#and also a source of warmth and hope - one that I so desperately needed back then and still do now

[viviane-lefay]

She's expressing exactly what I feel.

I'll cherish the Star Wars of yore - my Star Wars - but the rest I will definitely ignore, for the sake of my poor nerves.

If anything, there might be some few exceptions where I grow fond of one or two characters (though only my personal interpretation of them), but that was it.

And I prefer to keep it that way. I am sick of these constant disappointments.

[prythianpages]

Too Good To Be True | Lucien x Reader

...you're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...

summary: in which your newest muse catches you red handed.

word count: 1,600

a/n: I do struggle writing Lucien but I had seen this tiktok and wanted to write a meet-cute over it and when I saw this fanart above made by IG user kri_stasss_, I took this as a sign lol. I also listened to the song can't take my eyes off of you like 100x while writing this.

With a sigh, you lean back into your seat, allowing your eyes a break. You had been sitting at the corner of the bustling cafe for over an hour, choosing to surround yourself with Velaris’s warmth and the smell of coffee in the hopes to finally draw something.  But your sketchbook is spread open on the table with a half-finished drawing.

You look at the view before you, the Sidra River shimmering like pure sapphire under the sun’s gaze. The leaves of surrounding trees rustling gently in the soft spring breeze and flowers vibrant hues adorn the riverwalk. It’s a beautiful sight–one that many stop and admire. Yet, it is not enough to fuel the inspiration you so desperately need.

The flowing water and distant laughter of children blend into a soothing symphony as you absentmindedly twirl your pencil between your fingers, thoughts drifting. Send me a muse, you plead to the Cauldron, yearning to feel that thrill again.That spark that ignites your passion of drawing. The very one that moves your hand effortlessly across the paper.

The sound of iron against pavement startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. You blink your eyes back into focus and instinctively, they land on the source of the noise. The table diagonal from you, that had been vacant for the past hour, now has an occupant. An occupant who is blocking your view of the Sidra River, the very one that is half drawn across your sketchbook.

But you can’t bring yourself to complain.

Not when there is a man of striking beauty seated there. 

His mere presence commands your attention, his red hair catching the sunlight and gleaming like fire. You feel your breath catch in your throat as your eyes trace the elegant lines of his face. Brutal scars mar the left side of his face–from his brow all the way down to his jaw. 

Despite this, the male is devastatingly handsome. Ethereal. 

Too good to be true, you think, finding yourself captivated by his eyes. His right eye, whole and russet-colored, holds a depth that draws you in. But his left eye…His left eye is a mechanical marvel, golden and intricate, and gleaming with an otherworldly light.  

And suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to touch him. To reassure yourself that he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Gods, with a face and built body like his, he’d be heaven to touch…

A rush of excitement floods your veins and you feel a familiar thrill coursing through you. Your hands are turning the pages of your sketchbook until a blank page sits before you. And before you know it, you’re pouring your awe and fascination into each stroke of your pencil. Your eyes flicker up and down as you commit the details to mind, heart pounding every time with the fear of being caught. 

Though you're cautious about it, you’re too lost in his eyes to catch the way the male’s lips curve slightly upwards.

**

Lucien takes the last sip of his coffee, admiring the sight before him. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in twilight hues and dancing across the Sidra River. Along the riverwalk, Fae stroll leisurely. Couples walk hand in hand, children skipping along the cobblestone path, pausing to catch the fireflies that are now visible in the dimming light.

Velaris was proving to be more beautiful with each passing day—a sight he’d never expected from a place like the Night Court. All his life, he had only come to know the Court of Nightmares. A place that truly lived up to his name. And though there were children laughing and running freely, he couldn’t help but still be wary of the City of Starlight. It was still part of the Night Court, after all.

His eyes scan along the riverwalk, golden eye making a soft sound as it moves, in search of something. Or rather, someone. Just as a frown is about to settle on his face, he finds what he was searching for. The reason why he was at this cafe…despite the fact that the best espresso in town was at a little coffee shop in the Rainbow of Velaris.

You.

You are sitting at a bench, knees drawn up and a sketchbook nestled onto your lap. As the sun continues to make its descent, the street lamp near you croaks to life. It bathes you in its soft glow and he is able to appreciate the slight furrow of your brow, the slight way your lips purse in concentration. He wants to know what you're drawing.

Ever since he caught you staring at him at this very cafe, he had an inkling as to what may be hidden within those pages of your sketchbook. He had meant to approach you about it but you had been so into your sketch, he found the sight endearing and feared disrupting you. 

So he had left you to it and showed up to the cafe the next day at the same time in the hopes of seeing you again and he did. That time, your gazes had met and though it had been brief, it felt everlasting. He remembers the way your cheeks tinted with blush before you turned your head away, flustered at being caught. If only you had seen the way he had smiled softly to himself afterwards.

It’s been days since that incident. Though he didn’t find you in that same spot the day after, he came to the conclusion that this was your favorite area to frequent in Velaris. It slowly became his too, his eyes always finding you amongst the busy riverwalk. 

Lucien had never been the shy type–at least, not when it came to pursuing people he was interested in. He had just been waiting for the right time–for the right moment to talk to you. And as you closed your sketchbook with a light exhale, his heart fluttered as he realized what better time than now.

**

Calling it a night, you close your sketchbook with a soft sigh. The sun had been replaced by the moon and the street lamp’s light was too dim for your liking to continue you drawing. You feared messing up what you had meticulously spent hours on. As you rise from the bench and turn to make your way back home, you bump into a smaller frame than yours, the sketchbook in your hold falling from your grasp.

“Sorry, miss!” A lively voice chirps and when you look toward the source, the small child is already far away from you. Kids, you muse to yourself as you turn back around.

Your breath catches in your throat. Standing right in front of you is the male who has become your muse.

But he’s not looking at you.

No, he’s looking at the sketchbook on the ground. Your heart skips a beat, heat rising to your face. The sketchbook had opened to the pages you've been working on—the ones with multiple sketches of his eyes.

You’re frozen in horror, watching as he studies your work. None of you say anything for a moment. It’s when his gaze lifts to yours that you spring into action. “Oh,” you gasp, beginning to bend your knees to gather your belongings. You're absolutely mortified, praying to the Cauldron he can’t hear how fast your heart is racing.

“I’m so sorry.”

Before your hand can reach for your sketchbook, another hand beats you to it.

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice deep and enchanting, causing your hand to freeze in midair. There seems to be a magnetic pull in his words, a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. Is there anything about this male that is not attractive?

“I’ve never seen the beauty of my eyes until now.”

The words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them. “You’re joking, right?”

He’s knelt before you, his hand hovering over your book. But instead of picking it up for you, he grasps for your hand instead. It’s warm and calloused yet feels so good against yours. Like heaven. His eyes finally meet yours, holding you captive. He slowly brings your hand to his lips, and you don’t think you’re breathing as he presses his lips against your skin.

“No,” he grins as he rises to his full height, using his free hand to grab your sketchbook before bringing you with him. “I’m Lucien.”

It takes you a moment to realize he is waiting for you to speak, his presence overwhelming but exhilarating.

“I’m—” you clear your throat to steady your voice. “I’m y/n.”

“y/n,” Lucien repeats with a smile, finally handing you over your sketchbook.

