#I’ve been bit slow with my readings lately cause there’s a few things going on so bear with me :’)

[peakyswritings]

SHARK this is amazing! And you used Heaven’s new face claim!

Omg I missed them so much😭

I saw that @justrainandcoffee created a whole trend with her awesome template so I decided to give it a try and post it as a reminder for myself 🤭

[mwahs-stuff]

haiii!!! I hope you day or night is going well!! But I was wondering if you can do maybe an actor!dazai with singer!reader and they have a fake relationship? 😋😋

(Off topic but I’ve been loving your posts!! They’re such a joy to read!!!)

I love this. yes, of course. and thank you, sm dear. I'm glad you enjoy my posts<3

cw: womanizer dazai, super fluffy (no smut, sorry if that's what you wanted, but I'm absolutely down for a part two). confusing plot tbh, idk what else!

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡☪"I don't like anyone better than you, it's true" ☪

dazai osamu. a name that can make fangirls eyes light up. he was known for his acting, how sly he was on and off camera and that stupid smile of his. you've been in the music game for a while now so you've met him here and there, you quickly realized he's an actor on and off screen so you made your mind up about him quickly. you didn't like him. so that's why you're pissed to hear that you'll be posing as a couple for a few weeks. another stupid publicity stunt pulled by your producer.

"you'll be meeting for coffee tomorrow." your producer spoke, making you roll your eyes and take another drag of your cig. "got it." you murmured. "this is serious (name). you both need to get to know each other. dazai's producer is a good friend of mine. he's too well known as a womanizer, and he needs to settle down for a bit. you both need to convincingly show that you know each other well. so get to know him! it'll be good for you too sweetheart" you huffed a bit and nodded. "okay, I got it. tell him not to be late." you spoke in an annoyed tone as your producer headed out.

the next day, you heard a knock on the door, and after a moment, your producer brought in no other than dazai osamu. "I figured you can have coffee at your place, more comfortable, ya know?" your producer spoke with no care as they headed off. .."I guess," you gritted out. great. not only will you have to talk to him. you have to make coffee, not a hard task, but it annoyed you. dazai didn't seem to mind this whole thing. In fact, he stood there with a smirk. you rolled your eyes. "cmon on in dazai." you spoke in annoyance as you led him to the kitchen. "call me osamu. we'll be dating after all." you rolled your eyes once again, something you seem to be doing more often cause of this. "fine, osamu." you said through gritted teeth as you sat on the counter and started to heat up some coffee. he stood on the side. your producer had given you a list of questions to memorize to get to know him. seems he got the same list because at the same time, you both asked, "what's your favorite color?" you scoffed slightly. "guess you got the same list.. alright, we'll have to look convincing, and this can't look like some hook up, so we'll say we've been dating for.. hmmm, let's say three weeks so far? I'll go to some events with you and you can come to some of my shows. coming up in october, I have a tour so we can stage a break up then. so there we go. you get a relationship so your fans don't think your a man-whore and I guess I get to say I have a boyfriend." you spoke quickly and sternly. you rolled your eyes at the last part. you weren't getting much out of this. dazai's eyes seemed to widen a bit at how simple you wanted to make this. "woah woah woah.. slow down." he walked closer to you till he was standing in front of you. "and what if I actually wanted to get to know you?" ..you were slight caught of guard.. you couldn't help but feel your face heat up. yea no snap out of it. he's just some womanizer and a fake all around. "not a chance."

it's been a few weeks since then. you've gotten used to going in public to get pictures of you guys together, going to his red carpet walks, him being at your shows, pretending to be all sweet in public.. you've honestly grown quite used to him. he actually wasn't as much of a fake as you thought. he could be quite genuine when he wanted to show it. this was one of those times. you were freaked out. dazai was in your backstage room as you smoked a cigarette and tapped your foot fast. it was a big show, a lot of people.. you'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't racing. dazai had stepped behind you as you looked out the balcony smoking the cigarette. you weren't showing all the signs you were nervous, but dazai could hear your foot tapping and the way you bit your bottom lip and how quickly you were blinking. he paid attention. as he stood behind you, he brought his hand to your hips. he snaked his other hand around you to take the cigarette out of your mouth. "this won't help with how you're feeling, you know that, right?" you rolled your eyes. "there's no cameras, so stop touching." you muttered, but you couldn't hide how your face heated up from the touch. instead of replying, he rubbed soft circles in your hip. you leaned into the touch unconsciously. "you're going to do great. you have to know that you're going to be great out there." he whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you were at a loss of words as his hands moved to your waist and rubbed softly. you felt yourself calm down a bit.. he held you like that for a few minutes, telling you how he knew you were going to do well. until you had to go onstage.

you did indeed do well.. after what felt like all night, you tiredly made your way back to your backstage room and laid down on the bed. after a few minutes, dazai came in and laid on the bed next to you. you turned to him. "...thank you." you whispered to him. "no need to thank me.. that was all you pretty girl.." you felt your face heat up once again. you didn't realize how close his face was to yours until he said that. you reached out and ran your fingers softly over his face. "you're a lot more than what I thought of you.." you whispered before planting a soft kiss on his lips.

(I rlly like this.. I kinda wanna do a part two.. should i?? also I suck!! so sorry if this plot doesn't make sense)

[canislupus-exe]

Made for Each Other | eddie munson

fandom | Stanger Things

character | Eddie Munson

reader | he/him/amab (she/her/afab ver.)

requested | anonymous

warnings | smut/nsfw, mutual perversion, peeping, mild degradation

word count | 1,804

keys | (Y/n) = Your name

summary | can u maybe do an eddie munson smut where the reader catches him masturbating to a polaroid of him and then the reader fucks him 👉👈

editor | @feliscatus-exe

>> back to prev <<

Keep reading

You sighed as you checked your watch, the time read 9:17. The day had been surprisingly slow so you decided to hang out with your best friend, but found his company had barely changed that fact. You’d burned through two movies with him and were going to start a third when he suddenly realized something and bolted out of the room. 

That was a few minutes ago and now you were waiting for his return, sprawled out on his bed. You yawned and laid your head against the pillow. Nothing happened until finally, you heard the bedroom door open. You lifted your torso and leaned on your elbows, raising your eyebrows at him. A bright flash caused you to blink rapidly and groan.

“Dude, what the hell?” You asked, sitting up fully and rubbing your eyes. You could hear Eddie laugh before feeling the bed shift as he sat next to you.

“Ain’t he a beaut?” He asks. You stop rubbing your eyes and look at what’s in his hand. It’s a Polaroid picture of yourself. Your shirt is slightly lifted and your pajama bottoms are slightly misplaced, revealing a small bit of your hip area. Your eyelids are slightly drooped, making you look sleepy and even somewhat sultry.

“When did you get a Polaroid?” You asked.

“I found it at the thrift store just outside of town. I seriously couldn’t believe my luck. It was a little busted right here, see, but nothing some duct tape couldn’t fix.” He raved, showing you all parts of the camera. You smiled fondly.

“That’s awesome Eddie.” You say, handing him the picture. He looks at it for a couple of seconds before looking back up at you.

“You don’t want to keep this?” He asks. You shake your head.

“Nah, what purpose do I have for a picture of myself?”

“Wouldn’t I have even less of a purpose for a picture of you?” He asks with a laugh. You shrug and smile.

“I don’t know. Use it to remember me or if you miss me.” You say with a snicker.

“That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” Eddie replied. You laughed before standing up from the bed.

“I should probably go home now Eddie. It’s getting late and we have school tomorrow.” You say, grabbing your car keys from his nightstand. 

“Already?” He asks a twinge of sadness in his voice. You smile.

“I’ll be back, probably sooner than you even realize. Thanks for letting me hang and keep you company though.” You said. He nodded and stood from the bed, walking you toward his front door.

You said bye and locked up his door, hopping in your car and starting it up. Your house wasn’t too far from the trailer park, which you were thankful for. It made your visits to his place that much more convenient. You whistled to the song on the radio, mindlessly tapping your steering wheel while focusing on the road.

As you pulled up to a crossroad to take a right turn, you realized how cold you were. You always kept your windows rolled down when you drove but it was much chillier than usual. You were about to turn when it dawned on you that you left your jacket at Eddie’s house. No wonder I’m freezing, you think to yourself as you pop a quick U-turn and backtrack to the trailer park.

It doesn’t take long since you didn’t get very far. In a matter of six minutes, you’re putting your car back in park in Eddie’s driveway. You toss your keys in your jean pocket, knocking on his door. There’s no answer, and you can’t help but assume he’d fallen asleep. Normally, you wouldn’t intrude, but the freezing Indiana temperatures urged you to use the spare key he’d gifted you years ago. Just for emergencies, he told you, and if you stayed out there any longer without a protective layer you’d freeze your dick off, which was as close to an emergency as you could damn near get.

You opened the door and shut it quietly behind you, not wanting to wake him up. You quickly scanned the living room, searching for your jacket. It was nowhere to be found but you didn’t fret, you probably just left it in Eddie’s room. You walked toward his bedroom door, seconds away from pushing it open when you heard a noise.

Not just any noise, though. A very distinct type of noise that caused your feet to stay planted on the floor and your stomach to meet them there. It was a moan. A moan that no doubt belonged to your best friend. Your heart began to thump louder than it ever has but you tried to drown it out, listening for another noise to prove you weren’t going crazy. 

And there it was again. A whiny, high-pitched moan that sent tingles down your spine and blood rushing to your crotch. You clasped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to regulate your breathing, scared you’d make a noise and alert him that you were here. Which you should’ve done, you knew that. You knew how wrong it was to listen to someone get off, but you couldn’t move your feet.

And to make matters worse, your eyes found themselves drawn to the crack in the door. You weren’t just listening now, you were full-on peeping on your best friend jacking off, and God was it making you hard.

The sliver in the door was small but if you angled yourself just right you could see enough. His right hand rapidly moved up and down his shaft while his left held a picture that looked almost familiar. Further up you could see his shirt lifted and his left hand holding a piece of clothing to his nose, which he was no doubt sniffing with fervor. The item of clothing was also familiar. It almost looked like…

“(Y/n)~” Eddie whined breathlessly, and the air around you seemed to turn cold. That couldn’t have possibly been…

“Fuck- (Y/n)…” He moaned again, and you were sure of it this time. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, moaning your name. That wasn’t the only thing he was doing. As he continued to furiously pump his shaft with his fist you realized why everything looked so familiar. He was holding the Polaroid he took of you earlier and sniffing your jacket. Eddie was masturbating to the thought of you.

“God p-please I need you~” He moaned, panting heavily. You got so warm in the face and so fuzzy in the brain that you acted without thinking. You pushed the bedroom door open and walked in, causing him to yelp and throw everything off of him. He scrambled to pull a blanket over himself to salvage a shred of his modesty but you’d already seen too much.

“Don’t stop on my account sweetheart. In fact, let me help you~” You say, popping the button of your jeans. His face turns bright red, staring at you in utter disbelief.

“(Y-Y/n) I can explain-“

“Explain what? That you were jacking off to a picture of me? Mmm, what did you imagine we were doing Eddie?” You asked, pulling the blanket off as you licked your lips. 

“I-I wasn’t-“

“Come on Eddie~ You can tell me. If you ask nicely, I might even do it to you~” You whisper in his ear, gently placing your hand around his already twitching cock. He gasps and whimpers, covering his mouth to stop the needy noises from spilling out.

“You were so loud before, what happened to ‘I need you’?” You asked, moving your hand up and down his shaft. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lowered his hands, babbling for a second as he presumably tried to find the right words.

“I was i-imagining you- ah- fucking me into the- hng- mattress.” He gasped out, balling his hands into the sheets. You smirked, pulling your hand away and watching him practically chase your touch.

“That can be arranged.” You reply, pulling your pants and boxers off all the way. He watched with wide eyes as your cock sprung out, standing at attention and making his mouth water. He watched you bend and spit on his hole, gasping at the sudden cold sensation. You rubbed it into his asshole, expertly spreading him out in seconds and causing him to turn to putty once again. 

Once you were finished prepping him, you positioned your cock head at his tight asshole, teasing by gently prodding it. He whined, staring at you with pleading eyes. You decided to take mercy on him and finally push yourself inside, groaning as he enveloped you. He bit his lip harshly and squeezed his eyes shut, overcome with the pleasure of being filled.

“Look at you, you filthy little pervert. Getting fucked by the guy you were jacking off to.” You practically growled at him, an irregular dominance clouding your mind. He moaned and covered his face, too embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“Maybe we’re made for each other though.” You say somewhat fondly as you pick up your pace. He moans, face still covered, but he manages to get out two words of inquiry.

“W-We are?” He asks meekly. You laugh almost sadistically as you grip his legs.

“We are… wanna know why?” You ask, slowing your hips just the slightest bit to grab his focus.

“Why?” He asks breathlessly.

“Because I’m a pervert too Eddie. I watched you jack off to me. I liked watching you jack off to me.” You say, giving him no time to process what you’ve said before starting to plow into him again. This practically sends him over the edge, whimpering and begging to cum as you fucked into his prostate like never before. He wraps his arms around your back and begins moaning frantically

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m- agghn!” He gasps for air and scratches down your back, body shaking as spurts of cum shoot from the head of his cock. The sounds he’s making and the tightness of his ass proves to be too much as your hips sputter and you let out a low groan, emptying your load straight into his suffocating hole.

You gasp in an attempt to regain your breath, Eddie still latched onto you like his life depends on it. You chuckle and let your body weight fall onto him, electing to clean yourselves up later. You do however decide to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek at the moment, and you’re glad you do when you see his flushed face fondly smile.

[under-lore]

Update on this blog

Hi !

So as you might have noticed, things on this blog have been quite slow for a few months now.

I’ve been asked a few questions about what was going on, or why have i not been posting even close to as many theories as before, etc...

So i’ve decided to try and answer all that as a sort of Q&A update to this blog.

Where have you been ?

I apologise for the lowered activity. My personal life lately has been causing me a lot of pretty bad problems, I’ve attempted 4 times within the last 3 months to pick this blog back up the way it used to be, but something would always come up at the wrong time and have me choose to delay it until that was fixed. Just last week, my personal computer broke down the very weekend i intended on doing so, and it is currently still in reparations so im writing this from a different device.

I do have several unfinished drafts and many things i want to talk and theorise about (i still haven’t posted a couple things that i’ve teased almost a year ago...), but i haven’t been able to find the opportunity to do so. I however have fairly good hopes that i might be able to get this blog back up and running within the next 2 weeks when my computer is fixed.

