longer periods, than you go anywhere else, and A-Huan says you look happy whenever you’re going to go.”

Lan Qiren shrugged. He was happy to go. He enjoyed Lao Nie’s company, and the research, even when Lao Nie was too busy for him personally, and Lao Nie’s role as an allied sect leader meant that Lan Qiren had more latitude in arranging such visits than he did to other places.

“…A-Zhan says that your hands are white when you return.”

Lan Qiren’s eyes dropped to his arms, where there was in fact some white peeking out from beneath his sleeves – white bandages on his left wrist and the two smallest fingers on his right hand, this time, from the latest incident in which Jiwei had tried to slash him, but it was barely a nick in comparison with previous instances; he thought that it was a sign that they might be getting somewhere.

A moment later, he realized the implications of her statement and glared at her. “You’re not seriously asking if Lao Nie is abusing me? Weren’t you asking about my marriage prospects with him only a moment ago?”

“The two are not mutually exclusive,” she said dryly. “And the Nie temper is well known.”

“It’s from research,” Lan Qiren said. “I dropped a saber and I knocked over the table on to my other hand when trying to dodge.”

“I believe you,” she said, lips twitching. “If only because you would’ve come up with a more dignified excuse if it was a lie.”

“I don’t actually have to explain myself to you,” he said, reminding himself as much as her. “Is there anything else you want to know about your sons?”

“No,” she said. “But I’d like my husband to visit me again, if you can arrange it.”

He nodded stiffly.

“You know,” she said, playing idly with her sleeves. “If you never marry, I’ll be the closest thing you ever have to a wife? You manage my house, you raise my children, and you even provide me with services in bed, albeit indirectly.”

Do not succumb to rage, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and left without another word.

(Later, when Cangse Sanren next visited the Cloud Recesses, her husband taking A-Huan on a ride on their donkey with A-Zhan and A-Ying tucked into the saddlebags, she listened to him stammer through the whole humiliating story and gnashed her teeth on his behalf. “Don’t listen to her,” she told him. “By that standard, the rabbits she likes to raise are her concubines.”)

His simmering anger made his next session with Jiwei flow more easily, almost as if the saber spirit empathized with his rage – or perhaps it was simply that she found it more familiar, more reminiscent of the temper of her true master, and therefore less objectionable. He was attempting to draw out some part of her anger through music and store it into a jade pendant: his theory was that the eventual qi deviations of the Nie sect leaders resulted from a lack of balance with the resentful energy utilized by the saber spirit – the negative emotions streaming in through the saber, strengthening it, but having no means of cleansing beyond outbursts of temper.

It had been the way Nie Mingjue spoke of his saber spirit as if she were his friend that had given him the idea. Many in the Nie sect treated their sabers with both reverence and fear, as if the spirits were vicious creatures they had only temporarily tamed and which would one day turn upon them, but Jiwei was passionately loyal to Lao Nie, and Baxia to Nie Mingjue. Perhaps it was his inheritance as a Lan showing, or merely his own experience with his brother, but Lan Qiren simply could not understand how anything that loved so unstintingly, so unreservedly, could ever bring themself to intentionally bring about their beloved one’s destruction.

Even a dog would refuse to bite a master it loved unless it had gone mad.

Therefore, he concluded, it was not merely the human wielder but the saber itself that deviated in their cultivation. Lao Nie had once said in an aside that it was unclear what came first, the Nie sect tempers or the saber spirit-incited outbursts, and although he had meant it as a joke, Lan Qiren thought there was some merit to the question. Rage served a valuable purpose for humans, acting as a warning sign that something was wrong, that something was unacceptable, rejection and protection all at once, but rage that could not be excised would turn rancid and sour, like a poisoned wound. Sabers were cultivated by their masters and resembled them – they were filled with human rage, intensified by their cultivation of resentful energy, but unlike a human they could not shout or hit something or vent in any way other than through hunting.

No wonder Jiwei was so content after a night-hunt; no wonder Nie sect cultivators got irritable when they hadn’t had time to cultivate their sabers or fight evil or just get out and do something. But with limited venting opportunities (humans could not fight evil all the time), the sabers would fall into obsession, infected by the very same resentful energy that they excised when they hunted – their bloodlust simultaneously sated and inflamed – and as their power grew, and their true opponents grew fewer, they would become insatiable and, eventually, unbalanced. Demonic cultivation was abhorred by the cultivation world because it opened the door to obsession and fixation, and the most common way that demonic cultivators died, if not executed by the world, was through a backlash of their own power. Obsession was by its nature rigid, and that was the sole weakness of the saber: they had to be rigid, but never too rigid, or else they would become brittle, would break.

Deviation.