You take it, immediately clutching the book tightly to your chest and avert your gaze, casting it downwards. “I promise I’m not a creep. I was drawing the Sidra–well, attempting to, anyway. But then you came along, blocking my view and something came over me. You see, I’ve been struggling with artist block and your eyes–your eyes are so pretty”--and under your breath, you mutter–” All of you is, if I’m going to be honest…”–Lucien’s smile widens at that–”and I finally felt inspired–oh gods, I’m rambling. I should just shut my mouth.”

Lucien’s russet eye twinkles with amusement. “I inspired you?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly and bashfully.

“Then perhaps,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “I should let you inspire me as well.”

Slowly, you lift your head back up, meeting his eyes once more. A wave of relief surges through you as you find nothing but sincerity and shared interest in his gentle gaze. You find yourself mirroring his smile, and something warm blossoms in Lucien’s chest—the start of something beautiful.

And he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the Night Court isn’t so bad after all.

a/n: okay, that's enough Lucien for now. Can't keep letting him distract me because I need to focus back on the other Vanserra *cough* Eris *cough*

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen

[wonderlandwalker]

Frozen Solid | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Your past is haunting you, but Finnick is there to remind you it's going to be okay

Content Warnings/Tags: Nightmares, trauma, ANGST, character death, happy ending though dw, hypothermia, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested by Anon: Do you think you could do something fluffy with Finnick Odair x Víctor! Reader where the readers games were in the extreme cold and they say something like “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again” to Finnick

A/N: Please send me more requests! I am dying to keep writing but I don't have any more ideas. Also my spell check keeps telling me it's 'realized' not 'realised' and now I'm doubting my entire knowledge of the English language. Did not read this after writing it so praying my brain worked properly

To say the games left you with issues would be an understatement. But this particular memory always seemed to keep haunting you. Maybe that was because this had happened before you taught yourself to close yourself off from your problems. Maybe it was because you hadn't figured out how to find closure yet.

Maybe it was because you were still afraid. Afraid of the tribute towering over you. Even though you weren't a kid that hadn't hit your grow spurt anymore. Even though you weren't that defenseless, innocent child anymore. The tribute was still bigger, and simply the memories made you feel powerless.

The familiar trees surrounded you, but they didn't make you feel safe like they used to before. A layer of snow covered the leaves like a warm blanket, except it was anything but. You were shivering, trembling, not sure which one. So you ran, your fight or flight instincts trying to contradict the memory

So you ran from the man who had said he would help you. You ran from your problem. You ran from your fear.

But it didn't work, it never did. You ran out of the forest, but before you even realized, you were right back inside. Every time you ran you just got stuck again. But they were all different spots. All the ones where you had camped for the night, all the places where you sat silently, too scared to light a fire to warm yourself, not willing to take the risk of eating any food that needed cooking. They all made their way into your imagination, but they all had one thing in common, they made you feel afraid. For most, you thought, childhood memories should resemble a sense of ease, of making you feel secure.

But that feeling had disappeared for you when you first entered the arena. You could still see it in front of you as if it was a crystal clear picture. Your platform had come to a stop, and at first, you were blinded by the light, the bright sun. Your mind had tricked you into thinking the sun meant warmth, and comfort. But when your eyes adjusted, and you saw the frozen lake you were placed over. You saw the cornucopia, on a frosted island in the middle. It had weapons and food, but most importantly, it had thick coats and fur blankets. You wonder sometimes if you should have gotten one, if it would have helped you, but the risk was too great, so once you heard the canon, you immediately ran in the opposite direction, for the forest behind you.

The first thing you did was look for a freshwater source, but everything, everything, was frozen. When you had become desperate, you had started to punch a hole into the thick ice. It took a long time before you broke through the surface, your hands weren't strong enough, but you didn't give up. There was a small crack, and it gave you hope to continue. When you had managed to get to the water, your knuckles were bleeding, and you could see bruises starting to form. But it didn't matter. You had done it. You cupped your hands into the water and felt the cold come over them once again. It was soothing, in a way. Your hands had become warm from the strain, but it was the first time you had felt any sense of warmth since you entered, so you were disappointed to lose it. 

You brought the water to your lips, and took a sip from it. You could feel it course through your body, and while it satisfied your thirst, it felt as if there was ice inside your veins. You had been cold up to now, but it was nothing compared to this. You could feel your insides losing temperature from the icy water.

You saw him walking your way, and even if you tried to forget, you could see his face in so many details. From his freckles that you had always admired to the dark look that filled his eyes as he came closer

You knew there was no use in running, but you still did, not wanting to confront him, having avoided doing so for as long as you can now remember. But all it did was pull you back into the forest. 

He came from the same district as you, he had said you reminded him of his little sister, and he had offered a pact. You still weren't sure why, you didn't have much to offer him. But now you guess it must have been his own memories, his own innocence wanting to help the girl that you made him think of, made him think there was still good left in him. And so you accepted, and in a way, you were grateful, because you never would have won without him, but the turmoil that stuck with you was heartbreaking. Maybe it would have been easier if it had all been over then.

He was still walking towards you, and even though he wasn't saying a word, you could tell what was going on inside his head. You could see it by the way he walked, how his arms stayed tightly next to his body. You could even hear him yelling at you in your head.

You walked backwards until you hit one of the trees. You started calling out for help, even though you were fully aware no one would come. There was no one else left. You screamed, asking for someone to help you, and the fear made your voice shiver. You knew it was the fear this time. Your body had stopped shaking from the cold after a few days. You had thought that was it, your body had given up, the cold finally having overpowered it.

You stood up, scrambling to your feet. For once, you felt warm again, you felt the blood dilating your vessels, but you knew better than to get hope. You have seen this. You had seen this in other tributes. Your body making a last attempt to warm you up, giving you a boost of power right before it would all be over. In a way you were grateful, it would finally be over. You didn't even want to win anymore, you just wanted to be warm. 

But your instincts still told you to run, and with the extra energy coursing through you, you did. 

You ran to the frozen lake, to where it had all begun, it was the only thing you could think of to go to. You ran, you ran until could no longer even feel your legs moving. He followed behind you, of course he did. He was close behind, but you were smaller, you were leaner, and you might not have as much stamina, but when it came to a fast sprint you could only just outrun him. You didn't even watch where you were going anymore. The more you ran, the colder you started to feel again. You wanted to stop, to not lose any more. To keep this little bit you had been given, but you weren't sure it would even stay if you did. 

The trees started to disappear, and before you knew it, you were on the lake. When you had first gotten here, the lake had seemed peaceful, tranquil. But now, it was nothing short of a battlefield. The bodies might have been taken away, but the blood still stained the ice, and the axes and spears still stuck out of it like weeds disturbing the carefully crafted landscape. 

You ran as far as your fleeting body could carry you. You felt it before you saw it. Ice freezing cold. This was it, this was the end. It wasn't a haven to be at peace, it was even colder than you had been. Your clothes were clinging to your body like the blankets of snow you had first noticed. Your hair was stuck to your forehead and your neck. 

You remember in the beginning, when you would run, and you would sweat. It was the first time you had carefully appreciated it in your life, the warm droplets gracing your skin. But not anymore, if your body even had the energy to sweat, it was cold, it stuck to you like the first rain of autumn. The brisk wind in combination only making you shiver more. 

So you opened your eyes, if this was the end you had hoped for, you didn't want it anymore. You opened your eyes and focused on your senses. You saw the lake, but it had risen. You had fallen in it. You looked around you and saw the cracks in the frozen surface. 