Hopefully, for real this time.

And again, i apologise about all this.

Whatever happened to the YouTube channel ? You posted one first video 6 months ago, and since then its been quiet...

The channel is not dead. I do intend on posting many more videos there in the somewhat near future. Some based on existing posts on this blog, and some more unique ones.

As a matter of fact, my computer gave up on me the day right after the day i told my friend and temporary editor that i wanted to start working on a second video... Tough luck...

It might be a bit early for me to say this, but once the blog gets picked back up, the YouTube channel should follow suit in the weeks that follow.

What have you been doing ?

Although the blog has been significantly slowed down for personal reasons, i have still made some progress on a few Undertale related projects of mine. While i have been generally staying quiet about those so far, i’ve decided to mention one of them today. After having been in this fandom for nearly 7 years and having seen literally hundreds of these from other people, it looks like it is now my turn to do so :

Im working on an AU

I will wait for a bit more progress before officially announcing it, but i am fairly impatient to be able to start talking about it !

What happened to asks ?

For a while even a bit before the blog lost its steam, i have been answering asks less often.

I used to always answer every single ask i got on this blog, but eventually as it grew bigger, there were too many of them for me to answer and it started to prevent me from posting theories as fast as i wanted to because otherwise i would get late on asks and have way too many in stock.

Eventually, i was overwhelmed by the number of asks i got and couldn’t keep up anymore. So i sort of took a break from the asks and now only occasionally respond to a couple.

I am actually not sure what to do about this situation. Because i do like answering questions i get, but i usually make pretty detailed answers which take time, and this blog lately has been quite short on time. I would be open to suggestions regarding how to handle this issue.

Thanks a lot for reading !

[jewwyfeesh]

Dessert Crisis 1

Writer: Mitsuki

Character(s): Aoba Tsumugi, Sakuma Ritsu

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

Ritsu: Though, Aoba Onii-chan’s so interesting – at first you kept going on about how you didn’t believe in the paranormal, but still screamed “AAAAH GHOST…!” Hahaha, it’s so fun to play the part.

Season: Spring Location: Yumenosaki Academy Library

Tsumugi: Erm… This is a history book, so it belongs on this shelf.

Let me see… There are still a few literature books left – I’ll put them on that other shelf over there in a bit. With that, I’ve finished organizing the library for today.

Sigh. There were so many books to put away… Without noticing, it’s already gotten so late.

Perhaps it’s because more and more students are here to read… and as such, the number of books that need to be put back have increased in kind.

Though… it could also be due to my low efficiency.

If it was really because of the first reason, I’ll be really happy. Anyways, I’d better finish organizing the books as soon as possible.

[There’s a rustling sound…]

Eh? What’s that sound?

I’m not hearing things, am I? There was definitely a sound earlier on…

Could it be a rat? If we have a rat problem, we need to take care of it quickly – it would be bad if the library’s books are damaged because of their nibbling…

The sound should’ve come from that side. Let me go take a look…

WOAH?! Did a person just run by just now?

The library isn’t haunted… right?

No no no… How could that be? Ghosts and monsters don’t exist.

Although there are books that record the various supernatural events across the world, I’ve always had a feeling that they’re just tall tales.

Even if it were true, it wouldn’t happen to me… right…?

Erm… Maybe I just saw wrongly earlier onbecause of my blurry vision… I even brought a protective amulet with me today, so I should be fine, nothing will happen…

Hm, it should be around here…

There doesn’t seem to be anything unusual going on, and there’s no traces of rats or anything… but there are some books on the table that have been left open.

It could be that some students forgot to put the books back on the shelf after reading.

???: Hee~ hee~

Tsumugi: W-who’s there! Come out, now!

???: Hee~ hee~ hee~

Tsumugi: D-don’t play games with me! G-ghosts aren’t real!

Ritsu: BOO!

Call for me, and I shall appear~

Tsumugi: G-GHOST!! DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!!!

Ritsu: Aoba Onii-chan, it’s me, Ritsu.

Hahaha, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I scared you, didn’t I? Come come, let me help you up.

Though, Aoba Onii-chan’s so interesting – at first you kept going on about how you didn’t believe in the paranormal, but still screamed “AAAAH GHOST…!” Hahaha, it’s so fun to play the part.

Oh, right, Aoba Onii-chan, you shouldn’t be too curious nor get too invested in the unknown – according to horror movies, those people are the first to die you know?

Tsumugi: Huuu… I was really scared because of you. I thought my heart was gonna stop!

Ritsu-kun, you shouldn’t play these kinds of games. It’s both scary and dangerous!

For example, if the person you frightened runs into something hard while trying to run away, they could get injured really easily.

Ritsu: Okay, okay, I gotcha. Though… Aoba Onii-chan, it’s already so late… Why haven’t you gone home yet?

Tsumugi: Ah, there are some books that still need to be sorted out before I leave.

Ritsu: Were you being a slow-poke? Maybe that’s why your work dragged on.

Tsumugi: Hahaha, perhaps. Though… Why are you still in the library?

Ritsu: I wanted to improve on the sweets I make. So, I’m reading up on dessert making as I have some new ideas that I’d like to try out here and there.

Tsumugi: Making sweets? It’s both intriguing and something to look forward to.

If the opportunity ever arises, I’d like to try them.

Ritsu: But of course~ Cause Aoba Onii-chan’s always taking care of me ♪

The next time I whip up a batch, I’ll give some of them to you.

Tsumugi: You have my advanced thanks, Ritsu-kun ♪

Ah, it’s already so late. Ritsu-kun, are you not heading back? After I’m done putting these away, I’ll be heading home. There’s still some things I need to do there.

Ritsu: In that case, Aoba Onii-chan, how about you head home first? I still want to hang around for a bit, so you can leave the rest to me.

Tsumugi: Is it really okay to hand this task over to you? It’s usually done by the Library Committee.

Ritsu: It’s okay, don’t worry ♪ Judging by your personality, merely packing books might waste too much time. Since you have some errands you need to run at home, you might as well go do that instead.

Tsumugi: Sorry for the trouble Ritsu-kun. I’ll head home first, but don’t stay out too late, okay? Else those at home will worry.

Ritsu: Mm, yeah yeah I got it ♪

Story Masterlist | Chapter 2 →

[galacticlamps]

Tag 9 ppl you want to get to know better

tagged by @observethewalrus​

First ship: I genuinely don’t know? And now that I’m realizing I don’t know I’m actually a tiny bit sad about that. I’d started writing things that can only be described as fanfiction long before I was old enough to be online and before we evolved past dial-up in my house & being on the computer became simple enough to not feel like a hassle anyway - which is all just to say that when I did wind up interacting with fannish communities later on, fanfic specifically wasn’t something totally new to me so I never had vivid memories of my first experiences of it. As a kid fanfic was what you basically had to do when you reached the end of any media you’d even somewhat enjoyed and the author rather rudely neglected to go on telling the story infinitely - so I think it must’ve been a while before shipping became a major thing on my radar, and it probably happened gradually. I do distinctly remember finding it a little ironic in high school that so much online/tumblr specific fandom was about shipping, and I was in multiple fandoms and had several ships, but I didn’t have any big passionate (or even non-canon & in need of defending) ships for my main fandom, which was always Doctor Who - though at the time, just nuwho. There, the only things I could be said to ship were pretty straightforward pairings like the Ponds, Doctor/River, Jack/Ianto, etc. - and I’m guessing whatever things I had that counted as ships before I got into fandom were similar to those, just a kind of passing approval of/investment in ships that were already well-established elements of their source material.

Three Ships: well Two/Jamie always (connected to the above tangent, I was involved in fandom for close to a decade before I came across them, but I’d never found cause to use the term otp before then), and at the moment the other ships taking up the next-most space in my brain are probably Ben/Polly and Geordi/Data

Last Song: Ruin by the Amazing Devil (I remember it playing as I drove home last night)

Last Movie: ah see I’m actually quite bad about watching movies/even remembering they exist. There’s a real possibility the most recent one was The Final Frontier, simply because I’ve been doing a long slow chronological trek through Star Trek, and I’m currently in the early 90s so I know I must have watched that one at some point in the last year or so, and more recently than any of the ones that came out before it

Currently Reading: Ok this I’m legitimately embarrassed about, because I’m not normally anywhere near this slow with books at all, and neither of these are bad, boring, or even slow-paced, it’s solely a matter of how horribly hectic & unpredictable my life’s been for the last few months - but I’ve been both near the end of Bare-Arsed Banditti and a couple hundred pages deep into The Two Towers since the end of August (I hate that fact so much but I need to admit it. It’s available information on my Storygraph account anyway it should not be so hard to say)

Currently Consuming: Twining’s Irish Breakfast tea, black. I am often consuming twining’s irish breakfast tea black

Currently Craving: a break - or maybe just routine in general? I’ve been doing a lot of overlapping freelance work lately: short-term projects that don’t last long enough to allow for anything like ‘time off’ & have all the busy-ness of full-time without any of the stability, which kinda feels like the worst of both worlds tbh. 2022 was a rough year for me for that in general, but it got especially bad in the fall & winter and I’m hoping to get a better handle on my own schedule in the next few weeks one way or another, but I’m sorry to anyone I’ve kinda ghosted in the interim

Tagging: @uighean​ @terryfphanatics​ @seismologically-silly​ and anybody else who wants to do it!

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (369): Tue 21st Mar 2023

Amanda Bynes has been placed in a mental health unit after she was discovered walking around her neighbourhood naked. The people who drove past her and saw her slowed their car down and called the police…eventually (You’d have to sleeve it a few minutes to take in the surreal sight of a naked Amanda Bynes wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t step in and stop it straight away. You’re only human). I knew that Amanda Bynes has been struggling in the last ten years or so but I always thought it was either alcohol or drug addiction I don’t know that she has quite severe mental health issues. You’d think that I would have read about it on Penelope Taynt’s website AmandaPlease.com. I was a big fan of The Amanda Show when I was a kid. Bynes had great comedic timing and had a very warm and energetic personality. I assumed that after the show ended that she would go on to a big film career ala Miley Cyrus but from what I’ve gathered Bynes has only done a handful of films and the last one was 13 years ago. From what I can tell Bynes has spent a lot of her time studying fashion and it was during this period that the substance abuse and mental health issues started up. Maybe her descent into addiction actually had nothing to do with her fame and instead was caused by the pressures of trying to balance her private life with her intense studying. University students go through a rigorous revision schedule and the stress of it often leads students to drugs in order to chase away the feeling of being overwhelmed.

I rang up the Roadwise motorcycle test company to see what the chances were of me getting lessons and a test booked in before the end of June when my theory test runs out. He said that in order to say for sure he’d need to take me out for a lesson to see how good or bad of a rider I am. I booked a lesson for tomorrow at 4. Hopefully the fact that I’ve been practicing for two years on a 125 will give me a bit of a boost and I won’t need too many lessons. I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to actually booking a test. To be fair though when I first enquired about tests it was just after lockdown and the Roadwise guys told me that they were backlogged nine months with requests for tests and said backlog has only just gone down to about a month. Still though there were many years before this where I could have started taking lessons instead of spending all my time on Amandaplease.com reading Penelope Taynt’s regular article “Things That Rhyme With Amanda”.

I went to the town to meet Dad so we could get out pounds changed over to dollars. Dad had Luna with him as he’d just taken her to the soft play and she was hyper as per usual. She insisted on getting a carry and I told her that she was getting to big to be carried and soon it would be her who had to carry me. She responded that she wouldn’t be able to carry me because I’m too fat. Man, you eat 7 pizzas in a day and suddenly people are putting labels on you. I got £1000 changed to $1200 at the currency exchange place. It doesn’t seem like much but I’ve already paid for WrestleMania and the LA Lakers game so I’ll just need money for food and whatever fun shit we decide we want to do when we’re there. One thing I want to do while I’m over there is fire a gun. Normally to fire a gun in America you have to go to a high school but there are actually places where you can go to fire them at non-living targets called shooting ranges. Being from the UK this might be one of my only chances to fire an actual gun. It will also be a good opportunity to take out all the frustration I’ve accumulated over the years. I can pretend that the targets are the South Shields bus drivers who routinely turned up 10-15 minutes late when I needed them for work before I got the bike. I’ll also put on a voice pretending that the bus drivers are begging for mercy going “Please don’t kill me. I’m sorry I’m always late. I’ll start being on time I swear” and then I’ll reply “Oh yeah. Well I’m going to show you how to do your job properly. I’m going to take you on a ride, I’m going to get you to your destination on time and the good news for you is that where you’re going…you won’t need a return ticket” and then blast it’s fucking face off.

This evening I watched the documentary miniseries We Need To Talk About Cosby. Obviously the guys name is mud nowadays but you couldn’t exactly go straight to talking about what a monster the guy was straight from episode one. In order to understand why his crimes were so particularly harrowing the audience needs to know what kind of person he fooled people into thinking he was. This guy was basically the American Jimmy Savile. He did shitloads of charity work in order to defuse suspicion whenever there were rumblings about his shady behaviour. The Savile comparisons don’t stop there as throughout his career he was basically leaving breadcrumbs and hiding in plain sight, giving people enough clues as to what kind of person he was but because he was so powerful and influential very few people ever acted on them. Cosby actually jokes about drugging a woman’s drink on an album from 1969. The fact that Cosby was joking about this but turned out he was actually doing it makes me think that maybe Ross Noble actually does piss on squirrels https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=c1nMqEHN3qg&t=68s . I can’t believe this guy is actually out on a technicality but hopefully this will somehow get overturned and the cunt will end up back behind bars sooner rather than later. The fact that Cosby’s career was brought crashing down thanks to a routine by Hannibal Burress has always intrigued me. The routine Burress did went viral and encouraged women who had been abused by Cosby to come forward. I’ve never understood why Cosby didn’t sue Burress. Maybe because the women came forward and accused Cosby of assault before he had a chance to suppress the revelation by taking legal action against Burress. The fact that Burress managed to evade prosecution by Cosby while at the same time kick-starting the backlash against him makes me flash forward to accusations made by Katherine Ryan against another comedian / predator of women who she refuses to name. She says the comedian in question has very good lawyers but surely not as good as the ones Bill Cosby could afford. If she just outright accused the guy then it might similarly encourage his victims to come forward and start a backlash against this presently unknown comic.