It was a very interesting theory, even if Lao Nie’s eyes glazed over whenever Lan Qiren tried to explain. Lan Qiren didn’t take offense: Lao Nie had always been an exceptionally practical man, more interested in results than theories, actions rather than thoughts.

“Aren’t you disappointed?” Lan Qiren asked him at one point, abrupt as he always seemed to be about such things. “That I haven’t gotten anywhere?”

Lao Nie looked surprised. “What do you mean? You have a valid theory, you’ve tried all sorts of things.”

“I haven’t succeeded.”

Lao Nie laughed. “My friend, this is a problem that has stymied my sect for generations. Did you really think you’d be able to solve it in three weeks?”

Lan Qiren scowled. “It’s been closer to three years.”

“You’ve made progress,” Lao Nie said confidently. “A-Jue has as solid a foundation as I could hope for, and all those conversations you have with him about the nature of ethics and morality have had an excellent effect on his saber.”

“Has it?” Lan Qiren asked, skeptical. Even the Nie sect experts agreed that Baxia was unusually vicious for a saber, powerful enough to frighten wild yao simply with her presence – Nie Mingjue’s cultivation remained shockingly fast, and even Lan Qiren, who had only a few years understanding of the saber spirits, could recognize the effects of it.

“It has,” Lao Nie said firmly. “He doesn’t fear her, and she loves him all the more for it, backs him like none other; no other saber of his generation will so much as waver out of line with Baxia behind them. As for the rest…ah, Qiren, if you can figure out a way to stymie the saber spirit even a little – give him even another decade – I’ll be satisfied. Don’t worry about it.”

Lan Qiren huffed and returned to trying to transfer spiritual energy from Jiwei to the pendant.

“Besides, all this time spent on the project has had at least one good effect,” Lao Nie added, putting his hand on Lan Qiren’s shoulder as he played. “I get the pleasure of your company.”

Lan Qiren’s attention was fixed on his playing, but the hand was warm on his shoulder. “That hardly seems so much of a benefit,” he said absently.

“You underestimate yourself. Do you know, outside of my sect, I think you’re my best friend?”

Only years of training allowed Lan Qiren’s fingers to continue to move smoothly over the guqin strings when his heart seized in his chest, warm and hot and squished and painful and pleasurable at the same time.

He did not allow himself to ask “Really?” like a small child, insecure and uncertain, did not permit himself to say “even above my brother”, did not say anything at all.

“Thank you,” he finally said, stiff and wooden. “I…you as well.”

[spottedenchants]

(helping the self through another- recollected sorrows rest upon those who got out, who survived.)

(cw: vague references to Caleb’s backstory)

.

A forceful series of knocks reaches all the way to Caleb’s bedchamber and he is suddenly very awake, hazily pleasant dreams shattered.

.

This is strange, entirely abnormal.

Frightening, almost.

.

Without much thought, he rises and throws on a robe, passing through door and door to the final one.

.

He opens this third door, the one out to the rest of the tower, to find its only other current resident at his threshold, eye-to-eye.

The height is unsurprising given Essek’s favored locomotion.

.

.

But Caleb has never seen Essek like this.

.

A deeply haunted, half-present look in his red-rimmed eyes, his ears entirely away, followed by disheveled hair and rumpled clothing, an entire deconstruction of his usual well kept presentation. Arms crossed and clinging to his sides, clenched against the fabric there.

.

He’s shivering.

.

It’s concerning.

.

Concerning enough to call forth a faint echo of a cold, cold tower, a lingering memory of a warm, warm dorm room, and Caleb’s forearms itch at the involuntary recall, despite how weak he’s managed it to be.

But he keeps his hands away. Takes some breaths to stave off slight nausea.

This can’t be that. It’s not. This is different, Caleb knows. He knows.

.

.

But that look. And why is Essek shaking?

.

.

Caleb’s words escape as a hiss wrapped in worry.

“Essek, what is wr-?”

.

But dismay jolts his voice to a stop when Essek immediately glides even closer - very close - and raises a trembling hand to Caleb’s throat, wordless with shallow breaths, eyes narrowed, a slightly unfocused scowl pulling at his pretty lips and drawing his brows together.

.

Caleb dare not move in this moment, dare not swallow or breathe too deep, dare not react to this uncharacteristically bold motion because there is no hunger in Essek’s shining, panicked eyes, and atrophied habit carries no follow-up without it present.

.

.

Essek’s cold fingertips - is he actually cold or is this only further remembrance? - find that particularly vulnerable soft spot between jaw and neck and press gently, firmly, likely just enough to feel Caleb’s rapidly beating pulse.

.

Ah, that’s what this is.

.