The fights, the violence, it hadn't just taken a toll on you. The ice was suffering just as much. It was hard to see from the snow that covered it, but from where you were, you could see it from the footsteps that had disturbed it. You looked behind you, and you saw him again. He had seen you fall in, and halted. You could see relief come over him. Relief that he wouldn't be the one to have to kill you, that the water would do it for him. You almost felt bad for him, he hadn't wanted any of this either. And if you had been in his situation, you weren't sure you wouldn't have done the same thing. 

But the water was your friend, at least it used to be. 

In your district, you grew up surrounded by it. Going to the sea in the summer, swimming until the sun went down. You remember you used to get so cold when it disappeared and you were left on the beach alone. But now you longed for it. 

So you swam, you swam until you felt your hands meet the solid surface of ice again. You had been light before you came here, the lack of food taking a toll on everyone you know, but it was worse now. The only thing you knew how to get was fish. You knew how to fish, but anything else you had counted on was not there. There were no berries on trees, there were no plants that could survive in this environment. And so your frame had become even slimmer. Your arms were trembling as you tried to lift yourself. You weren't sure if you would manage. This couldn't be the end. If it ended like this, your body would float away in the water like the ice that was floating on it, and you would always be cold. 

With a surge of motivation, you lifted yourself onto the surface and as soon as you did you fell down on your back. You looked up, thinking you had done it, you could rest now. You looked up at the sky, the sun was there, but you didn't trust it anymore. 

You heard something else move, and it made your head snap up. He was still there. 

He considered his steps, he couldn't reach you from where he was. But it was just the two of you, and something had to give. So he walked around the hole you had fallen into. He traced around it. He stood in the footsteps that had already been placed in the snow. 

But you didn't care anymore. You had gotten yourself out of the water, and you laid your head back down, looking back at the sun. Trying to recall the memories it held. But you couldn't feel it anymore, you couldn't feel the radiating heat. So you made peace with being cold, at least it would be over soon. 

If he had left you be, your body probably would have given up before his did. But he wanted it to be over too, he didn't want to wait any longer. He took another step, and you could hear the crack that echoed through the empty space. You looked at him, and you saw him realising his mistake as it happened. The footsteps had looked like a path, but really, they were weak spots. The steps had caused the ice strain, and it had decided it had had enough.

The cracking sound continued, until you could see the ice start to get lopsided. It started to slide towards the open water you had fallen into. You could see his eyes plead, he had convinced himself he had already won, and he was watching all his hopes disappear with one shift of snow. He fell in the water, but he wasn't friends with it. He trashed and tried to move forward, but his body was too broad, and all it did was exhaust him further. You wanted to reach out for him, to help him. You knew the cold that engulfed the water and you didn't want him to die that way. But all it would do was drag you in with him, and you found yourself watching. You watched him as his head sank under, you kept watching as if he'd come back out. You watched until you heard the last canon. 

It made you feel even colder. You thought it was over. But you could feel your heart stop, it didn't stop beating, it stopped giving you warmth. The last piece you had, had sunken down with him. Your head was filled with panic. You would never feel warm again, you don't think your body knew how to anymore, and your mind was too frozen over to even try. And just as you felt your heart slow down, just as you thought you would die in this permanent state of despair, you heard a voice calling out to you

It sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it. It felt like a star calling to you, telling you to follow it into the sky, to fly, to be free, free of this fear.

It told you to wake up.

Before you knew it the smell of pine left you, being replaced with a mix of sea salt and jasmine, it smelt like home

You felt someone shaking you lightly, and you realised the smell wasn't bound to your surroundings, but the person that was next to you.

"Sweetheart, you need to wake up, you keep shaking." He told you in a sleepy, but still gentle voice.

As you started to get a better concept of your environment, you realised that in your distraught state, you had woken him up.

"I didn't mean to wake you I'm sorry, I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." You said, guilt already entering your mind.

"Hey, look at me, don't you dare apologise" He looked at you as if your worry pained him, and you couldn't stop the next words from leaving you.

"I'm scared I'll never be warm again Finnick" You started to cry, and he took you into his arms.

"If you're having nightmares, I will stay up with you until the sun rises again." He smiled down at you. And that's when you realized, he wasn't a star in the sky, he was the sun, he was your sun. His smile warmed you, and his arms around you made you believe again. He was your sun, and as long as you had him, he would warm you.

[justporo]

my queen. ur sfw alphabet for astarion....it was so good. so amazingly good. grrrrrRUFF!!! GRAAAAFPBRRRR!!!!!! anyways.....would you....be able.......to make......an nsfw alphabet 👀

Oh my sweet Anon, how could I say no? And you're not alone in wanting the NSFW version so here you go, hope you enjoy! And thank you so so much <3. You know flattery will most likely get you your way with me. Surely a thing Astarion and me share... This is Fem!Tav/Astarion btw.

I used this wonderful template (although I changed C slightly), thanks again to @the-coldest-goodbye.

Smutty headcanons about Astarion and Tav (in alphabetical order)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Astarion is very cuddly and comforting – especially if it was a little rougher. He’s always making sure you’re okay, holding you, kissing you gently, laying around naked afterwards just talking and relaxing. Especially since he’s learnt being comfortable with non-sexual intimacy he also just enjoys being close to you with skin-on-skin contact, feeling your warmth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

“Just one, love? Don’t make me choose a favourite?” Let’s face it, he knows he has the body and face of a fallen god. He takes pleasure in looking and being beautiful (rightfully so), he likes that he has a body that’s well built and incredible to look that. But not even in that kind of hollow way but it’s just aesthetically pleasing and that’s a source of joy for him (also he loves his hair a lot). That also goes for you: he’s constantly reminded of every single little beautiful detail about you. The way your neck curves in an elegant line, the way your lips open into a smile, the small lines in your irises that are only visible when he’s like an inch away from you, the little dimple above your butt? Ugh – he could get lost in all those little aspects for they’re all infinite spaces of beauty.

C = Coming (switched that one because I liked this more)

Astarion takes an incredible amount of pleasure in keeping you on edge sometimes. The way it’s so very much in his hands to let you fall or not and the way you’re willingly giving yourself to him in that way. He’d never truly make you suffer though – he only does what makes it more exciting for the both of you.

Sometimes it might even be a little bit of teasing who might be able to push the other beyond the point of no return. (Punishable by law and the other will pay!)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It turns Astarion on way too much when you wear his clothing. The way your ass looks when you’re wearing only his shirt, when it’s visible just beyond the hemline. The way your hardened nipples peak through the fabric and the outline of your breasts shows through it – he can never get over that image. Certain way to get him to push you against a wall in three seconds or less.(And it will stay on during the sex, so he can smell you and what the two of you did later on.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Do we even need to answer this? He knows every damn trick in the book and he’s very creative and eager to show off and teach you.

But: Doing all this with someone he really loves? With someone he desires so deeply it threatens to melt him from the inside? That’s a whole new plane of existence he never even though existed.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

“Again, darling, you can’t possibly make me pick just one. Because when you’re under me I can see your face when I’m deep inside you. I can watch your eyes roll back and how your lips soundlessly form my name and your legs wrapped around my hips can slowly drive me insane. But when you’re on top of me I feel like you’re a goddess gracing me with your blessing. And when you’re on all fours and I’m above you, I can feel the tension in your whole body, how you desperately use every inch of space to get more friction and look at your pretty little back arch while I grip onto your thighs.”