[sweatandwoe]

hello may i please have some coochie- I mean, can i get some silco BDSM smut and make it extra nasty, hold the ketchup and add an extra large pickle -xoxoChickenparm

You may have all the coochie @chickenparm mother of simps. Also I made sure to add the extra large pickle, and some extra large reading cause this thing is over 7.6K words (17 pages on a google doc). So enjoy and look at all these warnings, ahahahaha

Warnings: Silco x fem!reader, BDSM (the entire thing is about that), Silco being a bad dom one time, bondage, blindfolds, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, a bit of pussy licking, anal sex, anal fingering, degradation, aftercare

He had you propped up against a wall. Your hands were pushed in between both of your chests, the rope digging into your wrists. Your legs were hooked around his hips, as he thrusted into you, with long slow thrusts, one hand on your thigh and keeping it lifted.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” His voice was warm, close by. The blindfold pressed tightly to your face. “Does it feel good when I fuck you like this?”

You gave a small nod. And his other hand came down onto your face, a slight slap to your cheek. He held it there, rubbing away the shock from your skin, moving his thumb along your cheek to cup it in hand. His voice was like a growl. “Manners.”

“Yes, Sir.” You arched your neck, and he accepted the invitation. Mouth moving to leave a mark there. You gasped at the feel of his teeth, your hands struggling against their bonds. His thrusts deepened, pushing you harder against the wall.

And his fingers brushed over your blindfold, as his hand moved from your face.

–

The last month had been quiet. Your job hadn’t been eventful, the same old desk job you’d had for some time. Doing the manager work at the Mine, keeping files organised, doing payroll, sick leave, bonuses.

It was often enough that you were usually stressed to shit from it. But luckily, life had decided to cut you a break.

Your hand ran along your wrist. You had been doing this more often than not in the past month. There were no more burns from the rope that had been along your wrist, no bruises anymore. But the touch was a little comforting. Even if you hadn’t had anything tied around them in a month.

You heard a call of your name, and peered up. Mr. Delk was the yordle who had owned the mine for the past century. He smiled as he approached you. “Working late again?”

You gave a hum, and a nod. “Weekend’s coming up, and I’d rather not stay late on a friday.”

His brow furrowed. “I thought it was thursdays and tuesdays evenings you needed to be freed up?”

You felt a fresh shot of heat run to your face. “No, I decided to stop taking my lessons. I wasn’t enjoying it.”

“That’s disappointing to hear. But at least you’ve learned at least some skill. I should ask you to perform the piano for us later.” He smiled, always trying to see something good in a sad moment. You were quick to suggest that didn’t happen. And then he shifted his feet. “I’ve brokered a deal. We’ve finally made the sale.”

You blinked in surprise. Since you had started, Mr. Delk had been trying to see the mine. So far, he had no takers. You thought it was because he asked for too much, including the keeping of the same staff. At least for a few months.

“Congratulations, Mr. Delk.” You offered, smiling warmly. “I’d offer a drink, but I’m afraid I don’t keep any at my desk.”

He waved off your attempt at a joke. “I’ve already ordered a nice lunch for everyone tomorrow.” His feet shifted again. “I have to announce who it is, in case… people no longer wish to work here.”

“Chembaron?” Mr. Delk was wealthy but didn’t go into crime like most other people in Zaun. It was why many people had sought you to work for him.

He gave a nod, green eyes sad. “Yes. Silco.”

That made your entire body tense, your heart suddenly in your throat and you could feel it beating quickly. You almost snapped your pen from how hard you gripped it. He blinked at your reaction, his furry brow knitting together. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” You managed, taking a deep breath through your nose. “I… I can’t work under him, Mr. Delk.”

He frowned. “He’s offering a bonus for all managers who stay at least to train.”

You would need money if you were leaving your job. But it made your shoulders still tense. Your wrists burned at the familiar feeling. Of a red and blue eye staring at you, wide and in horror. You forced that thought away, and looked over at the yordle.“How long?”

��Two months.”

“When does he start?”

“He officially is the owner at the end of the week.” Two days.

You rubbed your fingers along your brow, to the bridge of your nose. Your head suddenly throbbing as you considered it. He probably wouldn’t be dealing with you. You’d just train whatever underling he picked, teach them how to do your job and get out of there.

“I’ll stay for two months.”

Mr. Delk was excited, and you listened half heartedly at his retirement plans. He escorted you out once your paperwork was done. And once you began to walk home, you ran a hand over your wrists.

The pain hadn’t been long. It had only lasted a few days. But every so often, usually if you thought of him, they’d begin to ache again. As though it was a physical reminder, to keep your thoughts away from any positive light.

The next day Mr. Delk informed the staff of the news. And to your surprise, only a

handful of people quit. Apparently Silco was one of the best of the Chembarons to work for. Which was more surprising, considering he was the leader of them. The unofficial king of Zaun.

And the day afterward, in the afternoon he had closed early. Instead calling for a somewhat party in the lower level, with a makeshift stage even created for it.

A farewell/congratulations event for Mr. Delk. You stayed towards the back of it, trying to stay just long enough until it would be acceptable to leave. The other managers and most of the employees seemed to be of a similar mind, from all the whispering you were hearing to each other.

Of course when it did come to that suitable time to leave, Mr.Delk had to make a speech. You didn’t mind it, smiling as he thanked everyone for years of service. He pointed out some individuals, and you were thankful you were not named. “And now, I think your new boss should say some words.”

You clapped along with everyone, trying to contain some of the dread you had as you looked to the stage.

He looked handsome with the light shining on him. And you hated that was the first thing you noted, but it was true. You had only seen him in the darkness of the room, red eye glowing as he gazed at you. He had looked handsome then too, but here it became more obvious. Far more noticeable than the few minutes you had seen his face.

When he gazed out into the crowd, you shrunk against the wall. And if his eyes found you, he did not show it. “Good evening, brothers and sisters of Zaun. I will be short, in that I hope this new found partnership,” his gaze flowed over the crowd once more. Starting from one side of the room and slowly moving across to the other. “brings forth wealth, security and even more freedom from topside.”

His gaze finally fell to your part of the room. And you watched as it suddenly paused, and your heart caught in your throat. Fuck.

His gaze continued across the hall. “And that we continue to gather peace amongst ourselves.” It was a bit of lame ending, as gestured to Mr. Delk again. Who was now tipsy enough to start making another speech.

And Silco came down off the stage, and started walking to your side of the room. Casual, talking to people as he passed by. All charm and villainy, as he either said a few words or glared someone down until they let him through.

The exit was on the other side of the room. And you started to make your own casual way towards it. With sweat beading on the back of your neck.

Your heart nearly exploded when you finally made it, and stepped outside. The cool air allowing you to catch your breath, you could feel your heart racing. It was enough to make you lightheaded. You briefly wondered if you would be able to make it two months, as you moved down the outside steps.

And then you heard your name. You froze. The tremble in your limbs coming back, as your heart seized in your chest.

A hand touched your elbow, brushing over before gently grabbing hold. Another hand was on your back. It was rubbing small circles, carefully and gingerly. Silco turned you to face him, pressing you into his chest as he led you down the stairs. Ducking you under them, so no one could see what you two were doing.

He held you until you calmed down, like he had once before during one of your sessions. Something had set you off and he had stopped all play, kissing and holding you until all the anxiety was gone and it was only his warmth that you could feel. Just talking with you and holding you until it was time to leave.

And he was doing something similar now. And it was such a mixture of comfort and yet, it hurt. It made you ache. It made your wrists burn.

When you stopped trembling, he pulled you away enough to look down at you. The hand on your elbow raised to wipe away the tears you hadn’t realized had started to flow down. He was frowning. “Was it me?”

And you had known him, gotten to know him after all these past few months. You had been sleeping with each other for so long, it was hard not to. Not when you’d talk after a session of rough sex. Holding each other, you hadn’t been able to see him. So you had known him through his voice and his touch.

And in his voice now you could hear it. I hurt you. My presence is hurting you.

“A little.” You admitted, voice soft. He did not stop wiping at your face. “Maybe a lot.” He turned his face, so only the mostly unmarred side was looking at you. You frowned. “It’s not your face.”

He turned fully forward to you again, his blue eye widened just a little. And then his hands moved to your shoulders, carefully touching you all the way down to your wrists. He rubbed at them, and you wanted to cry all over again. “How did you get them off?” I left you tied. I abandoned you.

“I had to grab one of the attendants.” His thumbs carefully ran over the underside of your wrists. “I had to call for them for ten minutes.”

When you looked up at him, he was frowning. “I shouldn’t have panicked.” He admitted, after a few moments. Then after a few more moments, he let go of your wrists. His voice was quiet as he gazed down at you.“I’ve missed you.” Come back. Please.

You had missed him too, but you drew your hands to yourself. His touch on your skin had soothed more than anything else had, and you didn’t want it to soothe. It shouldn’t have soothed. It should’ve hurt, it should’ve stung. “I… I don’t know if I can go back.”

“We don’t have to go back. You know who I am, and I know who you are.” He didn’t reach to touch you again. But you could see he wanted to. The slight twitch in his fingers as he spoke.

The truth was heavy, and it sat in your heart. It needed to come out, and you turned your gaze up to him. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

“Let me try to re-earn it.”

“Silco-”

He said your name back. Warm from his mouth, with a tiny hint of desperation. “Please.”

You swallowed, unable to draw your gaze away from him. You lowered your hands. “Why me? You could go back. You could get a new partner. You don’t have to do this.”

And he stared down at you, like it was the most inane question he’d ever heard. He took a moment, a deep breath coming through his nose. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his hands coming down to hold your own, gently enough you could easily pull them away. “I care about you.” The declaration was so simple, and yet you stared at him. The tiniest hint of pink was growing on his cheeks, and he scoffed at your expression. “We have been sleeping together for almost half a year.”

“Without knowing each other's names.” But you swallowed, and squeezed your hands around his own. “I care about you too.”

He leaned down, and if he kissed you, you’d lose any nerve you had been building. Even if you didn’t trust him, you weren’t sure if you even trusted yourself right now. Luckily he only pressed his forehead to yours, letting his nose brush against your own. It was still almost enough to make you break, to make you want to kiss him.

He pulled back after a moment. “Can I walk you home?”

You looked at him, staring for a moment. And then you swallowed. “Not yet.”

And he gave a nod, his throat bobbing. He did not push the boundary you had just set, and instead just walked you off the property.

-

He had your ankles locked into a spreader bar today.

Hands tied behind your back, while your cheek was pushed into the bed. You could feel his tongue on your cunt, working its way inside of you, while he kept both hands on your ass. You whimpered, unable to see but he would always offer you some insight. Tell you what he was going to do to you.

His mouth pulled away, and teeth scraped against the inside of your thigh. “Do you like that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Sir!”

You were rewarded with another lick, and then a squeeze of one of your ass cheeks. “Do you want more?” One hand pulled away, and you could hear the snap of buttons.

“Yes, please sir.” you couldn’t rock your hips back, forced to just stay spread and open. Just like how he liked it. And you could feel how much he liked it when his cock brushed against your opening. A loud moan falling from your lips.

“Good girl.” He spread your cheeks further, to watch no doubt, as he began to sink inside.

–

When you came in on Monday, he was sitting in Mr. Delk’s old office, legs crossed, feet propped onto the desk and smoking a cigar. He had a large pile of paperwork nearby, and he called your name when you began to set your things at your desk. He gestured for you to come close.

And you did so, trying not to let your face heat up as his gaze followed you so closely. “Are you still leaving?”

You had almost forgotten. So instead you made a small shrugging motion. “I’m not sure.”

He looked at the paperwork to his side. “You’ve kept things very well organised.”

“Did you go through my files?”

“Yes.”

Well at least he was being honest. You approached the desk, and he let you rummage your hands through the pile. He had kept it mostly in the same order, but a few things were out of place that you began to fix. “Why did you go through my files?”

“To see if I could offer you a better position.” You looked over at him, and he brought the cigar between his teeth. “I wasn’t going to offer you it today.”

“Do you need a new secretary or something?”

His lips twitched around his cigar. The vaguest hint of a smile. “That’s an idea.” He looked up towards the ceiling, blowing a ring of smoke. “I’ll set up a second desk in my office. You could take notes for my meetings.”

“Isn’t it cliche to have fucked your secretary?”

“It’s cliche to be fucking your secretary, darling.” Then he paused, glancing over at you. He shifted in his seat, before he spoke, drawing the cigar out of his mouth. “Can I still call you that?”

You thought for a moment, bringing your lower lip between your teeth for a moment. “Yes.” You finally said after a few minutes, giving him a small nod. “Sweetheart is fine too.”

He smiled then, just a small curl of his lips.

It took a few more minutes to organize everything, and it felt oddly calm in the silence. Comfortable even. Once you finished organizing your own folders, he gathered some more for you to do from other people.

“I do have to do some payroll.” You mentioned gently, when he handed you a second box.

“I’ll have Xiao do it. He’ll be the one running in this office once I’m gone.”

You didn’t feel any anger at Silco not offering you the position. He would’ve known from all your talks during aftercare, that you wouldn’t have wanted it. It would’ve added too much stress for not enough pay increase. “When are you leaving?”

“Two weeks. Then I’ll be back at the Drop, and I will have a lot of paperwork to do.” He had finished his cigar now, as he looked over some different files.

You gave a small nod. You weren’t too worried about him contacting you. You’d both been very good at setting up appointments during your stay at the club. You were pretty sure even with his busy schedule, he had only missed one of your appointments, and even then it was with hours of warning.

You also knew he wanted you to help him. To take the job. But you weren’t sure if even in two weeks you’d be ready for that.

“Who am I training to take over my job?”

“No one, there’s too many managers as there are. Mr. Delk was more kind than wise with his money.”

You gave a small hum. “So I could just leave?”

There was a pause then, and you glanced at him. He turned his head, blue eye uncertain and red eye glowing. But he did not lie, he gave a small nod. “You could.”

After a moment, you went back to looking over the old files. Organizing them alphabetically. “I won’t.”

–

He was fucking you from behind again. This time there was no spreader bar, and you were not tied at all. He instead held your wrists together in one hand, as he fucked himself into you deeply. Slowly. He wanted to make you beg for it, or he simply wanted to enjoy himself as he fucked into your cunt.

You sucked on the finger he had placed in front of your mouth, carefully not rocking your hips back yet. He’d spank you if you started to do that already, and you weren’t sure if you wanted that yet. When he drew out his finger with a pop, you whimpered.