Caleb dare not move, dare not scare Essek from this oddly executed assurance, this check he must be making with those intent eyes of now-dripping violet as they shift to bore into Caleb’s chest.

Right where Essek palpates cautious fingers against clothed scar tissue.

Right above the residence of Caleb’s hammering heart.

.

.

After an unbearably tense second or century, Essek’s face, his entire form, seems to crumple small as he lets out a shaky breath, hands tightening against Caleb’s robe, head bowed and tears now unseen.

.

.

Caleb dips his head, trying to catch Essek’s eyes.

“I’m alive.”

.

Essek looks away further, nods, and his breathing stutters into rough sniffles as he releases Caleb’s robe, voice watery.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Hands still raised and now directionless, Essek’s tensed fingers fidget with themselves, thumbnail sides pinched by fingertips, before swiping at his eyes, as if his teardrops are frivolous things to be plucked and crushed.

.

Caleb opens his arms, extending them to his sides and proffering a quiet warmth.

Essek trusts him to be here and this is different from so long ago.

.

This is not comfort for survival; it’s a conscious vulnerability on both their parts.

.

.

But Essek flinches at the motion, drifting back and away from Caleb’s embrace, away from this room they have spent time sharing, like they would catch and trap him, and he rights himself uncannily well despite the ways his face still leaks.

.

.

Disappointment, concern, and relief all burn together.

.

Essek does not need Caleb like that.

.

.

Even so, his muted, jarringly pleasant façade is askew; it doesn’t fit quite right anymore now that Essek has grown to encompass more than another vizard underneath. Caleb knows, can see hesitance slip through the cracks in the way Essek clenches his hands motionless.

.

Seeming to remember his magic, Essek clears his face and throat, mending the mask some.

“I’ll go. Thank you.”

.

Still, Essek stays of his own volition, untethered even to the ground.

.

.

This current bond between them is something very different from what Caleb had before, very different from what he and Essek had before; it’s something grown newer, blooming fresh of their own choosing, tended to on purpose.

This is alright.

.

So what can Caleb do but continue to pay forward a gesture of goodwill and good intent, born to soothe memory and fostered to mark safe opportunity, among other hopeful sentiments?

.

Slowly, slowly, as Essek watches with a level gaze, meeting his eyes all the while, Caleb takes a careful step out of the room.

Over the course of an eon, he raises a single hand to ghost fingertips over Essek’s cheek, to steady himself, to ensure Essek is willing to accept this smaller touch, and waits.

.

Though he does not flinch again through these snail-paced motions, does not back away from Caleb any farther, the mask slips as Essek seems to realize what Caleb is planning and he bows his head.

Squeezes his eyes shut and buries them under taut brows like he’s anticipating a swat.

.

This is nothing of the sort.

.

Caleb leans in and up, and presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s forehead before withdrawing both hand and face, volunteering no further touch.

.

He keeps the quiet, the closeness, but still asks, head dipped and voice soft, a murmur.

“Sit with me?”

.

No response, only the same grimace, the same clenched jaw. Tear trails reappear.

.

“I can show you how to count.”

.

Essek’s eyes open, violet deep as pre-dawn dusk and framed by dew-melt clung hoarfrost lashes, and they grow sharper, more focused.

“I know numbers fine.”

His eyebrows slant with what could even be read as defiance against presumed patronizing.

Good, good, welcome back.

.

Caleb crooks a gentle grin, feels the steep upturn of his brow line.

“But do you know my way?”

.

A tiny fleck of curiosity lightens Essek’s eyes, lifts his ears; it’s a shift imperceptible enough that Caleb would miss it had he not spent time deliberately learning the difference between its presence and absence.

.

So Caleb turns aside and pulls a cat-call cord, gesturing through the door to their well-familiar couch, before following his own guide. He takes the middle rather than his corner and pats Essek’s side of the seat, looking back to him, keeping his face open.

Essek follows and settles into his place, drifting down and pulling small, clearing his face again.

.

.

A moment more and then Gretchen, dutiful as ever, waltzes into the room with a chirp, making a point to rub against Essek’s idle hands as she jumps onto the couch on her way to Caleb.

.

“Hot cocoa, ice water, and some snacks, those little finger foods with fiddly bits that Jester brought last time, for my friend and I, ja?”

Gretchen purrs as Caleb scratches on either side of her jaw before she disengages, pesters Essek again to receive a few more disjointed pets, and pads away to fulfill the request.

.

.

.

As they wait, Caleb demonstrates how he counts for breath when difficult thoughts swarm and tension grabs his lungs tight.

.

Staying quiet, Essek breathes along, seeming to sink further into the couch with each exhale.

.

.

.

Cats come and go, filling the low table in front of the couch with drinks and nibbling tidbits.