Enough said, isn’t it?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s probably way too used to putting up the perfect performance in the beginning. But he slowly learns that being intimate means so much more: that it means being so deeply comfortable with each other, each other’s body and mentally, emotionally, that’s not about perfection at all. And that it can be so joyful if someone cracks a joke in the middle of the act because somehow the moan Tav let out sounded like a dying squirrel. Or because Astarion butchered his cheesy line because you’re driving way beyond mad with the way your hips roll.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Elves have little to no body hair so there’s not much to take care of. The little hair that might exist just stays and is neatly groomed just like the whole man.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Astarion opening up in these moments is one of the most beautiful things. Because he slowly learns to experience real intimacy. He’s slowly fully there with you: it’s not an act anymore. His hands linger now on your soft, warm skin, his kisses become more passionate and never ending, his eyes burn with desire but mostly with love. And he makes sure to tell you: tells you how much he loves you, praises every inch of your body. His heart is so wide open when he gets there, he’s so ready to be loved and to give love – being amplified by the fact that he’d never even dared to believe he’d be allowed to feel something like this.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t really – because why when he has you at his fingertips. Although if you had to be away for a little while he might find he’s craving you way more than anything else. And when he’s sitting soaking in the tub and he’s reminded of how you look getting out of the tub, streams of water glistening on your body – he finds himself pleasuring himself thinking about how it will be once you’re back with him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hmm yes, the thing with blood. Drinking from you while being in the middle of the act – yeah, you kinda both enjoy that quite a bit.

But also it’s such a massive turn on for him if you give yourself to him completely. The fact that you’re trusting him this much is driving him almost insane.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Oh, it could happen anywhere at any time.

Your enormous bed is your favourite place by far though. After all this safe space of coziness is just where you can completely intimate with each other in any kind of way. But Astarion for sure has to test every surface in the house with you – at least once. Okay, maybe twice for good measure.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just you literally doing anything. Once he realises he’s in love with you, he’s fallen and can’t get up. You’re angry at him – woah, the look you throw him takes his breath away. The way you bite your lip when you’re concentrating on something – he wants to put his lips on yours immediately.

And let’s not even talk about when you try to deliberately turn him on. You wearing something naughty just for him? You very purposefully letting your hands wander and linger just a little too much for it to be innocent?

“Love, either you keep these naughty little hands to yourself or you’ll put them right there right now and finish the godsdamned job”, Astarion whispers huskily and grabs one of your hands, deliberately placing it on the growing bulge between his legs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If he ever felt used in that way again he’s been put through for way too long – he will NEVER do that again.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Astarion very much enjoys giving head, because the way your thighs press around his head while he can feel you shiver and the way the pitch of your moans rise – hmm, delicious.

He hasn’t been receiving quite that often so he’s not particularly fond of it, until – it’s you and he realises how wonderful you look with your lips wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the mood. There’s certainly not just the one way with Astarion. He can be so incredibly sweet and tender, touches like feathers. But another time it might be he has you up against a wall and it’s all about carnal lust – making it rough and quick. But he certainly always makes sure it’s pleasant for the both of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As much as Astarion enjoys spending whole nights (or days) with you under his hands (or the other way around), he wouldn’t say no to just quickly bending you over the kitchen table to give you a sweet little reminder why it is that you can’t get enough of him – ever.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experimenting, yes? He likes to show you new things, but he’d never put you in any danger and making sure you’re one hundred percent comfortable with what’s happening is always his top priority.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No matter what you can’t possibly keep up with him. And he teases you about it (affectionately): “Aww love, I was just getting started. We didn’t even get to the real fun parts.” You just glared him, being too out of breath to put anything you wanted to verbally hurl at him into words.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only things he needs really is you and himself. Although something like tying you up against the bed sometimes? Covering your eyes? But for the most part he enjoys completely uninterrupted body contact the most – and that by far doesn’t have too mean it’s always sweet and soft. Those long and elegant fingers have much expertise with sleight of hand and they don’t call it silver tongue for nothing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, an awful lot. Astarion is the definition of a tease. But in his defence: he also takes delight in being teased back. It’s no fun if you don’t claw back. And bickering and teasing a lot is definitely your specific kind of foreplay.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Astarion’s quite verbal – especially since he’s discovering new heights of pleasure with his loved one. Groaning and moaning – especially your name or praises for you. Also he does not care if he’s loud – he’ll proudly let the whole world now how much he desires you (much to the displeasure of you and your party members, oops).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It’s Astarion absolute specialty to make you flustered in public. Once he’s found you get these delightful full body blushes he makes it his goals to tease you at the most inappropriate times. You hate him and you love him for it – this smug bastard. He just knows how to push your buttons way too well.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s hot alright. He most definitely has those muscles for vanity reasons and thankfully vampirism made sure he’s keeping those abs no matter how much of a domestic softie he’s gotten with you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High – especially in the beginning. Once he’s free to enjoy his own desires at his own pace there will most definitely be this high-demand honeymoon phase. You’re both not quite sure it will always really end (and you surely hope not).

But: it’s also important for Astarion that he’s getting more confident to maybe just not be in the mood every single time. Just like you aren’t always, too. And that’s completely fine, you assure him time and time again that you’ll never want him to indulge you just because he feels an obligation.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You can sleep when you’re dead. There’s way too much stuff to be done after: maybe another round (or more), cuddle, talk, goof around, down a bottle of wine.

Although slowly drifting into sleep after being fully satisfied and full of love and warmth: that’s definitely the best way to end a night.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Mine to Protect Part III

@thetrueghostqueen Thank you so much for your wonderful request for the birthday prompts! I truly hope you enjoyed the story! Even though it turned out pretty big 😅

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4408

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Final part everyone. I hope you enjoyed this! It really wasn't supposed to be so big... but then there were so many little moments I wanted to include... Thank you for reading!

Part 3 of 3

|Part 1| | |Part 2| | |Masterlist|

You avoid the wedding conversation with your father like the plague, but you chase Kid’s company like a hunter tracking deer through the glens. More than once, he tumbles into your sheets –sometimes you don’t even make it that far. He has you against doors, walls, on the ground, under the shade of trees, anywhere –everywhere!

You now know the shape and contour of all his scars and muscles. The way they ripple as he uses them to handle your body effortlessly, the way they tense when he’s lost at the edge, spilling his release into you, or the way they soften as you search for the warmth of his embrace afterwards. 

He’s told you about many of the scars. He’s even told you how his left arm was rendered almost useless during battle. He has opened up to you, and you to him, sharing all your worries over your people, sharing how you’ve lost your brother to brigands when you were young and vowed not to be a helpless noble girl –he assures you, you’re not.

Things happen easily between you and Kid, even though you still disagree on many things and keep fighting like cats and dogs. Most of those fights end the same, with both of you lost in a mess of tangled limbs. 

You’ve fallen.

So hard it hurts. And it’s scary as hell in more ways than one. Not only do you not know if Kid feels the same for you, but you also don’t want your heart and emotions to be so tied to a single person. Because, at this moment, it feels like you might die if something happens to Kid. 

You can’t hold back that conversation anymore, so it takes a particularly cold night –a bit warmer now that you and Kid have exercised– when you’re lost in his embrace, to peel the words from your lips.