He hushed you, giving you a slow roll of his hips, settling himself into you as deep as he could and keeping himself there. “I’ll fill you, don’t worry.” And then you felt the hand let go of your wrists. “Grip the sheets.” And you did, feeling the slight tremble in your arms as he moved his hand. Instead he spread one of your cheeks, and you felt the soft pressure of his finger at your ass.

“You want to be filled, slut?” And you gave an eager nod. The hand holding your ass cheek let go, instead giving it a smack before spreading you again.

“Yes, please! I want it.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck my ass. I want you to finger it while you fuck me. Please.”

He slid the finger along your hole, before he let it slip inside. Only after it was fully inside of you, he began to thrust his hips in time with his hand, you could feel the light spit on your back as he spoke, as he began to pound himself into you, your moans only spurring him on. “Going to fill you up completely. You’re my fucking whore.”

–

Two weeks passed easily. Silco rarely had you working at your desk, and you were quite certain everyone believed you were with him. And they weren’t quite wrong. You did care about him, and you had trusted him enough to let him start walking you home. Even if you sometimes spotted one of his goons outside guarding it now. Or spying on you.

He told you it wasn’t to spy, only for protection but it was easy for any guard to do both. You decided to not mention it again, it wasn’t like you were doing anything bad.

He offered you his arm after you had both gotten your coats on, and you began the small trek over to your apartment. He’d have to come back for his car. You walked in silence for a few moments, enjoying the soft way he held your arm.

“I want you to come to the Drop.” You turned to look up at him. His face was slightly fallen. “It’s your choice, but I want you to come.”

“Silco.”

He drew out your name, saying it slowly back. He frowned for a moment. Then he paused, while you were still a good few yards from your home. You squeezed gently at his arm.

“I’m going to miss seeing you everyday.” He turned his gaze to you, and you raised a hand, lifting it to his cheek. “I got spoiled with it.”

“You’ll still see me.” You assured him, letting your thumb pass over his cheek. And then after a moment, you snaked your other hand from his arm to cup the other side too. Gently running over the scars that laid there. A hand came up, to ensure your own stayed on his face.

You were surprised by the soft look. The almost tender expression. To your absolute surprise, he spoke something you didn’t expect to ever hear. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Silco the eye of Zaun. The Kingpin. The murderer. He never apologized. You had heard it in all the stories.

And something flipped in your stomach, but not badly, not like before. You felt a strong sense of warmth flood through yourself. You began to pull his face forward.

For a moment, he just blinked his blue eye at you, his brow starting to furrow. Then you started to lean in. And he was quick to learn, to lean in and meet your mouth. The kiss was soft, light at first. A gentle brush of mouths.

When you didn’t stop, pulling away for a moment before pressing a harder kiss to his mouth, it was like opening the floodgates. His hand dropped from your own, moving to wrap around your middle, the other moved to the back of your neck. Pressing you into him, and your own hands moved to wind around his neck.

When he slid his tongue against your own, you moaned, feeling the nice spread of warmth. He slid against your own, before drawing your tongue into his own mouth.

When you finally pulled away, there was a small connection of spit between your mouths, before it pulled away enough to break. He moved, tucking your head under his chin, and you could feel the slightly heavier breaths, the same ones you were having, against his chest.

You rested there for a few minutes. Just holding one another. When it finally came time to start moving again, you glanced over at him. His entire day had gotten brighter just from your kiss.

“Silco,” he turned, not pausing in his step this time. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the job.”

You would’ve missed him too much. But you could tell him that another day, as he moved to kiss you again.

–

“I wish you could see how well you’re taking me.”

You were in his lap. Your thighs and calves tied together, so you could barely move them. Relying on Silco to lift you up and down. Your breasts pressed into his chest, and you had your hands on his shoulders. He had been kind enough to let you touch him tonight, just not along his face.

“Taking me so perfectly.” He let you sit in his lap for a moment and you could feel his hand, tracing along your waist and moving down, until it went to your cunt. Your empty cunt. With only a small toy at your clit.

He turned it on, and laughed when you began to squirm. Then he lifted you again, sliding his cock slowly out of your ass, before bringing you back down on it.

“So fucking tight for me, sweetheart.” He raised your hips again, and your hands came up to latch around his shoulders. He hissed at the feeling of your nails, and thrusted up into you when he raised you this time. “Such a tight fucking slut. Just for me.”

“Just for you.” You assured, reminding him gently that he’d been the only man to take you there. How much you trusted him. And you were rewarded with a groan, the press of his mouth against your own.

And his thrusts pumping in and out of you, until you were crying out against his mouth.

–

You had been at the Drop now for two weeks. You easily wormed your way into the building, moving up the stairs. You glanced down at Chuck, setting up the bar. Sevika organizing the bouncers and other goons, explaining their jobs for tonight.

And your job was to deal with Silco. There were no meetings, unless some emergencies happened. But he was stressed out enough as it was. The past week had been awful, he had lost ten men in a deal gone wrong and now he was trying to discover which of the other chembarons had done it.

You didn’t knock as you entered, moving to close the door behind you quickly. Silco was at his desk, furiously smoking a cigar while he stood by his desk. Hands spread out as he gazed down at the map.

“It must’ve been a reaction to the mine deal. Idiots.” He laid a piece of paper over the map, and began to trace over it. Carefully working his pen against it.

Your desk had minimal paperwork, as you set your jacket over the back of your chair. Usually you’d ask him how his day was going, how he was doing, how he slept. But you were quite certain the answer to all three could be summarized with ‘not well’.

So you set to work, beginning your paperwork. Doing the payroll confirmations, so Silco could doll out the coins himself later. You ensured the bills were paid, water was cleared, and to also order some more cigars from the way he had been chain smoking them the past hour.

When he finally did sit, it was to dig through a drawer. You watched as he brought out the needle, and then you stood.

His gaze was sharp, but it softened a little as you approached. “You don’t have to do this all the time.”

“I want to do this.” You assured him, moving forward. He spread his legs so you could get in between them. His hands rose to your hips, simply so he’d have something to hold to. And you suppressed the shiver you almost had when he did press them.

You lined up the needle, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your freehand moving to his jaw to hold the angle correctly. You pulled your head away and pressed.

The needle went immediately, fast and quick. His head came rushing forward, the crown of it resting against your stomach. His teeth bared as he panted out, and after a moment, you raised the hand on his jaw to his hair. Gently tucking back the loose ones and running your fingers through it loosely.

His hands loosened on your hips, until he returned them to his armchair. You followed him when he tilted back, pressing some kisses across his cheekbones on both sides of his face. He accepted the affection, with only a mild look for tenderness. His face was still tight as he looked over at the map once more.

And when you pulled away, you could see it then. So much tension. So much stress. His shoulders were squared as though he were ready to fight. The man was going to chain smoke himself into an early grave at this rate.

And you were deeply thinking about one of the main ways he used to love to relieve some of that stress. And so after a few moment’s of thought, you decided to ask. “There’s no meetings tonight right?”

His brow furrowed, as he reached for another cigar. Glaring when you gave him a look, as he fitted it to his mouth. “No. Why?”

You could’ve sat there thinking about that question far too long. Especially with all the feelings that were bubbling in your stomach. So instead you decided to move between his legs once more. And sink down onto your knees.

The reaction was immediate. He just held the scar to his mouth, blue eye growing so wide it could’ve almost been comical. And then a few blinks, when you rested your hands on his thighs. “Darling?”

You could feel your face warm, and you had, well you had never looked him in the eye when you had to do this before. Yet you met his gaze. “Do you want me to help you ease some stress, sir?”

He swallowed. Mutely, oddly silent, he nodded. And you gently moved your hands forward. Gingerly unclasping the buttons, feeling a wave of eagerness when you saw his cock. You hadn’t seen it before, but you knew how big it was. You stroked him in hand, smiling as he began to grow hard in it.

You kept your eyes on his, and he didn’t seem to be able to look away. He had not even lit the cigar in his mouth. You moved to press a kiss to the tip, before you let your tongue circle it.

The noise he made was small. And he just continued to look at you. His hands moved to the armrests, gripping. You smiled a little, and met his gaze still as you moved your head forward, taking the head of him into your mouth.

You began to bob your head, not taking him as much as you knew you could. Mainly as it had been 2 months since you had done that and you wanted to work up to it. You kept your gaze up at him.

Beforehand when you’d do this, Silco would hold your head, say sweet and filthy things to you. Now as you gazed upon, he was just staring at you as you did it. His cheeks going horribly red. His hands dug into the armrests of his chair.

You pulled your mouth off of him, gazing up at him through your lashes as you pressed a kiss to the underside of his cock, before dragging your tongue along it.

The blue eye twitched.

“Sir,” you began, moving your hands to continue stroking them. “Can you stand up?”

He did, kicking at his chair back so he’d have more room. Your hand stroked over him gently as a reward, and his hands curled into fists. And after a moment, you took his hands in your own. Spreading out your fingers between his.

Silco looked ruined from the act, and you had to make sure to put holding his hands while you sucked him off onto your bucket list. But that wasn’t the end goal right now. The end goal was to help relieve him of tension.

So you drew his hands towards your face. Hovering your mouth over his length, as you placed one hand into your hair, and the other to cup your jaw. Then you rested your hands on his thighs, smiling as you gazed up at him through your lashes. “Do you want to fuck my mouth, sir?”

He swallowed. A nod. And so you moved your mouth over the tip, hollowing out your cheeks and relaxing your throat as best as you could.

The first thrust was small, careful. Worried about hurting you, and you continued to gaze up at him. Watching the red and blue eye, feeling his fingers twitch against your skin.

The next thrusts were deeper, not quite hitting your throat, but starting to move again. He finally spoke then too. “Such a fucking slut.” And then he began to move a lot faster, and you did your best to keep your gaze up on him, but you had to squeeze your eyes shut when he thrusted your mouth to the base of him.

He held you there until you could open your eyes. And he growled down at you when you looked up at him. “How can you look so fucking sweet, even when you’re sucking cock.” He pulled you back, fingers in your hair tight but not pulling. Just securing, keeping you steady in his grip. “A fucking perfect whore.”

You moaned around his cock, his words only stirring the flame in your belly. You didn’t move to touch yourself, and the second time he pulled you to the base, you felt tears beginning to leak from your eyes.

And he kept going. Fucking you until tears were running down your face. Letting his balls slap against your chin, as he kept going. Faster and faster. He looked ragged with each thrust, teeth bared, spit going down his chin, and hair dishevelled.

Finally he pulled back, removing the hand from your jaw. “Tongue out.” And you rolled it out, feeling him press the tip of his cock against it. “You’re going to swallow all that I give you. And you’re going to tell me thank you after you do.”

He jerked himself off, letting out a horrible groan before he shot his load onto your tongue. Some shooting off onto the edges of your mouth, a little on your cheeks. You waited until he was painting, moving back to let go of your hair. And then you raised a hand from his thigh, to swipe all of his cum into your mouth.

You swallowed, showing him your empty tongue afterwards. “Thank you, sir.”

He was on his knees next, pulling you against him. He kissed you, deeply and without a doubt he’d be able to taste himself. But he didn’t seem to care, as he hungrily went for your mouth.

“Was that too rough?” He asked when he pulled away, lips swollen, his voice surprisingly soft after everything. And his cheeks still carrying that slight red hue.

You smiled. “Perfectly rough.” Your voice was a little hoarse now, you realized with a bit of warmth to your cheeks.

He took a few minutes, holding you. Checking over your jaw, throat and hair. Pressing kisses along your face.

And when you did rise, he bent you over his desk, and fingered you until you cried his name.

–

You were against the wall. Silco was pressing so deeply into you, as he fucked you. Only your hands tied, as you locked your legs around him. Tonight, there was less play. He had needed to destress, and you were willing to help him.

His face was buried in your shoulder, kissing and nuzzling into it as he thrusted slowly into you. And your heart burned at the affection. You hadn’t seen this man’s face, didn’t know his name, but you knew you already cared about him.

you met the slow kiss back. Your bound hands tracing what you could with your fingers onto his chest.

His hand came up to your head, and at first you didn’t feel it. The way the soft fabric came off, as he brushed his hands along there. An action so full of affection, you could hardly believe it. If he had felt himself taking off the blindfold, you were sure he hadn’t known.

But your eyes open automatically when it was removed, blinking into the barely lit room. And you could see that one of his eyes was closed, as he pressed another kiss to your mouth. The black and red eye of Zaun stared down, not at your eyes while the other was closed.

Silco.

There was only a little panic in your heart, but he must’ve known something had gone wrong. Because he looked up.

And then he slipped out of you, backing away. You slid down to the floor, wincing as you hit it. Your breathing heavy as you watched the man who had been your lover for the past few months. Silco. The king of Zaun.

“Silco,” You tried to call gently, but he looked even more panicked at that. It took him a moment to gather his things, and you could see him. Naked and pale, with wiry muscle around his limbs. “Wait-”

He did not wait. Once he had his trousers back on, and slid on a dress shirt, the mask he wore out was set in place. And he quickly escaped from the room.

Leaving you alone. Naked and tied.

–

“Are you sure?”

You gave a small nod. Then began to strip yourself off. And Silco watched, gaze eager as each new bit of your body was exposed to him. He had seen it all before, but you supposed it had been a while.

Once you were nude, you moved onto his bed. He had remained fully clothed at your request. And he held the small ball of rope in his hands. You held out your arms, pressing your wrists together.

He leaned down, and pressed his lips along your wrists before he grasped hold of them. “So perfect.” He whispered so softly, you weren’t even sure if you were meant to hear that. Still he gently drew the ropes around your arms. The ones he had bought were much softer than the ones at the club.

Carefully he tied the ropes along your wrists, wrapping them tightly together. “Too much?” he pressed a kiss against your arm. You wiggled your fingers against the bonds.

“No, good.” Not cutting off any circulation, but Silco still checked for any signs of that happening. Then he tied them off, and grabbed a second piece of rope. Looping it around your chest once, and then around your waist, before looping it over your shoulders.

You could feel the bottom rope pressing into your tits, making them push up a little. And once he ensured the rope was not too tight, he moved back to admire his work.

“Beautiful.”

Your face grew warm. And he moved, pressing you further back into the bed. His mouth was on your own, a few kisses shared, before he moved it to your neck. And you gasped at the feel of his teeth. “My beautiful darling.” He remarked, before moving to the other side of your neck, sucking a dark mark into your skin this time.

“Sir.” You whined, already feeling the small struggle around your bonds. Your neck rolled, as he toyed with the rope at your shoulder. “Silco.”