Perhaps it would be best to keep such things handy and readily present, Caleb notes.

Just in case.

.

.

Without much deliberation, Essek claims a mug of cocoa, holding it between both hands, staring in as steam matches the jumbled swirls of his hair.

.

So he does want some warmth.

.

.

Having no specific appetite, Caleb only keeps watch on the fireplace, ready to follow along with whatever Essek decides next, even if that means Essek leaves entirely.

.

.

.

.

The hearth plays a crackling solo to the room.

.

.

.

.

Ice makes a single clink to glass.

.

“Verin taught me that, a long time ago.”

.

Caleb glances to Essek- he’s gripping his mug tight.

“Checking the pulse?”

“Mh... And I-”

.

Caleb waits, listens.

.

A sharp inhale.

“I apologize. For barging in and- doing that. I realize it was strange, unseemly, invasive. I couldn’t collect my thoughts well enough to say anything meaningful, but I should have kept boundaries in mind instead of falling to…”

Essek’s lips push flat as he releases his breath through his nose, an expression of consideration, Caleb decides.

“Buried… habit.”

.

Habit, hm.

.

Caleb absently runs a hand down his sleeved forearm before resting his hands together, held loose in his lap. Fingers to palm back, he kneads one thumb to the heel of the other, and looks back to the flames.

.

“Well, I’ll be prepared should it happen again.”

.

“Ah.”

.

.

Firelight catches in condensation, bejewelling the water pitcher with golden cabochons and veins of amber.

.

.

Caleb glances aside.

“Would you like to stay?”

Tired violet eyes turn to Caleb when he asks this, wide as the saucers on the low table.

.

.

Then Essek looks back to his untouched drink, nods reticent.

.

.

The ice in the pitcher catches Caleb’s ear when it shifts upon melting some from the fire’s warmth.

.

.

He tips his head to Essek.

“Would you like me to stay?”

.

.

Essek gives a wry huff to his cocoa.

“Would that be selfish?”

“I’d like to stay.”

.

A quick shift of violet to Caleb before Essek’s gaze returns to the mug.

“Then be my guest. Or- oh. I…. Ha.”

.

It could be a trick of the shifting firelight, could be Caleb’s sleepy eyes, but Essek’s expression seems to turn just a little tender, just a touch softer on the edges, as his voice lilts a murmur.

.

“I suppose I’m yours, hm?”

.

.

A gentle smile pulls at Caleb’s lips, and he watches as Essek traces the rim of his mug with a thumb, fingers and palms still held against its warming sides, the contents inside rippling slightly.

.

“Is there anything else you’d like? Anything to help?”

.

A glinting fang worries a lip. But no words.

.

“Show me?”

.

Essek looks up from his mug to Caleb, eyes flicking between Caleb’s, brows softly furrowed, but he neither says nor does anything further than the glance.

.

No matter what Essek could ask for, Caleb knows this is safe.

.

“I won’t run.”

.

.

A moment.

.

.

Caleb will give Essek all the time he needs to consider.

.

.

A moment more.

.

.

Then, careful and slow, not spilling a drop of his drink, Essek unfurls and abandons his corner in favor of tucking himself next to Caleb, going so far as to nestle his way under Caleb’s arm and press against his side, shoulder to hip, legs folded up and feet drawn under.

.

This close, Caleb can feel Essek’s tremors immediately lessen, can feel Essek’s chest expand and contract alongside his own.

.

Caleb can feel Essek’s fluttering heartbeat, rather in sync with his own.

.

.

They are both very alive, present together.

.

.

“This, if it’s alright?”

.

.

Caleb remains stationary, not wanting to spook Essek from this rare moment of outreach, looking into those too-careful, entreating eyes.

.

.

His heart feels fit to burst.

.

.

“Ja, this is alright.”

.

.

Essek blinks, nods, settles further into place and turns his eyes to the fire.

.

.

.

And so they sit, leaning side-by-side, breathing together, sweet steam warming the air around them, the fireplace casting its gentle warm light through crystalline ice water.

.

.

.

Essek’s eyes grow unfocused as he watches the flames.

Deep in thought, Caleb assumes.

.

.

.

Muscles held taut relax, slowly, slowly.

.

.

.

Eventually, Essek takes a sip of his drink.

.

.

Caleb, drowsy, comfortable, definitely does not stare when Essek reflexively licks the chocolate from his lips.

He definitely does not wonder how it would taste.

.

.

.

The water pitcher’s ice shifts again.

The hearth cracks in reply.

.

.

.

Caleb holds Essek close until he wants his space again.

.

.

Read I Lean In and Kiss Him [Right Here] on AO3

T, M/M, No Archive Warnings apply, Complete (5 Chapters, 10.9k)