Kid’s arm grips you, his hand securing you tightly by the waist, and you absentmindedly realise that he never holds you differently. It’s always with strength, a fierce claim, or a desperate need to protect. Your fingers trace the scar on his chest, as you usually do, and that always brings a soft smile to his lips as he relaxes his breathing.

After a while, he speaks. “Yer awfully quiet today. Ye must tell me what I did tae get ye tae shut up.” He chuckles. “I might need that information for other nights.”

But you don’t reply. Not with a chuckle, nor with a witty response as he was expecting you to. 

“Lass?” He opens his eyes and lifts your chin with his fingers to inspect your face, and you sigh. 

“What are we, Kid?” The fear of his answer grips your heart in its clutches holding it ransom. 

“What do ye mean?”

Sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed, you lock your gaze with his. “This, us. What are we?” You gesture between your bodies, impatience oozing from your pores. 

Kid sits up as well, running a hand through his fiery, slightly damp hair. “Lass… we… we’re us.” He shrugs, and you sigh again. Talking about feelings with Kid is like pulling a sword from solid rock. Clearly, he senses that you’re upset, because he tries again. “I care for ye.”

“I know that.”

“Good. So, that’s it.” He reaches for you, but you swat his hand away. 

“Is that all? You care?”

“We have fun, aye, lass?” He smirks at you, trying to lighten the mood, but he’s not even inching closer to where you want him to be. 

“Aye. Fun. You care, and we have fun. That’s all there is, right?”

Kid tenses, and the ticking in his jaw alerts you that he’s finally taking this seriously. “There cannae be anythin’ else, can there? Yer a noble lady, I’m a hired sword.”

You nod. In your head, you know that, technically there can’t be anything more, but in your heart, there are infinite possibilities. What you wanted to hear from him is that he more than cares, that he is willing to fight for both of you. You want to hear him say that he’s fallen for you too. You don’t expect him to be romantic, he was right all those nights ago, you don’t need to be sweet-talked. But you want something real. 

“Is that what ye wanted to hear? That we’re nae good tae each other? That we cannae work?” He slams a fist on the bed, and you know he’s not angry at you, really, it’s at the situation. 

“No, Kid. What I wanted to hear was a bit of fight in you.” You get up, pull your dress over your head, and your feet through your boots. “Because you fight so hard to protect me from outside threats, when the biggest threat to my heart is right here in my room.”

The hurt in his expression is a mirror of your own as you make your way to the door. But it’s not over yet. There’s something else you need to tell him and this was why you asked him what you were. To see if you and he were worth fighting for. 

Your hand hovers the doorknob and you don’t look back at him as you deliver the news. “My father has chosen a suitor to marry me. I have no say in the matter. We are to be married within a month.”

As tears fill your eyes, you leave the room without looking back, not knowing what Kid feels about the news or if he’s as devastated as you are.

-*-

You will never know how he felt about the news you delivered, because by morning, he’s gone. Just gone, without a trace, without a goodbye, without a word. Why does your chest ache so much when he took your heart with him?

Your father merely assigns another guard to you, but since you’ll be married within a month –securing a formidable war alliance that comes with soldiers and money– and leaving his house, he simply assigns one of his personal guards to shadow you.

This guard is quiet, slow, and an idiot. You lose him on the first try. 

Though you don’t wander too far alone. The streets are growing more dangerous, and this guard isn’t Kid. You don’t trust him to find you anywhere and everywhere, as if you were connected by more than duty. 

You refuse to cry.

You know you have many, many tears to shed, but you gave yourself one night to do it. The night he left you, and that was it. No more tears, no more broken heart. And though it all seems easier said than done, you manage slightly. 

You set up a food delivery system with some of the citizens on the keep’s grounds, so you can be safer and still help them, and this has kept your mind and hands occupied. But the end of the month approaches, and so does your wedding. 

You can’t stop thinking about Kid and how he makes you feel and it’s nearly impossible to think of giving yourself to another man. Be it body or soul. You’re Kid’s. And that’s it.

Days without him seem colder and drag on slower than before. Training doesn't feel the same, and every time you lie in bed you still feel the ghost of his arms wrapped around you. You've found yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once, hoping he's there, just around the corner, with his scowl in place, a witty remark at hand, or a biting word. 

But he's not. 

And so, you tread on, day by day, night by night, forcing your heart to harden, to stop caring, to just let him go. 

Until you feel him. It's that prickling sensation at the nape of your neck, the tingling that bristles your hairs and almost stops your heart. This time, when you glance over your shoulder, he's really there, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to run to him and jump into his arms. 

Gods, you've missed him. 

He looks… haggard. His hair is duller, matted and dirty, there's dried blood on his skin and clothes –you're too scared to ask him if it's his, so you don’t– and there's darkness in his eyes, so much darkness. 

“Kid…” You barely utter, your heart too shattered to let your mouth part with any more words, lest he take them as ransom and use them against you. 

“Forgive me, lass. I've been gone longer than I meant, aye?” His voice seems drained. He looks exhausted, and you want nothing more than to scream at him for leaving you without a single word, for making you suffer beyond human understanding. But none of what you feel matters when he looks ready to drop dead from exhaustion at any second. So you drag him into your quarters and draw him a warm bath without uttering another word. 

He sits in the tub as you pour warm water over him, loosening the grime and blood so he can scrub it off. You don't speak. You're too afraid that the first words out of your mouth will be angry and accusing, and now’s not the time to fight. For what it's worth, he doesn't speak either. Whether he's respecting your silence or simply too tired, is anyone's guess. 

When the water rises enough for a comfortable bath, you wet the cloth and hand it to Kid, but he doesn't make a move to take it. His eyes are droopy, and his head lolls back and forth until he finally leans it against the rim of the tub with a groan and a grunt. 

You sigh as your heart clenches, and you kneel beside him, running the wet cloth over his arms first, scrubbing off the caked mud, blood, and whatever else he dragged on him from wherever he was. When you reach his hand, his fingers curl slightly, seeking your touch, trying to hold you and you give everything to stop your tears from falling. 

Gods, how you love this man. 

He slumbers for a bit as you clean most of the grime off, but when you reach his chest and your hands find the familiar scars, his eyes slowly open, watching you. You're frowning pretending not to notice him observing you, but you grumble something unintelligible when you find three new scars –badly healed– on his torso. 

“Where did you go…?” The question slips from your lips against your will in a quiet whisper. You're not even sure if he heard you or if he'll answer. 

“Behind enemy lines, tae the north.”

The cloth slips from your hand, and you fumble to secure it again, your mouth open as wide as your eyes. “Beyond the borders? Into enemy territory? Kid! You could’ve died!”

His smirk barely curves his lips, but it's there. “Would've been worth it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You growl, scrubbing harder and making him wince. 

“Ah, I've missed that filthy tongue, lass.” How can your heart warm at such words when you want nothing more than to yell at him for having left you? “I got what I went in for.” He dips his head back into the water, using his hands to try and comb through his matted hair. When he rises out of the water, his exhausted gaze falls on you, waiting for your questions. 

“What did you go in for?”

“Information. War information that’ll make the clans turn tae yer da’s side without ye havin’ tae marry.” A chill runs through you as you stare at him. Is he serious? Has he risked his life just to get you out of an arranged marriage? Does that mean… does he love you back? Are you more than just ‘fun’? 