A hand slid up along your leg, moving along to your inner thigh, and pressing until you were spreading your legs apart. “How long do you think it’ll take before you beg for my cock?” You gave a small pleased noise, as his fingers rubbed along your cunt. Then his free hand came onto your face, not quite a slap, but it warmed your skin still. “How long, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, sir-” Your hips rolled against his hand, and he didn’t even seem to mind, moving to curl a finger into you. You gasped. “Soon.”

You watch as he laughed, the way his forehead wrinkled and his eye showed the smile. And you did not look away, even when he leaned forward to kiss your mouth again, shoving a second finger in to join the first. Curling them against your g-spot, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the wet noise of your cunt.

When he added a third finger to your folds, you whined. He pulled his mouth away, panting as he gazed down at you. And he did not look away. Suddenly you were met with probably how he had felt when you had let him fuck your face a few days ago.

“Silco.” You gasped, shutting your eyes as he began to curl all three fingers against that spot inside of you, knuckle deep in you as he focused on that spot.

“Open your eyes.” You did, and he was still gazing down at you. His breath coming out in pants. “I want you to look at me. I want to see you when you break.”

You whined his name next, but kept your eyes open. His face watching your own, carefully, and after a minute he added a few swipes of his thumb onto your clit. Your back arched into it, grinding your hips against his hand, and you did your best to meet his gaze, until your orgasm was on you and you could barely open your eyes.

His fingers worked you through it, only leaving once you were sated, feeling the wetness grow on the bed. He raised his hand up, and you watched as he sucked each of the three fingers clean. He then moved himself closer between your legs.

“I think next time I tie you up, I’ll see how many times you cum with my tongue on your clit.” He rocked his hips against your own, and you panted, feeling how his cock was hard underneath the trousers, as it nudged against your pussy. “Would you like that, slut?”

“Yes.” You cried, back arching. “Yes, sir. Please.”

He reached a hand down to undo the buttons on his pants. And you could see him drawing out his cock, moving it forward. He left it at your entrance, and instead his hands found your thighs. His voice became a growl, as he moved, pushing your thighs back, so your knees were pressing into your chest. “I’m going to ruin you. I’m going to fill you with my cum, and later, I’ll fuck your ass and fill it too.”

You whimpered, but you had already known that was going to happen. You had planned out this play with him yesterday.

When he rocked his hips inside of you, you moaned. His face came down, hovering above your own as he bottomed out in one smooth thrust. He cursed, gritting his teeth. His hands pressed into your thighs hard enough that you were sure there would be bruises.

And then he pulled back, until the tip was left in you, before he thrusted fully back inside of you. And it was almost painful, how hard he began to fuck you. You let out a cry, as he began a brutal pace.

There was little you could do, but take what he gave you. Your hands clenched around nothing, as you tried to move. You managed to lean forward, growing closer to his mouth with your own. And he slid his tongue into your mouth before he let you kiss him. And even then it was only for a few moments before he ripped his mouth away.

“Such a filthy, fucking, whore.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his hips, slamming them against your thighs. And you were damn near ready to scream, as he kept going after that.

“Going to fucking fill you.” He hissed, moving to nip at your jaw. “Been waiting for this for months.”

He angled his hips slightly differently, and you did scream this time. His name tumbling off your lips as his cock rubbed right against that spot. Your neck arched, and he kept going. Rubbing his cock right against that spot, like he was looking for it with every thrust. And you were still sensitive from his fingers finding that spot.

“That’s it! Cum on my cock, sweetheart.” He gripped his hands harder on your thighs, pressing them down. “Let everyone hear that you're mine.”

It took two more thrusts, and you cried out his name. Thighs trembling against his hands, and your eyes staring at him blearily, as you saw stars.

He was right behind you, a few more thrusts and he pressed himself as deep as he could, a loud groan falling from his mouth. And after a moment, he ran his hands carefully up along your thighs, trying to soothe where he had dug his hands in.

He pulled out, and you could feel his seed leaking out of you. You watched, body covered in sweat as he reached into the nightstand, and pulled out a knife. He cut carefully away at the rope, kissing the skin that was exposed. Then he carefully placed it back, and moved to kiss you. Much more tenderly this time.

He rolled you away from the mess on the bed, and grabbed a piece of cloth off the floor to clean you both off with. Then he simply held you, gathering you in his arms. Kissing softly at your face and neck. “How was that?”

“Good.” You managed to say, pressing a kiss back to his cheek. “Maybe a lot better than good.”

He hummed, smiling. “I would say it was perfect.” He ran a hand over your cheek, before he cupped it. “I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go now.”

You smiled, tender as you leaned into his touch. “Good. Because you’re mine.” He smiled at that. “And I’m yours.” You kissed once more, before you ran a hand down his chest. Gazing up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you still need a few hours?”

You grinned at his expression.

[e-dubbc11]

Dance with Me

Pairing:  Matt Murdock X GN! Reader

Warnings:  None really….I don’t think.  Reader has a bit of anxiety.  There are a few tears but just Matt being sweet as can be and comforting.

Word Count: 1554-ish

Summary:  Reader decides to cook dinner for Matt and it doesn’t go exactly how they planned.  What may not be a big deal to others, is a big deal for them and Matt understands this so he does what he can to comfort you and make you feel better about….everything.

A/N:  Well, when I started this one I had a different song in mind to use for inspiration, “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran BUT as I was writing it and the further I got into it, I realized that while “Perfect” is a great song, I wasn’t feeling it, I thought this whole idea was stupid and I almost scrapped the whole thing because it wasn’t coming together like I wanted.  So I decided to use “Everything (Live In-Studio Version)” by Lifehouse.  It completely changed for me after I decided to use that song.  

And if I may digress for a minute, I’ve seen Lifehouse a handful of times live and in all the times I’ve seen them, they never played this song live. I think it was one of the last times I saw them, their encore song was “Everything” and can I tell you how excited I was, it is my favorite song by them.  Then came the part of the song where the tempo starts to pick up, it’s probably the bridge of the song and I just started to cry, not full on ugly girl crying, but crying.  That song is just IT for me, it hits me deep and I love it so much.  I was just so happy they finally played my favorite song live, while I was there to see it. I don’t think I’ve ever told that story before, not even my friends I was with at the show know about it.  So if you’ve never heard it or need a refresher, give it a listen and my full playlist of slow dance songs for Matt should be up soon.  I hope you like it and this.  Jeez Louise, talk about rambling…shut it, Ericca!!  As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments are always welcome.

It was just a Tuesday, not a special occasion, not his birthday, just Tuesday.  You thought cooking dinner for Matt sounded like a nice thing to do, as he had been working very hard lately and you thought this would be a nice surprise.  However, you were not known for your culinary skills, baking was a different story, that came easy to you but you felt you weren’t the best cook.  Mostly it was because you were a perfectionist and everything had to be just so or you were not going to be happy.  You had planned it all out though, everything from the wine down to the dessert, what could go wrong?  It turns out plenty could go wrong, and it did. 

It was a bunch of little things that would definitely not be a big deal to most people, but you weren’t most people. The plan was to leave work early, however the paperwork on your desk needed to be finished so you were late leaving, and also the grocery store you usually go to didn’t have everything you needed so you had to go to a few places which ate up more time.  

Tomato sauce from scratch also takes more time than you thought it would, which leads you to rush and that caused you to slice open your knuckles on the cheese grater.  The chicken sausage you wanted, the store ran out of so you had to get regular.  It’s not necessarily a bad thing but again, you didn’t plan for that so it elevated your stress levels. That’s just how your brain worked, it’s difficult to get out of your own head sometimes and you wanted everything to be….perfect.  

The dish you were making was simple enough but very tasty, crumbled sweet Italian sausage, in a light tomato cream sauce over spaghetti with a Caesar side salad and garlic bread. Checking your watch, you realized Matt would be home soon, however the sauce still needed more time to simmer.

Even the fruit tart you had planned to make, again it should have been easy for you, but the crust was baked you thought, just a little too long.   And you forgot that it takes 2-3 hours for the pastry cream to chill, you didn’t have that kind of time or a blast chiller!  This is a disaster, nothing is ready, and you start to panic.  

You weren’t happy about it but you start thinking about abandoning the idea of dessert because it wasn’t going to be ready in time. This was very frustrating because you had the fruit cut up and in the fridge already, even the pineapple was cut into little stars.  The picture you had of it in your head was so pretty but than plan went right out the window when you saw what time it was.

It was 6:15, you knew Matt would be home in give or take fifteen minutes.  Aside from tart, you sucked it up and pulled the rest of it together when you hear the keys in the door.  Matt opens the door, puts all his things away and says “Something smells good in here.  Are you alright, sweetheart, I can smell blood too…did you cut yourself?”

Damn that man and his bloodhound nose!  You had forgotten about the cuts on your knuckles, it’s such a stupid injury and you felt like a complete idiot for letting that happen but you tried to control your anxiety anyway as you answered him.

“Um, yeah I got a couple of cuts on my knuckles, no big deal.  How was your day today?”

Matt came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist, and kissed that sweet spot on the side of your neck.  His response was, “Well I missed you, so it was terrible.”

“Oh really?” You tried to sound like you weren’t in panic mode.

Of course he could tell something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, my love? Your pulse is all over the place.”  

Obviously, you knew you couldn’t lie to him, he would know so you threw up your hands in frustration, turned around to face him, and just told him everything.

“Matty, I wanted to do something nice for you so I planned it all out, I was going to leave work early and get back here in plenty of time to make a nice dinner for you.”

The look on his face was soft and he looked so touched that you would do something like this for him.

 “But I got held up at work, the grocery store didn’t have everything I needed so I had to go to a couple other places to find everything, and the dessert I wanted to make you, I forgot that the pastry cream needs 3 hours to chill in the fridge before I could put everything together…”

Your voice started to crack because all that anxiety came back.

“And I just—“ You took a minute to breathe.  When you regained your composure, you let out a big exhale and asked him “Do you want a glass of wine because I sure do.”  You started to smile only to realize in the middle of running around all afternoon, you forgot to pick up the wine at the package store.  That was the last straw, you burst into tears, and slumped over the counter with your head in your hands.  “Oh no!  I forgot to get the wine!!!!”  Matt knew how important getting this all right was to you, he loosened his tie a little and rolled up his sleeves.

“Oh angel, please don’t cry.  This is all so nice, you doing all this for me.  It smells delicious and I’m sure it’s going to taste even better.  Plus we have beer and whiskey, I don’t need fancy wine…you know that.”

He turned you around gently to face him and brushed the tears away with his thumbs.

“Look, I know it’s not exactly how you wanted everything to turn out but do you understand how incredible you are for doing this?  Before you, no one has even attempted to cook dinner all for me.”  

He could tell you needed more convincing and with his signature smirk, you could see Matt had an idea.

“Here…take this apron off and just stand right here for a second, don’t move.”

As you brush the tears from your cheeks, he walks to the bedroom and comes back holding your Bluetooth speaker, places it on the counter and disappears to the bedroom one more time.  You’re standing there confused when you hear music start to play and recognize the song…”Everything” by Lifehouse.  

You are the strength, That keeps me walking. You are the hope, That keeps me trusting. You are the light, To my soul. You are my purpose, You're everything.

He didn’t want you to hear him when he spoke into the phone to play the song, so that’s why he went back to the bedroom. Matt knows music hits you differently than some people, you feel it in your soul and at times have emotional reactions to it.  He had a strong feeling this song would help you calm down…

He came back to the kitchen, and with his hand outstretched he asked:

“Dance with me?”  

Your reaction was genuine surprise “What? Dance with you? Now?”

“C’mere…it will help you relax.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you gently placed your hand in his and rested your head on his chest as you two swayed back and forth to the music.  Why does he always know what to do to make you feel better?  The chorus comes on…  

How can I stand here with you, And not be moved by you? Would you tell me, How could it be, Any better than this?

As the two of you continued to slow dance in the kitchen, he said:

“My love, tonight may not have been to your standards but believe me, I couldn’t have asked for anything more thoughtful.”

You were feeling a little better but still disappointed in yourself.

“Matty, my planning was all off and I just wanted it to be really nice for you.”

“It is, sweetheart…it is.  Put your hand on my heart.”

You lay your palm flat against Matt’s chest.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, all of this is absolutely wonderful…YOU are wonderful. I couldn’t love anything more.”

Of course his heartbeat never faltered, he’d never lie to you.  The song continues…

You're all I want, You're all I need, You're everything, everything.

“And listen, I know you have everything prepared for the fruit tart because I can smell all of it so tomorrow, I’ll help you put it together and we can have it then.  How’s that sound?”

You had tears in your eyes but they were because no other man had gone to the lengths that Matt did to help you deal with your anxiety.  You knew he couldn’t fix everything but it doesn’t mean he didn’t try and that’s just one of the reasons why you loved him so much. He tilted your chin up and pressed his lips softly to yours.

And how can I stand here with you, And not be moved by you Would you tell me, How could it be, Any better than this?

Would you tell me, How could it be, Any better than this...

You’re everything…

As the end of the song plays, with your hand still on his heart, you say “Matty, that sounds…perfect.”

Tag list: @freshabogados @skvatnavle @phoebe-danvers @moonlarking @shedaresthedevil @mindidjarin @matt-erialgirl @nelson-et-murdock @elgrandeavocados

Others that might enjoy: @1800-fight-me @sobachka-korol @mattmurdockspainkink @saintmurd0ck @wint3r-h3art

Please please tell me if you’d like to be added or removed from either list

[merakiui]

Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Childe Finding out That You’re Being Abused HCs

cw: mentions/descriptions of (physical and emotional) abuse, injuries, depressive mood/thoughts, implied violence **please proceed with caution and do not read if this is triggering! note - submissions are confusing for me, so I wrote it in this format. I hope that was okay! 

@tuestika said: Hi! Sorry that I send my request through submission, tumblr has sometimes eaten my asks either wholly or have omnomned whole ask xD Usually my requests sent through submissions arrive intact so…. I saw that you had done Scaramouche reacting finding out their s/o is being abused headcanons, may I request headcanons for Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao and Childe finding out their their s/o is being abused? Keep up good job! <3

🔥 Diluc 🔥

Diluc might not be the most vocal person in the world, but he’s definitely observant. He’s gotten rather skilled at picking apart your social cues because he’s spent a lot of time with you. 

So when you barge into his tavern one evening, looking absolutely disheveled and asking for one of the Knights, he’s feeling two emotions: confusion and irritation. 