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to make your tongue work past the dry, sand-like feeling in your mouth. “You still left me behind, without a word or a goodbye. Without a warning. I was alone!” The sigh that parts your lips is filled with sorrow and resignation. “We'll speak about this after you rest, you're in no condition to argue.”

He chuckles as you force him to lean forward –with a harder shove than you should– so you can clean his back. “Oh, but I've missed arguin’ with ye.” You purse your lips, drawing back an angry snarl that only makes him chuckle again. “Think about it. Would ye’ve let me leave if I told ya my plan?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, I would've left just the same, but ye would've tried tae stop me. Or worse, ye would've wanted tae go with me. It was better this way.”

“Better for whom? Because I was left thinking you'd abandoned me, right after I poured my heart out to you!”

Kid's face falls again. “Better than tae worry about me. If I died, at least ye could've forgotten me if ye hated me. It would've been a lot harder tae forget me if ye still cared.”

I still care. 

You think the words, but you don't say them. Instead, you hand him the cloth. “Finish up, Kid. I'll go grab you some clothes from your old room. It hasn't been touched.”

-*-

When you return he's clean and dry, a  towel wrapped around his waist, and you lower your gaze before you get lost in the body you know so well. Handing him the shirt and breeches, you return to your room, waiting for him with a tray of food and ale, so he eats and rests, because he looks like shit. 

He follows you wordlessly after getting dressed and eats the food ravenously, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he last ate. By the time he finishes, he looks ready to fall down again. You lead him to your bed, setting him down in the place he's slept more times than you can count, and securing the blankets around him. As Kid closes his eyes, you sigh, turning to leave, but his arm loops around your waist, and he drags you to bed, your back firmly against his chest, as he pulls you closer and drapes the covers over you too. 

“Kid…” You start to protest. He needs rest and you don't trust your heart enough to be this close to him and not break. He still hasn't told you how he truly feels. He said he missed your remarks and arguing with you, but he didn't say he missed you. 

“Stay.” His voice sounds hoarse and pained as he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his head in your hair, inhaling your scent in deep breaths. 

You relax in his hold. It's not like you want to leave anyway. You've never felt safer than in Kid's arms, you're just not sure if you feel loved. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, lass.” The whisper of his words kisses the back of your neck in warm breaths, and your heart clenches. “I'm shite with words and feelings, ye know that… but… dinnae think for a minute that I left because I dinnae care. I left because I do care.”

He's still not saying it. 

“I know you care, Kid.” You sound weary and resigned. Perhaps you're asking too much. It's obvious he cares deeply, or he would've never gone to the lengths he did for you. 

“It's more than that.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice as he forces the words out. “I knew I could never fall for ye. I'm a guard, yer a noble lady. How could I… love ye if I'm no’ worthy? Yer da would hang me for ever touchin’ ye…” His chuckle is just a rumble against your back. “If he knew how much I've touched ye, my head would roll.”

You hold back a smirk. All your life you've defied your father and his rules. Kid would never be the exception. 

“But I've come tae realise that I cannae live without ye, nor do I want tae.” He sighs and rolls you, motioning for you to turn to him, so you do. Your cheeks are hot and flushed and your heart is hammering violently against your chest. His fiery eyes are droopy and tired, filled with so much exhaustion that is physically noticeable. But he needs to get his words out. His fingers tilt your chin so he can stare right into your eyes. “I've realised that if lovin’ ye is a risk, then I'm ready tae bet everythin’. And that's why I had tae go. Because I love ye.”

A ragged sob breaks through your defences and tears down the dam you've built to hold your tears in since Kid’s return. Tears spill from your eyes in fat droplets as Kid pulls you to his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, comforting you, cradling you. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. 

He's said it all. 

You spill all the tears you vowed not to cry when he left, all the pent-up emotions that you’d stored safely away in a dark corner of your heart come crashing down with the force of a tidal wave, destroying everything in their path. And Kid holds you through it all. Your lifeline, your anchor, your everything. 

He doesn't utter any more words, and he's right, you know he's shit with feelings. But his actions have always spoken much louder than words. He holds you tightly, clearly fending off all the exhaustion in his weary bones just to comfort you. His lips press softly against the crown of your head, again and again, in an endless torrent of kisses, like he can't get enough of you. His hand rubs your back up and down in soothing motions as your heart explodes from all this love. It's overwhelming, overpowering and somehow, still not enough. 

Eventually, you pull back from him, tilting your head upwards and watching him through wet lashes. “Gods, Kid. I love you too. So much. So, so much.” The warmth in his gaze overpowers the tiredness as he lowers his face, mouth hovering just above yours. “Yer mine.” His words are a claim and he delivers them softly, like a man who is sure of what he's saying. 

“I'm yours.” 

With the softest of grunts you've ever heard him release, Kid takes your lips in his. You melt into him, this kiss insurmountably different from all the others you've shared. It's soft, steady, and tender. It's not filled with brimming, raging fire or fueled by desire. It's intimate and filled with promises. It's perfect. 

When you both pull back, he cups your cheek and rests his forehead against yours, eyes hooded as exhaustion finally overtakes him. “Stay with me.”

“Aye, Kid.” You don't really know if he asked you to stay the night or to stay forever, but it doesn't really matter when the answer to the question is the same, right? 

-*-

As dawn approaches, you leave Kid to rest in your bed as you get changed and ready. Then you gather the papers Kid brought with him, the valuable information about the war front and you grimace. The papers are bloodied and dirty, a testament to what he's been through, but they are readable. In fact, it serves the purpose best like this, so your father can understand what he's endured. 

You march into your father's quarters, and his guards have the gall to try to stop you from entering. “Either of you touch me, and you'll meet my wrath.” Your fiery reputation is well known in the keep and after exchanging glances, the guards step aside. With a deep breath, you burst into the war room where your father and his advisors are already gathered, though they seem to be discussing how juicy a piece of boar meat is, instead of actual war business. They startle at the noise of the door banging, and you stride towards your father with pursed lips and purposeful steps, daring anyone to stop you. 

Nobody does. 

“Here.” You shove the plate of meat aside –almost dropping it on the floor– and slam the papers in front of your father with a loud bang. “You'll be interested in these, Father.” You watch as he cleans his greasy fingers on his cloak and picks up the parchment, curiosity lighting his eyes. 

You have to suppress a grin when his eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise. “This… how? This information can change the war… it can bring us the support we need. This is vital.”

The advisors look at your father, then at you, also filled with curiosity. “Aye, Father. That information can sway the clans to your side and bring you the numbers you need to finish this. All without me having to marry.”

A triumphant smirk curls the corner of your lips as all the men gathered around the table begin talking with one another, discussing outcomes and probabilities, finally forgetting the food and actually delving into war business. Your father passes the bundle of papers to the advisor on his right and pins you with his stare.

“How did you get these?”

“Remember Eustass Kid?” You can’t help the way your voice softens at the mere mention of him.

“Aye, the sword I hired to protect you. The guard at the entrance reported that he returned yesterday. Was it him?” He seems incredulous. 

“Aye. He risked his neck for that.”

Your father scratches his chin, the weight of what Kid did hanging heavily on his shoulders. You’re pretty sure he’s already considering how much gold he can be parted with to compensate him. But you’re about to help him solve that problem.