For one, you shouldn’t even entrust your issue to those inadequate Knights. Nevertheless, you are his friend and he isn’t going to kick you out just because you mentioned them. 

He waves you over to the bar and is thoroughly shocked when you beg him to let you hide behind it. Then he notices your split lip and the fresh injuries on your face and forearms, and he wastes no time in getting to the point.

“Why were you out so late fighting hilichurls? I hope you haven’t led any here. We don’t need that sort of trouble right now.”

“Sorry. No, that’s not it. I just—you’re the only one...” You’re struggling to piece a coherent statement together, too busy looking over your shoulder to keep track of your thoughts. “I didn’t know where I could go. I mean, I thought of you and—“

“Please slow down. Start at the beginning.”

More concerned over your safety than professionalism, Diluc allows you to slip behind the bar counter, where you cower on the ground to avoid being seen. 

You gesture for him to come down to your height and he sighs, silently complying when he finds there aren’t any new customers to serve. Bending down to your level, he holds onto the countertop to keep his balance and then he locks eyes with you. 

“What exactly happened?”

You inhale a shuddering breath, wrapping your sore arms around yourself for comfort. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you recall the event. Your abuser had found you after you’d left to get some fresh air, they’d cornered you in a secluded alley, and—you can’t finish the rest of the story.

Diluc doesn’t expect you to continue. He nods as he lets the information sink in, already harboring a deep resentment for this despicable individual. 

“Wait here. I’ll close the tavern early. In the meantime, we should see to your injuries and then we’ll look for that person.”

“I really think we should tell the Knights...” you mumble, knowing he’ll disapprove. “They’re more suited to these types of cases.”

“The Knights are incompetent. The investigation will take days, if not weeks. What happens if your abuser knows they’ll be coming for them? They’ll try to escape and then there’ll be no telling where they’ve gone.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to—“

“I’ll take care of it.”

You try to object because it’s dangerous and you don’t want him to get injured on your behalf. But he’s insistent in his decision, claiming that if the Knights can’t help you no one can. And you really wouldn’t feel safe if your abuser was still roaming free, so you have no other choice but to allow him to carry out the investigation himself.

And Diluc can be quite clever at times. It won’t be hard to traverse the interior of Mondstadt at night, where his identity melts away into that of the sneaky Darknight Hero. 

He’s going to protect you no matter what. Your abuser won’t receive an ounce of sympathy from Diluc. All he feels is cold hatred when he catches them. Someone as precious as you does not deserve to be put through such torment, and he’ll see to it that your abuser pays a hefty price to make up for all of the damage they’ve caused.

🧊 Kaeya 🧊

Kaeya can’t understand why you’ve started isolating yourself from everyone. In the past, you were always such great friends with the Knights, always catching up to talk to one of them.

He’d spent a lot of time with you and has since gotten to know you through lighthearted conversations and gossip from the people of Mondstadt. 

For someone so appreciated and well-known, he can’t wrap his head around why you might want to suddenly disappear, hiding yourself away as if you didn’t exist. 

And then he happens to catch you in town one day while you’re out running some errands. It’s so like him to pop in with a few flirty lines, but the words stick in his throat when he notices the bandages stuck to your arms and legs. 

“That can’t be good,” he says as he approaches you, leaning ever so gracefully against a wooden support beam. “Why don’t we find Barbara? I’m sure she’ll have you patched up in no time, my dear friend.”

You don’t think you’re worth it so you shake your head, nervously hoping he’ll take the hint and go away. 

“I hope you’re not accepting those dangerous commissions again,” he adds, half teasing and half serious. You can’t tell whether he’s trying to sound chiding or not. 

“Please just...leave me be. I’m a little busy right now.” You try to leave the stall you’re at, walking stiffly to avoid limping in front of him. “I’m not feeling well, so if you’ll excuse me—“

Kaeya pushes off from the beam, standing in front of you with a posture that appears immovable. “By order of the Calvary Captain,” he’s saying, a playful glint in his eyes, “you aren’t allowed to move from that spot until you tell me what’s bothering you and why you’re covered head to toe in bandages.”

You can easily object to such an order, but you figure it’s better to answer instead of arguing over your physical condition. So you explain a modified version of the story, telling him that you simply got into a disagreement and it ended in bruises on both sides. 

Kaeya hears the tremble in your voice when you say it; you’re lying. His expression softens at once and he steps away, indicating that you’re free to leave. But you don’t; you’re looking at him with such a helpless, pleading look. It breaks his heart.

You break before him, lips quivering as you beg for his help. You’re so scared and alone, and you’re not sure how long you can suffer through this before it seriously hurts you. 

“This is the first time I’ve gotten out in weeks.” So that explains your sudden isolation. “Please... I don’t want to go back home anymore. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let them hurt me again.”

Kaeya’s absolutely stunned to hear the silent revelation in your words. You’re awkwardly reaching to undo one of the bandage wrappings to prove your point, but he stops you short. That’s all the proof he needs.

You’ll be brought back to the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters to be tended to while he gathers a team to search for your abuser. Since you gave him a solid description, it shouldn’t be too hard to find them. 

And once they’re apprehended, Kaeya will subject them to a grueling interrogation. There will be no gentle punishment; it’s going to be as unforgiving as the abuse you had to suffer through. 

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You’ve never really been keen on physical touch and Xiao understands that completely. He usually avoids any sort of interaction to begin with, unless it’s absolutely necessary, so it’s not a surprise whenever you shy away from large crowds.

He has grown rather fond of you, which has lead to the two of you meeting at Wangshu Inn for some Almond Tofu and relaxed chit-chat.

During one of your many conversations, you bring up a few alarming statements. They’re just personal points you’d like to change, such as your weak fighting spirit or the way your joints brokenly click when you stretch. 

Xiao wonders why you’d want to change yourself. You’re not usually this doubtful of yourself. In the past, you would always play the role of his smiling friend, putting on a positive face even when he was in a disagreeable mood. 

Xiao is examining your movements as you awkwardly explain yourself and when your arms move he catches the sight of a rope burn etched into your wrist. 

“What happened?” He gestures to your sleeve, to which you react in a nervous manner, shyly pulling your sleeve down to hide it. Xiao frowns a bit. “Did you get into an accident?”

“No, of course not! I’m fine. It’s just a result of my clumsiness.”

It really doesn’t look like that to Xiao and when he truly looks at you again he finds that you appear abnormally tired and exhausted. He isn’t going to sugarcoat anything and he could be making a giant assumption, but he still asks.

“Is someone hurting you?”

Your eyes widen for a split second and Xiao catches that movement like a cat drawn to a laser pointer. He won’t force you to explain unless you feel comfortable doing so. The last thing he wants is upsetting you or pressuring you into something you don’t want to talk about.

Eventually, though, the story will come to light and he’ll hear all about the horrors you’ve gone through. That rope burn was just one of many punishments you’ve had to endure, and Xiao’s just about ready to snap. How dare someone lay their filthy hands upon you in such a violent way?

Xiao will calmly tell you to stay at Wangshu Inn or anywhere else in Liyue where you’ll be safe. He’ll watch over you while you take time to recuperate and heal. He’s going to make sure you’ll never have to go through something like that ever again.

Having Xiao by your side makes the healing process all the more comforting.

And when you fall asleep in a soft, warm bed, Xiao slips out into the night to search for your abuser. It won’t be a pretty sight once he gets his hands on the human trash who dared to hurt you.

💧 Childe 💧

He’s very perceptive when it comes to your health and overall well-being. After all, he’s got brothers and sisters to care for; perception is absolutely necessary in order to keep them happy and healthy.

So it doesn’t take long for him to realize your behavior is uncharacteristic. You’re jumpier than usual, always apologizing for the littlest of things, and you’ll look over your shoulder whenever you sense something.

It’s almost as if you expect someone to suddenly come at you, which isn’t all that odd. Childe has been known to keep you on your toes when he’s looking for a fight.

But on one particular day he manages to give you a spook when he comes up beside you, grinning and showing up in your peripheral so suddenly that it nearly gives you a heart attack. 

You’re so frightened as you back away, practically folding in on yourself in an effort to protect yourself from an imaginary blow. Childe pauses, that silly grin fading when he realizes you’re shaking.

“Hey, it wasn’t that scary. Come on, comrade!” He’s approaching you warily, not entirely sure why you’re acting the way you are. He’s always been spontaneous; you should be used to this by now.

But you refuse to let him come any closer, having to distance yourself so that you can ease your racing heart and hyperventilating lungs. Once you’ve calmed down, embarrassment floods through you at the fact that Childe just witnessed all of that. 

Childe will ask if you’re okay with him stepping closer and if you nod he’ll be on you like a hawk, pulling up your sleeves before you can stop him. 

For once, you catch an expression you normally don’t find on Childe: surprise. He’s genuinely shocked at what he sees: dark bruises and shallow lacerations from something sharp. 

Either you got these in your many sparring matches or there’s another factor at play here, and Childe is almost certain it’s the latter.  

His voice is gentle as he asks you to explain what’s going on and once you do he’s already set on finding the one who did this. He seems to forget all about his Fatui work, wanting to capture your abuser and give them a piece of his mind—and subject them to more than a few pieces of his strength, too. 

He’ll have you protected in no time, offering to take you to the best healer. You’ll be treated wonderfully and he’ll even lay off on your sparring matches for a while. 

In the meantime, once he gets his hands on your abuser, everything becomes fair game. After all, someone has to handle the brunt of his anger and pent-up bloodlust from the lack of a fight. And your abuser is the perfect match to pummel into the ground. Childe shows absolutely no mercy for them. 

[cno-inbminor]

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin​ for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia 

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings:  DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

-

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

-

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

-

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

-

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and  caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him.  It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,”  he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

-

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

-

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

-

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

-

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

-

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

-

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

-

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

-

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

-

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

-

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

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When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

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(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

[forever-rogue]

if you’re still taking requests for Bucky, can you do one from this quote if it sparks any inspiration: ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’

A/N: please, this is so soft 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped soft lips as Bucky laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling. There was almost no sound in the room besides the rhythmic ticking of the aging clock on the wall, combined with the sounds wafting in from the open window, and the almost non-existent humming of his vibranium appendage. He reached his hand up to his chest to ground himself by touching the dog tags that had been his for way too many years now. A temporary moment of panic set into his bones when he realized there was nothing there, but revelation quickly dawned on him as he remembered that they were currently with you. The last he’d seen them, you were wearing them, the metallic silver tags safely nestled under the soft fabric of your t-shirt.

When he’d given them to you, a sign of his desire to call you his, among other things, he never actually expected that you’d wear them. The first time he’d spied you wearing them, along a casual outfit consisting of jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, he’d almost short circuited. There was something about comforting knowing they were safe and sound in your possession now. They were yours now too - just like he was.

A gentle tugging lifted the corners of his mouth into the semblance of a smile. How foreign it still felt sometimes, the gentle feeling of blossoming happiness and knowing he was loved. Loved. What a strange and odd concept that was. He couldn’t remember the last another soul had told him they loved him besides in the most platonic sense. But the first time you’d whispered those words to him, so effortlessly, so easily, I love you, his whole world came to a screeching halt and he was sent into a wild spiral that left him speechless. Bucky hadn’t reciprocated your words then; but it wasn’t long after that he did. It had been a half shout, half declaration as you just grinned at him, pulling him against your lips and only letting him go when you were both breathless and dizzy.

He relaxed at the thought, settling against the pillow as he reminded himself to swim in happy memories, rather than drown in the ghosts of the past.

His phone vibrated against the glass top of the coffee table as it startled him out of his stupor, causing him to almost roll off the couch in surprise. He scrambled to grab the phone, and relaxed when he saw your name on the screen. Straightening himself up, he cleared his throat before answering, “hi sweetheart.”

“Bucky!” your excited voice on the other end of the line made his heart relax as he just imagined you bouncing around your small floral shop, making sure everything was perfect, “it’s about time you answered, old man. I’ve called you like three times! Did I disturb your afternoon nap, Barnes?”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling an old man,” he snorted as he stood up and stretched, surprised by how easily you were able to read him, “I got decades on you, kid, respect your elders.”

“Respect me when I’m right,” you grinned as he laughed lightly. How easily everything seemed to flow between the two of you; he’d never thought he could have anything like this again. Even once he’d left Wakanda and life slowly went back to a semblance of normality after the Blip, he still had a hard time trusting people; perhaps, more than anything else, he didn’t trust himself.

While he knew he was himself again, Bucky, and not the Winter Soldier, he still was never quite convinced that he wouldn’t ever go back. For so long he had been nothing but a killer, it was hard to believe that he could ever be fully himself again. So he’d closed himself off, steeled himself, despite the constant reassurance from the people around him that it was okay to let others in. He couldn’t trust himself - after so long...how could he? How was he just supposed to be able to pick the pieces and just be James again?

But he was learning, over time, slowly, bit by bit, that it was okay to let people in, okay to feel, and be okay and also not be okay. Sure, some days were hard, but the good days were good. And they were getting to become more and more frequent.

“Bucky? Hello?” you called his name from the other line, trying to get him to snap back into attention, “James? James Buchanan Barnes?”

“S-sorry,” his voice was soft and gentle for a moment, “I...yeah.”

“Yeah,” you teased softly, “zoning out again huh, my love? I know how you get. What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

“Nothing much,” he admitted, shrugging to himself despite the fact that you weren’t able to see him, “when are you off?”

“Whenever I want to be,” you reminded him, “I’m the boss now, remember? Why do you ask? Got some grand plans for us?”

“Nah,” he confessed, “just want to come and see you. Is it okay if I stop in? I’d come and bring you some flowers...but that would seem a little...on the nose.”

“Ahh, look at you,” he could practically hear you grinning, “very clever, aren’t you? Come and see me - it’s been slow so I might as well close up when you get here. Maybe we can go for a walk and get dinner?”

“Sounds great,” he agreed softly, “see you soon.”

“See you soon, Bucky.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

While you waited for Bucky to arrive, a brilliant idea popped into your head. You quickly grabbed a vase and started to gather some of the flowers that reminded you of him. It wasn’t long before you had a variety of them, neatly arranged and topped off with a bow, ready and waiting for him. He walked into your small shop, ready to announce himself but quickly found that he didn’t have to.You were perched up on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you tilted your head to the side and studied him with a small smile. He was dressed casually today, sporting a dark blue henley and a pair of well fitting jeans. His arm, intricate and beautifully designed golden and black vibranium, wasn’t on full display, nor was it completely hidden. Progress; a step in the right direction, albeit small. He’d get there when he’d get there and if that took another five years or fifty, you planned on being there for him.

“Hi James,” you popped off the counter and met him halfway, letting him wrap you up and envelope you in his warm, tight grasp. His arms, his body, was your favorite place to be. You never felt more safe and secure than when you were wrapped up in him, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” he chuckled as you just nodded, pouting lightly as he couldn’t help but kiss you softly, “it’s only been a few hours since we’ve seen each other.”

“I know,” you ran a hand through his dark hair, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t miss you, does it?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed as you took his hand and pulled him over to the counter. Bucky dramatically rolled his eyes as he trailed after you. Your hand looked so small in his hand; delicate skin contrasted against harsh callouses as you gave him a squeeze of reassurance. Whatever hesitation or tension was left in his body seeped, replaced by a feeling of saccharine bliss, “what are you up to?”

“You always think I’m up to something,” standing in front of the flowers, you paused, studying his features before reaching up to tenderly cradle his face in your hands. Bucky, resilient and strong, turned into a puddle of mush and practical whimpers as you traced a delicate fingertip across his features, “perhaps this time you’re right.”

“Tell me then,” he turned his face, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as you used your free hand to reach behind you and push the vase to your side so he could see the ornate display. Blue eyes narrowed, highlighting the wary crease in his brow before they widened, softening all the way through. His hand slinked down to your waist, a light squeeze followed as he shuffled to the side and studied the flowers. Bright yellows and oranges, brilliant crimsons and pinks, and mellow pastels were suddenly under his intense scrutiny as he took in the sight of the blossoms, “w-what are these?”

“And here I was, thinking you were smart,” standing behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, delicately and slowly at first so you wouldn’t startle him. His frame stiffened for a mere moment before he relaxed, the weight of your head on his back a welcome burden he was happy to bear, “these are called flowers.”

“Very funny,” you could feel the laugh vibrate through his chest as a hand, one colder and more metallic than normal, but still all him, settled on your own. Pressing a line of soft kisses to his shoulders, you listened to the steady beating of his heart, “what’s the occasion?”

“There is none,” you insisted, “I just thought you would enjoy them. Look at the colors and blossoms, they all reminded me of you. So brilliant and warm and bright and lovely - just like you, Bucky.”

A few beats of silence met your ears as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, a million thoughts swirling around his mind. Before you could speak or say anything else, he turned around in your arms so he was facing you. He gestured between you and the flowers for a few moments, finding himself at a loss for words, “me?”

“Yes,” you promised him, “for you. Do you like them?”

“I love them,” he reassured you, an easy warmth settling over you, “back in the day I would have been doing this for you…”

‘You’ve gotten me flowers plenty of times,” you laughed, a sound that had easily become his favorite thing in almost no time, “besides, you deserve some nice things too.”

“I’ve been thinking…”

“That’s a new one,” you teased as he jokingly groaned, “ I jest! I’ve noticed you’ve been a little more quiet and stoic lately...I didn’t even know that was possible for you. What’s been on your mind, my love?”

“There’s this quote that came into mind...I heard it somewhere, but I can’t remember from what or who,” he mused as he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, “it’s something along the lines of ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’ I feel like...I can do that with you - like I can be myself and you’re not judging me, even though you know who I am.”

“Bucky - James - I know who you are,” it was surprising you didn’t melt into a puddle then and there, melting into nothingness at his feet. You leaned in, looking at his eyes for a few moments before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. You broke apart slowly, reluctantly before resting your forehead against his, “I know exactly you who are. And I love you for it - a good man, friend, partner, and so many other things. You are good, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or thinks. Fuck them - the people that know you know who you really are.”

“Even after…”

“Even after everything that’s happened,” you promised, “you are safe with me. I’m not going to suddenly turn my back on you and walk away. I love you, Bucky. You have me, now and forever, and I’ve got you, always. That’s not going to change. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you could feel him smiling against your lips as he breathed you in and let you overwhelm his senses, “I know that.”

“Good,” you smiled as you reached for his hand, “let’s go to get dinner. I’m starving.”

“Don’t you need to close up?”

“Nah,” you winked at him, “I closed up as soon as we got off the phone earlier so we would have interruptions. C’mon Buck, I’m going to take you for a night on the town! What do you say?”

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, “there’s just one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“This,” he pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply as your body melded into his, “I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[canislupus-exe]

Made for Each Other | eddie munson

>>gif credit to @/rpvisualosities<<

fandom | Stanger Things

character | Eddie Munson

reader | she/her/afab (he/him/amab ver.)

requested | anonymous

warnings | smut/nsfw, mutual perversion, peeping, mild degradation

word count | 1,804

keys | (Y/n) = Your name

summary | can u maybe do an eddie munson smut where the reader catches him masturbating to a polaroid of her and then the reader fucks him 👉👈

editor | @feliscatus-exe

>> back to prev <<

Keep reading

You sighed as you checked your watch, the time read 9:17. The day had been surprisingly slow so you decided to hang out with your best friend, but found his company had barely changed that fact. You’d burned through two movies with him and were going to start a third when he suddenly realized something and bolted out of the room. 

That was a few minutes ago and now you were waiting for his return, sprawled out on his bed. You yawned and laid your head against the pillow. Nothing happened until finally, you heard the bedroom door open. You lifted your torso and leaned on your elbows, raising your eyebrows at him. A bright flash caused you to blink rapidly and groan.

“Dude, what the hell?” You asked, sitting up fully and rubbing your eyes. You could hear Eddie laugh before feeling the bed shift as he sat next to you.

“Ain’t she a beaut?” He asks. You stop rubbing your eyes and look at what’s in his hand. It’s a Polaroid picture of yourself. Your shirt is slightly lifted and your pajama bottoms are slightly misplaced, revealing a small bit of your hip area. Your eyelids are slightly drooped, making you look sleepy and even somewhat sultry.

“When did you get a Polaroid?” You asked.

“I found it at the thrift store just outside of town. I seriously couldn’t believe my luck. It was a little busted right here, see, but nothing some duct tape couldn’t fix.” He raved, showing you all parts of the camera. You smiled fondly.

“That’s awesome Eddie.” You say, handing him the picture. He looks at it for a couple of seconds before looking back up at you.

“You don’t want to keep this?” He asks. You shake your head.

“Nah, what purpose do I have for a picture of myself?”

“Wouldn’t I have even less of a purpose for a picture of you?” He asks with a laugh. You shrug and smile.

“I don’t know. Use it to remember me or if you miss me.” You say with a snicker.

“That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” Eddie replied. You laughed before standing up from the bed.

“I should probably go home now Eddie. It’s getting late and we have school tomorrow.” You say, grabbing your car keys from his nightstand. 

“Already?” He asks a twinge of sadness in his voice. You smile.

“I’ll be back, probably sooner than you even realize. Thanks for letting me hang and keep you company though.” You said. He nodded and stood from the bed, walking you toward his front door.

You said bye and locked up his door, hopping in your car and starting it up. Your house wasn’t too far from the trailer park, which you were thankful for. It made your visits to his place that much more convenient. You whistled to the song on the radio, mindlessly tapping your steering wheel while focusing on the road.

As you pulled up to a crossroad to take a right turn, you realized how cold you were. You always kept your windows rolled down when you drove but it was much chillier than usual. You were about to turn when it dawned on you that you left your jacket at Eddie’s house. No wonder I’m freezing, you think to yourself as you pop a quick U-turn and backtrack to the trailer park.

It doesn’t take long since you didn’t get very far. In a matter of six minutes, you’re putting your car back in park in Eddie’s driveway. You toss your keys in your jean pocket, knocking on his door. There’s no answer, and you can’t help but assume he’d fallen asleep. Normally, you wouldn’t intrude, but the freezing Indiana temperatures urged you to use the spare key he’d gifted you years ago. Just for emergencies, he told you, and if you stayed out there any longer without a protective layer you’d freeze your tits off, which was as close to an emergency as you could damn near get.

You opened the door and shut it quietly behind you, not wanting to wake him up. You quickly scanned the living room, searching for your jacket. It was nowhere to be found but you didn’t fret, you probably just left it in Eddie’s room. You walked toward his bedroom door, seconds away from pushing it open when you heard a noise.

Not just any noise, though. A very distinct type of noise that caused your feet to stay planted on the floor and your stomach to meet them there. It was a moan. A moan that no doubt belonged to your best friend. Your heart began to thump louder than it ever has but you tried to drown it out, listening for another noise to prove you weren’t going crazy. 

And there it was again. A whiny, high-pitched moan that sent tingles down your spine and blood rushing to your crotch. You clasped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to regulate your breathing, scared you’d make a noise and alert him that you were here. Which you should’ve done, you knew that. You knew how wrong it was to listen to someone get off, but you couldn’t move your feet.

And to make matters worse, your eyes found themselves drawn to the crack in the door. You weren’t just listening now, you were full-on peeping on your best friend jacking off, and God was it making you wet.

The sliver in the door was small but if you angled yourself just right you could see enough. His right hand rapidly moved up and down his shaft while his left held a picture that looked almost familiar. Further up you could see his shirt lifted and his left hand holding a piece of clothing to his nose, which he was no doubt sniffing with fervor. The item of clothing was also familiar. It almost looked like…

“(Y/n)~” Eddie whined breathlessly, and the air around you seemed to turn cold. That couldn’t have possibly been…

“Fuck- (Y/n)…” He moaned again, and you were sure of it this time. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, moaning your name. That wasn’t the only thing he was doing. As he continued to furiously pump his shaft with his fist you realized why everything looked so familiar. He was holding the Polaroid he took of you earlier and sniffing your jacket. Eddie was masturbating to the thought of you.

“God p-please I need you~” He moaned, panting heavily. You got so warm in the face and so fuzzy in the brain that you acted without thinking. You pushed the bedroom door open and walked in, causing him to yelp and throw everything off of him. He scrambled to pull a blanket over himself to salvage a shred of his modesty but you’d already seen too much.

“Don’t stop on my account sweetheart. In fact, let me help you~” You say, popping the button of your jeans. His face turns bright red, staring at you in utter disbelief.

“(Y-Y/n) I can explain-“

“Explain what? That you were jacking off to a picture of me? Mmm, what did you imagine we were doing Eddie?” You asked, pulling the blanket off as you licked your lips. 

“I-I wasn’t-“

“Come on Eddie~ You can tell me. If you ask nicely, I might even do it to you~” You whisper in his ear, gently placing your hand around his already twitching cock. He gasps and whimpers, covering his mouth to stop the needy noises from spilling out.

“You were so loud before, what happened to ‘I need you’?” You asked, moving your hand up and down his shaft. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lowered his hands, babbling for a second as he presumably tried to find the right words.

“I was i-imagining you- ah- riding me into- hng- oblivion.” He gasped out, balling his hands into the sheets. You smirked, pulling your hand away and watching him practically chase your touch.

“That can be arranged.” You reply, pulling your pants and panties off all the way. He watched with wide eyes as your soaked pussy was revealed, dripping with arousal and making his mouth water. He watched you bend and spit on his cock, gasping at the sudden cold sensation. You rubbed it down the shaft, expertly lubing him up in seconds and causing him to turn to putty once again.

Once you were finished prepping him, you positioned your entrance over his hard cock, teasing by gently prodding it. He whined, staring at you with pleading eyes. You decided to take mercy on him and finally sink down, groaning as he filled you up. He bit his lip harshly and squeezed his eyes shut, overcome with the pleasure of being inside you.

“Look at you, you filthy little pervert. Getting fucked by the girl you were jacking off to.” You practically growled at him, an irregular dominance clouding your mind. He moaned and covered his face, too embarrassed to look you in the eyes.

“Maybe we’re made for each other though.” You say somewhat fondly as you pick up your pace. He moans, face still covered, but he manages to get out two words of inquiry.

“W-We are?” He asks meekly. You laugh almost sadistically as you rest your hands on his stomach.

“We are… wanna know why?” You ask, slowing your hips just the slightest bit to grab his focus.

“Why?” He asks breathlessly.

“Because I’m a pervert too Eddie. I watched you jack off to me. I liked watching you jack off to me.” You say, giving him no time to process what you’ve said before starting to bounce vigorously on him again. This practically sends him over the edge, whimpering and begging to cum as you intensely rode him like never before. He grabs your hips and begins moaning frantically

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m- agghn!” He gasps for air and digs his nails into your skin, body shaking as spurts of cum shoot from the head of his cock and nestles deep inside your pussy. The sounds he’s making and the feeling of him releasing inside you proves to be too much as your hips sputter and you let out a loud moan, shaking as your own orgasm so intense takes over your body and leaves you trembling.

You gasp in an attempt to regain your breath, Eddie still latched onto you like his life depends on it. You chuckle and let your body weight fall onto him, electing to clean yourselves up later. You do however decide to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek at the moment, and you’re glad you do when you see his flushed face fondly smile.

[yoichichi]

Phone Sex

18+ MINORS DNI

jean, armin, & eren (sep) x reader

warning(s): slight dom reader, male masturbation, humiliation, degradation, edging, phone sex, crying ig?, self-masturbation mentioned in Jeans but I tried to make it gender neutral, eren calls reader mommy in his but it’s like slightly a joke ,, at first🧍‍♀️

a/n: ANON YOU.... you have a mind of gold. This was a request for reading guiding the boys while they masturbate so this is that! I hope this was what you were looking for anon! :) <3 and as always I love to hear your thoughts so pls send them in 😭 i also did my best to keep the reader neutral when it mentions the reader masturbating !

Jean

When you were woke up at 2 in the morning by a call from Jean, you definitely thought you’d be racing over to his place for some kind of emergency. But when you slid your thumb across the screen and held your phone up to ear, grumbling out a ,“hello?”, instead you were met with whiny, breathy moans, pleading for a different kind of help.

“Baby? You up?” You could barely hear him over his heavy panting.

“Well, I am now.”

It was silent for a few moments while you heard him shuffling around in his bed.

“Do ya need something babe? What’d you call me so late for?” You took an innocent tone to your voice, but you knew exactly what he needed from you.

“Hnng- ah- um, yeah. I - are you - ah - busy?”

You sighed and grumbled for him to give you a second as you moved to lay on your back and put your headphones on,

“You’re sitting there with that pretty cock of yours in your hands, aren’t you? So needy and desperate to cum that you had to wake me up at 2 in the morning just to hear my voice? Aw, I never knew you were such a little slut, Jean.”