“I will not marry the laird.” You state. You don’t ask, you simply inform your father of your decision because you know he cannot deny you that, not when he doesn’t need a marriage alliance anymore. 

“Fine. I barely know how I convinced you the first time. You’re free, lass, to do whatever you want.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, but you don’t let your nerves show. Not now, when you’re so close. “But I want to marry, Father. Just not him.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he returns his gaze to a paper that wandered back into his hand, looking as though he has more important matters to discuss than your marriage. And he does, and this reminds you of all the headaches you’ve brought upon him, all the troubles you’ve stirred up while growing up. You know you were not an easy daughter, but you know your father loves you, in his own way. 

“Who, then?” 

“Kid.”

He lifts his eyes from the parchment in front of him to stare you down again. “The hired sword? Not a laird?”

You nod. Your throat suddenly feels too tight to squeeze any words through. 

“Impossible. You’re noble, and he’s… not. I was willing to grant you a marriage of your choosing, but I thought you wanted someone of your standing.”

You knew this was coming, so you take a deep, calming breath. “What I want, Father, is someone who fights for me, someone who is willing to go behind enemy lines and risk his neck for me. Someone who loves me so much, that he’d burn down the world for me, if only I asked. He has proven his dedication to me –and to you– a hundred times over.”

“He’s just a mercenary” Your father’s voice rises, and the room stills. “You need a leader by your side! Someone who knows the people and how to lead, not just fight!”

You place your hands on your hips to hide the trembling in them. “I know the people well enough for the both of us. I love the people more than anyone in this room.” Your voice starts to rise with each word. “Gods, I’ve done more for the people and the land than any of you combined! For once, just for once, Father, let someone love me! I deserve to be happy, too!”

Your father stays silent for a moment, his throat bobbing up and down as his thick brows furrow in deep thought. His eyes scan the information laid before him again, as if weighing everything he has and what he’s willing to lose. 

“Very well. You can marry him, if that’s what you truly want.”

-*-

You barely make it past the hallway outside the war room before you feel a familiar prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Kid’s waiting for you. He looks better, more like himself, but there’s still weariness in his eyes and a sort of darkness in them that can only come from claiming someone else’s life –and gods know he’s done enough of that for a lifetime.

“Lass, I knew ye’d be with yer da.” His gaze softens, however, when you meet. “Did he call the weddin’ off?” The hope in his voice mirrors the one that fills your heart.

“I’m still marrying.” 

“The fuck ye are! He lays one finger in yer direction, and he’s dead. I’ll fuckin’ kill him and his entire clan if I have tae! Fuck! I’ll just grab ye and we’ll run. I dinnae care where–”

“Kid!” You take one step towards him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his feelings. Placing your palms on his heaving chest, you look into his eyes with nothing but love. “You would really burn down the whole world for me, wouldn’t you?”

His hand brushes your cheek gently, a contrast to the beast of a man he is. “Just say the words, lass. I’ll do it.”

“I’m marrying you, you insufferable man. There’s only you.”

He lets out a string of curses in his thick brogue, and you barely understand a word, though you know they’re all directed at you. “Ye wanna kill me. I already knew ye wanted me dead, lass!” Then he weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls you closer, lowering his face until his lips hover over yours. “Damn brat.”

“I love you, Kid.”

“Aye. Me too. Ye’re mine, always.”

“And you’re mine.”

The smile on his lips mirrors your own as they touch again in that soft, gentle dance you’ve come to know as love. 

THE END

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @takamimami

[hyunjilicious]

in human form [bang chan × f!reader]

A/n: this is very, very self indulgent. I always try to make my fics reader inclusive, but since I poured my soul out in this, it's not 100% a self insert. It's not OC either, but some aspects of Y/n past are mentioned - mental health and relationship with her parents. I hope you'll still enjoy it! 🥺

Summary: fresh out of a toxic relationship, you realise your best friend Chan might not be just that, your best friend. Angst (and fluffy and extremely cheesy) best friends to lovers trope. 8.5k (hit me)

Warnings: y/n's ex was toxic, so was her father, mentions of alcoholism (as the source of some of the issues), anxiety, insecurities, past traumatic experiences (not detailed). It's not as sad as I may have made it sound, Chan's a sweetheart and there for you from beginning to end ❤️

For the first time that night, when you felt a hand against your back, you relaxed. "Do you want me to drive you home?" Chan asked, leaning into your side so you could hear him over the loud music at the club.

Aside from the hand that still rested between your shoulder blades, he kept his distance. 

"No, it's fine, thanks" you shook your head but then smiled in appreciation. "I'll take a cab, you don't have to leave"

"Do you want to talk to me?" 

Another offer he didn't have to make - another one you desperately wanted to accept but felt like an asshole doing so.

"I'm annoyed. I don't want to start this right now. We can talk another time"

"I'm here for you" he reminded you, "Please, just let me take you home."

"You don't feel like dancing anymore?"

Chan shook his head. He never felt like dancing in the first place, only came so that he could spend some time with you, but unfortunately the night didn't go as planned. 

"I don't want to ruin your night"

"You're not ruining my night, Y/n" Chan said sternly, "I want to go home too"

"Then why didn't you leave earlier?"

That, he couldn't answer. He knew why, but he couldn't really tell you that the pain you've been struggling to hide has been obvious to him from the very beginning. Instead, he hid his worry behind little acts of kindness, reassuring words and unconditional support, without expecting anything in return. Much like he did now.

"Felt like a party pooper, but you're my ticket out of here. So? Should we go?"

You were unsatisfied with his answer, felt guilty for the way things were going, but you weren't about to make him ask again. "Ok, let's go"

His face lit up hearing your words, it felt like a win which he hoped would be the end of the story, considering that the last time he thought this nightmare was over, this night happened. So, determined to not allow the universe to mess with you again, Chan took a step to the side and motioned for you to lead the way towards the exit. 

And you would've done just that had an overwhelming sense of pain and warmth not washed over you, and instead of moving, you just went in for a hug. Despite being taken aback, Chan wrapped his arms around you instantly, repeatedly kissing the top of your head during the few seconds you spent pressed against one another. 

"Thanks" you mumbled, wiping away a stray tear that fell down your cheek as you pulled away. 

"You don't need to thank-" he began saying but before he could finish the sentence, you felt another hand against your back, one that sent chills down your spine. 

As if burned by the touch, you jumped away and didn't even bother looking at the person before you grabbed Chan's hand and tried to pull him away. 

"Hey, where the fuck do you think you're going?" the menacing tone of your exboyfriend called over the loud music. Even though he wasn't drunk enough to have trouble articulating his sentences, you could still hear the alcohol induced hostility in his tone. 

And as if raising his voice at you wasn't enough, in the blink of an eye he also went to grab you, but even though you were fast enough to step out of his reach, so was Chan as he grabbed the man's wrist and pushed himself between the two of you. 

"Hey, hey, hey! Step back" Chan commanded, not one single hint of uncertainty in his tone. 

"Why?" your ex boyfriend sneered, "Need her?"

Even though a vein was about to burst on his forehead, Chan fought to keep his composure. "Let's not make a scene, ok? Y/n's going home and you're going back to the party. Let's just leave it at that"

"How about this?" he slapped his hands together, "How about you stop sticking your nose in my business and let me have a talk with her?"

"We really don't have anything to talk about, ok?" you tried, but he wasn't having it. 