Your hands reached down between your legs to slide your bottoms off at the sound of a hoarse whimper from the other end of the phone call, clearly he was caught off guard by your sudden crude words.

“You like that? Being reminded how much of a slut you are for me?”

“Ah - mhm.” You could hear the speed of his hand increasing, and judging by his moans you could tell he was getting close.

“Look at you, all worked up and already about to make a mess of yourself. Wanna cum baby? Tell me how bad you want it.” You hummed as you brought your fingers down to play with yourself, now throbbing with need from the sound of Jeans moans; which were filled with the obvious longing to be fucking you or your dirty mouth instead of his fist.

“Oh god, I want it so bad, only you - fuck - only - oh god, baby please lemme cum.” You could see him now, a panting sweaty mess with his large hand wrapped around his cock. He was probably bucking up into his hand, the other one fisting the sheet while he tried to ground himself and wait for your permission, wanting so bad to be good for you. The head of his cock slightly swollen with need and his pretty face all scrunched up with focus.

“Yeah? You wanna cum?”

“Fuck, yes. Please?”

“Awww, what a good boy. Go on and lemme hear you cum then.”

His pretty groan filled your ears before it came out strangled and separated with gasps.

You let him ride out his high a bit longer until he spoke.

“Thank you, babe. Sorry to wake you up.” He had a sense of bashfulness to his voice - not matching the confidence he had earlier to dial you in the first place.

“Mmm, don’t worry about it. You can make it up to me by staying on the line until I cum this time.”

Armin

You’d be lying if you said Armins sniffling coming through the phone didn’t make you smile. You love when he listens to you, even when it’s killing him to do so.

“C-can I, can I keep going?” His voice was so soft and meek you could barely hear him.

He sat with his hand resting at the base of his cock, not squeezing or moving an inch. Every so often he’d run his hand through his hair or let it slide down his chest, brushing past his nipples, desperate for some kind of stimulation.

Every twitch of his cock made the tears resting on his lash line spill and stream down his red cheeks, god you could just imagine it. What you wouldn’t give to be in front of him now and see it for yourself.

“Mhm, but I want you to go nice ‘n slow. You think you can do that for me?” You did your best to keep your tone calm and unwavering, luring him into doing what you wanted, knowing he’s a sucker for receiving your praise.

“Of course I can.” He said it matter of factly, almost appalled that you’d assume he couldn’t do anything you ask of him.

“Well, go on then.”

He hissed at the sensation of his cold, tough hands dragging slowly up his cock, squeezing slightly at the head just to tease himself further - making sure to let an erotic moan slip past his lips to let you know he was going above and beyond for you. Even fondling his balls just to make the desire to cum all that more excruciating, and showing you just how much he could take if it meant being good for you.

“You sound so pretty baby, think you can hold out just a little bit longer for me? You know how much I love listening to you touch yourself, such an angel.”

“Y-yes.” He swallowed thickly - loud enough that you could hear it - knowing how proud of him you were gonna be.

“Good boy.”

Eren

Eren rarely enjoyed phone sex, too needy and demanding to think it was worth it; especially when he could pick you up or come over at any time. So why the hell would he choose to be separated and touch himself while he listened to you over the phone?

But I guess it’s different when he’s at work and only has 30 minutes to ease the strain in his pants and get you off his mind. Which is exactly why he’s calling your contact with a shaky hand as he sits in his car, making sure to park where no one would come to bother him, with the other hand busy pulling out his fat cock previously stuffed and feeling claustrophobic in his jeans - he’s lucky his work apron kept his appearance decent.

He hissed at the way it sprang up against his abdomen, his cock head already angry and swollen. God he hated you, getting him all worked up at work just because he couldn’t stop thinking about bending you over and slamming you so hard you couldn’t do anything but whine and whimper, not even able to get out a coherent sentence about how good he filled you up.

But the moment he heard the ringing falter and your sweet voice greet him , “Hey babe what’s up? Aren’t you at work right now?”, all animosity left his body. A low whimper leaving his lips instead, so desperately wanting your lips wrapped around his cock it was almost agonizing.

“Fuck babe, I need you - oh fuck - I need you to make me cum quick, ah hnngh god -“ he spoke so fast and quiet you almost thought he was in trouble, but judging by the way his voice was getting raspy, and the way it cracked at the end of his sentence, you knew he was perfectly fine.

You sighed and set your highlighter down, knowing you wouldn’t be getting back to your studying any time soon.

“Babe? You there? I -“

“Mhmm, ‘m right here.” You cut him off quickly, gnawing at your bottom lip to the sounds of his quiet pants, knowing he was quickly fisting his cock and probably on his lunch break, needing to finish fast, doing his best to cum as quick as he could, and yet he still needed to call you to help him do that? God what an ego boost.

But, you were busy studying. And rarely do you have him in such a powerless position, why not have some fun with him?

“Okay, I’ll help.” You smiled coyly at his sigh of relief.

“Really babe? Oh my g-“

“But promise you’ll do what I say?”

He was silent for a moment, but he knew he didn’t have much time to protest and really, he was putty in your hands right now. He agreed before he could change his mind, and that’s what led him to the position he was in now.

His cock sensitive to the touch and his hair falling out of his bun, his face flushed and looking slightly a mess with the sweat that was beginning to collect on his forehead.

He probably had but two minutes left on his break and he needed to come, bad.

“Please, Jesus fuck I’ve been listening but god I need to cum. I’m -“

“Okay Eren I hear you,” you giggled for a moment and he felt his stomach drop, you were up to something, “why don’t you ask mommy for permission?”

“What?”

You giggled again at his exclamation and knew he was getting frustrated by the groan he let out, but you were having too much fun, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

“You heard me, you wanna cum so bad? Call me mommy and beg for it.” You sighed and sat back in your chair. He should’ve expected you to do something to get back at him for bothering you while you were busy, what either of you weren’t expecting though was how quickly he caved.

“Mommy, please.” His voice cracked from the dryness of his throat as he whimpered out his plea, not expecting it to send your stomach into a frenzy.

“God please let me cum, please mommy, please.”

“Y-yeah okay, go on and finish.” You sat in shock as you heard his sweet moans come through the phone, an octave higher than they’d usually be.

“I-, fuck, I gotta go back to work. You really cut it close babe. See you when I get home.” He hung up quickly, hoping it didn’t come off as rude - he just had little to no time to clean himself up before he had to clock back in.

But it didn’t matter cause you were still reeling from the way he so freely whimpered out mommy, and how enticing it sounded coming from him.

Hmm, you had a lot to think about.

———————

THIS IS MY FIRST KINDA DOM READER THING SO PLS GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS YOU KNOW I LOVE THEM and ily it’s been a while since I posted :) <3

taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon @peachysimp @semisgroupie (I hope it’s ok to tag you it’s kinda subby boys so I thought you might be interested 🧍‍♀️)

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards

(Technoblade x Reader) link to Pt. II :)

Picking up a bundle of wood you let out a soft breath, you watched as it escaped out your lips in front of you in a small cloud. Trudging through the snow you made your way back to your house, well it wasn’t really your house. A few months ago you ran into Technoblade while he was searching for a new home far away from this place called L’manburg; he told you he was in retirement and was surprised to find another person all the way out here. As a wandering adventurer, you eventually won him over with your charm, wit, and humor.

That was a joke of course.

You both started a mutual trade agreement, on your way back from the adventures you’d always take a pit stop at his place so he could see if you had anything worth trading. It started slow, he realized you would come back very late at night, and very weary. He offered you to stay the night once, then once turned into twice and before you knew it you began to stay at his place after every late-night adventure. As you spent more time together he helped you become a better fighter, and farmer and you helped him learn social skills and how to cook food that wasn’t steak.

He never told you about his time in the country of L’manburg or why he was in retirement in the first place but you didn’t mind. Everyone has their secrets and even if both of you were considered friends at this point you never pried. Not even when you’d catch him mumbling to himself about chat, or the bloodthirsty look in his eyes after he killed an animal. You kept your mouth shut out of respect, you could tell he appreciated the gesture.

You earned yourself a friendship emerald after he introduced you to his oldest friend Philza, the man treated you like you were his family. It made you feel wanted and welcome, Techno had a little smile on his face the entire interaction as the both of you bonded. In his mind he was ecstatic his two favorite people were getting along. Techno walked Philza out of the house and returned holding an emerald out to you, you knew how valuable these emerald were to him. You were in such shock and awe you almost started crying which caused him to panic.

“I’ll treasure it with my life.” You told him kissing said emerald gently, blush spread across his pale face to his pointed ears.

“I’m glad.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Chat- chat stop I’m not simp.” You heard him whisper hiss softly but you ignored it, choosing to smile at him instead. He noticed and his blush only deepened. You took his hand, it was so small intertwined in his own, and squeezed it softly.

Eventually, the both of you grew closer than just friends which understandably scared the half pigman to death. You caught him mumbling to himself more frequently, especially when you both were out fighting monsters and gaining experience.

Things like: “I’m not a simp” and “Calm down I’m gonna protect her” as well as “I can’t just say that!” Were very frequent mumblings of his, your brow furrowed and after fighting a baby zombie you turned towards him,

“Hey Technoblade you doing okay?”

“Yes!” He sputtered out reassuring you that he was just fine by saving you from a Skeleton.

You two watched the sunset that same day from on top of a snowy mountain and he confessed to you. The confession was a bit rough around the edges but then again so was he, so to you, it was perfect. You took his hands to get him to stop rambling and kissed his knuckles. He made an embarrassed sound and looked away from you, you cooed teasingly at him and accepted. From then on you both were attached at the hip, well as attached as he’d let you be there was still that level of awkwardness that came with any new relationships but it was wonderful. You’d both spent hours by the fireside as he read to you, you’d help him care for Carl and get enchanted books all the while you were in awe of this magnificent and mysterious man before you.

Shaking your head smiling to yourself you trudged back to his house, the emerald around your neck bounced in tandem with your steps. Technoblade never liked leaving you alone, you reminded him constantly that you had a life before he was in it but he still seemed to be on edge. You figured it had something to do with his past so you did your best to reassure him that you’d be safe when he was away; Techo seemed to appreciate your efforts at least. Whenever he got back from what you assumed was visiting Phil (after all, Carl was gone), you were going to run him a bath and braid his hair the way he liked. Maybe you’d make him a nice dinner then you’d both fall asleep together while reading. It’d earn you some soft kisses and snuggles later, you giggled to yourself as you put away the wood. If you told anyone else this giant of a man, who you’ve seen wipe out hordes of monsters like it was nothing, loves to be cuddled at night they’d call you insane.

You wandered down into the basement to feed his cow but the sound of a blocks-breaking startled you out of your daydream. You whipped around pulling out your sword in the way Technoblade showed you and came face to face with a blonde child peeking out from the floorboards.

“What the FUCK?!” You both shrieked at one another, he moved to try and scramble back down the hole. You followed him down his ladder, you weren’t going to let this child get away with living under your boyfriends’ house so easily. You backed him into a corner and took note of his beat-up appearance and his attempts to look brave as he held up his hands. Sweat gathered on his brow but you didn’t let your guard down, before you could open your mouth to question him he began to talk so fast and loud you could barely keep up.

“OI, OI, OI, OI! LADY, LADY, LADY, CALM DOWNNNN CALM DOWN! SEE, SEE WE’RE BOTH IN TROUBLE CAUSE WE’RE BOTH STEALING- BORROWING FROM THE BLADE! THE BLADE KNOWS ME! I AM HIS LITTLE BROTHER, TOMMY, I AM SURE YOU’VE HEARD OF ME! THEREFOR I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG. YOU-YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, ARE A STRANGER! YOU KNOW HE’S A BLOOD GOD RIGHT? HE’LL ABSOLUTELY KILL YOU, BUT BUT! IF WE KEEP THIS BETWEEN US I WON’T HAVE TO TELL HIM ANYTHING AT ALL FAIR? SEEMS FAIR TO ME-”

You reached your hand out to cover his mouth, your eyes narrowed into slits, “Start again. Softer and slower. Techno never told me he had a brother.” You watched the eyes of the blonde widen in surprise, assumingly at the notion that you already knew Technoblade. Slowly you removed your hand from his mouth but didn’t lower your guard. He cleared his throat, swallowing tentatively.

“I’m Tommy. We’re not related by blood- who ARE you?” he pressed still completely baffled at the appearance of a GIRL who knew Technoblade. Before you could even respond to him he let out another baffled cry. “DOES HE SIMP FOR YOU!?” He shrieked pointing at you as he waved his finger around. “THERE’S NO WAY- HE DOES HOLY SHIT!” Tommy laughed as you blinked rapidly, how was he able to read all that without you even saying anything? You were trying to process who this kid was while also being stuck on the blood god thing. You felt Tommy’s arm around your shoulders suddenly as he pulled you close. “Well, Miss Blade now that we know who you are maybe we can strike a deal-“

“Absolutely Not.”

“HEY! Come on now.” Tommy whined loudly, “I need your help here! Look I’m sure you know why he’s in hiding and all...and well...I might’ve pissed the same people off and-”

“Actually no. I didn’t know that…” You spoke softly deflating a little, “He’s in hiding? From who exactly.”

A look of shock came across Tommy’s face, “You mean...you don’t know? Like about L’manburg and his betrayal.”

“Does it sound like I know? Look Tommy you seem like a nice kid really, but you need to leave-”

“Nonononnonononono. Look it’s fine, I’ve been living here for weeks now-”

“WEEKS?” You snarled a pink flush coming to your cheeks, you grabbed the boy’s arm and began to drag him up the ladders in Techno’s house. Hee was going to kill you like actually this time. You were about to throw open the door but it swung open in front of you. Techno was standing there completely bruised and bloody and you immediately dropped Tommy in favor of him.

“Oh my god Techno what happened?” You breathed out a worried breath he was about to respond before he noticed Tommy. He grabbed you by the arm and pushed you behind him guarding you with his body.

“Tommy.” He snarled as the boy once again shrieked and booked it back down the ladder Techno turned towards you, “Stay here.” Technoblade commanded you softly the look in his eyes could only be described as desperate. “Don’t leave. Please.”

“I won’t…” You murmured watching him disappear after the British boy, you hoped he was going to explain everything to you after he dealt with the raccoon. You could hear them shouting from down below you, you couldn’t push it off any longer you needed to get answers from him.

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Part II maybe? Lmk if there’s an interest! Cause I love this man with my whole heart! Thanks so much for reading 🥺✨ link to Pt. II :)