"Just because we broke up doesn't mean you can go whore around. At least wait a while before you hop on someone else's dick. Or wait! You've done it before, haven't you?" he turned to Chan. "You already fucked her, didn't you? You're the reason she broke up with me?"

"Man, you have no idea what you're saying" Chan rolled his eyes, "But why don't we have this talk another time, huh? This is really not the time and place"

"I agree. So why don't you just step away so I can talk to Y/n?"

"Talk to her?" Chan laughed, "Mate, don't even look at her"

That angered him - you saw it in his eyes and it terrified you. That look of his whenever he had enough to drink so that common sense didn't have a place in his behavior anymore, when limits stopped meaning anything and only his words mattered. 

Under different circumstances, you'd have said this wasn't something you'd ever do, but you felt afraid - viscerally, down to your bones scared, and without thinking, you jumped behind Chan. And while on high alert as he was, even though he might have not seen you, he felt you, the way your hands gripped his shirt and it brought a storm inside his mind. He didn't know what he wanted to do first, break that man's teeth or comfort you, but his adrenaline had kicked in and all that he could focus on was keeping his calm.

"Listen, I've got nothing against you, man. It's her that I need-" and his sentence was cut short by a very calm Seungmin, who with his drink in his hand and the straw between his lips, stepped in between your ex boyfriend and Chan.

"The group's over there" Seungmin addressed the man - fully facing him, and pointed in the direction you just came from, "Why are you all the way over here?"

"Yeah" Felix, who you hadn't noticed until now, nodded along, "We were thinking about going to a different club but we couldn't find you"

They stepped closer to one another, forming a wall between you, Chan and your ex, and bombarded him with questions, pointing in all directions and speaking loudly one over the other. 

There had been maybe one or two attempts from your ex to push past them, but before he managed to escape their pestering, Chan had already grabbed your hand and ushered you towards the exit. 

"Hey, are you ok? What are you doing?" he desperately asked as soon as you stepped on the sidewalk. Seeing you with your nose buried into your phone was the last thing he expected.

"I'm texting Felix and Seungmin" you sniffled, "I hope he didn't start a fight"

"They got this, Y/n, it's ok" Chan said and then tried to get you to move. "Let's go to the car, ok?"

After wiping one more tear from your cheek and pressing the send button on the text you just wrote, you nodded and followed him, "Yeah, ok"

Despite the hurricane of thoughts inside your mind, for most of the drive, you were silent - wanting to say so many things but at the same time, fearing what it would feel like if you yourself were to hear those things being spoken out loud, let alone Chan. 

After your phone buzzed with a new notification, you turned to him, "They got him an uber. He's on his way home"

"Good" Chan nodded and drummed his thumb against the steering wheel. "Fuck him"

"Yeah.. fuck him"

"Are you ok?"

At this hour of the night, the roads were empty enough to allow Chan to steal glances and turn to you, but still you were grateful he was driving - he couldn't fix you with his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine"

"Fine as in fine or fine as in fine?"

You really didn't want to do it, but his question made you giggle. "What? I really am ok, I'm just annoyed"

He looked at you for another second, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what? Complain to you about how big of an asshole he was and about how stupid I am? Where's that gonna get me?"

"First of all, you're not stupid. At all, Y/n. You know that"

"My actions and decisions over the past few months would beg to differ, Chan." you sighed, "It's not his fault he was a piece of shit boyfriend to me, it's my fault I stayed in that relationship for as long as I did"

Too many words, some even a bit aggressive and thoughtless, almost rushed past his lips, but he managed to compose himself with a shake of his head and a deep breath. "I really don't want to be that person, Y/n, but you know traumatic experiences don't necessarily involve heavy and obvious shit. You've never been through something like this before, how were you supposed to know what the right thing to do was? You really did your best with what you had"

"Stop. You're making it sound like I'm some sort of victim or something. There's no trauma. He was never violent, never raised his hand at me or anything, it's not that serious"

"A person doesn't have to be physically violent in order to be abusive"

"He wasn't abusive. Just… toxic. It wasn't that big of a deal"

"If it wasn't that big of a deal, why are you so upset with yourself for being, as you say, stupid about it?"

Ah fuck, a red light. It wasn't like the intersection was that busy anyway, and it got you very close to offering to pay the fine only so that he'd keep driving. But his eyes were already on you, ready to pierce right into your soul the second you met them. 

"What do you want me to say?" you looked down at the bag in your lap. "I don't see where you're going with this"

"I want you to stop being angry at yourself. To stop blaming yourself. To realize you were not the problem. That's all I want"

"If that's really the right way to look at things, it's gonna take me a long fucking while" you chuckled bitterly, tone full of spite and anger. 

But still, Chan's voice was as calm and sweet as ever. "And I'll be here for you until then. And after. Ok?"

You really had no right to be this cold to him. "Look at you being so wise and selfless. Try telling me again that I'm not just a stupid girl who needs looking after"

"Y/n, if the roles were reversed, would you think I was stupid? Would you defend the person that repeatedly hurt me?"

"I'm not defending him"

"That's exactly what you're doing by putting all the blame on your own shoulders. I'm not saying you should crucify him, although I would, all I'm saying is that you shouldn't carry this weight. If he refuses to own up to his shit and try to do better, that's on him, but you shouldn't be the one to take responsibility for this just because he won't do it"

Although the things he was saying made sense from the very beginning, it was getting harder and harder for you to keep up with the conversation. A short period of silence followed where you didn't know what to say, but your ticket out of this tensioned position came at the perfect time.

"Light's green" you said and pointed to the traffic lights after seeing Chan make no effort to start the car.

He blinked for a second, looked in the rear view mirror and then turned to you again, "There's no one behind, it's fine"

"Chan! Drive"

"Y/n, look at me"

There was a very strong reason you avoided his stare during this whole car ride, and it was getting harder and harder to manage your emotions. "I can't"

"Why?" his voice broke a little "It's just me, Y/n, it's ok"

You squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back, "Please, I don't want to start crying right now, just start the car. Just drive"

And he did. He wordlessly followed your request and drove in silence for as long as he could, but when he reached the intersection next to your neighborhood and had to stop at another red light, he couldn't help himself. "Y/n, do you want to be alone right now?"

"I don't want to continue that conversation" 

"It's not what I asked," Chan softly said. "I won't bug you, I promise. But I'm here if you just… don't want to be alone at home"

"Are you sure it's ok?"

"Of course, I wouldn't have offered if it wasn't"

"You totally would've" you weakly laughed, "You always put other people first."

He didn't know how to tell you that it was you who he was putting first - not other people. Sure, he cared about his friends, but he wasn't doing this because he was a caring person, he was doing this because he cared about you. And on top of that, he hoped that this night he was about to spend with you would be the first one on a long, maybe endless, list of things he planned on doing in order to make sure that you finally realized that, even if you hadn't seen it before, to some, to him, you really did come first. 

After that, Chan offered to go to the drive through two blocks away for some food, but the laziness prevailed. You wanted to get home faster and weren't about to let him go by himself, so as he searched for a parking spot behind your building, you tapped in the order on your phone and placed it before entering your apartment.

While the atmosphere was still somewhat tense, you two managed to enjoy the food and down two liters of tea without any upsetting topic being brought up. 

By the time you decided to head to bed, it was already half past 4. And if Chan had to insist on taking the couch, you also insisted on making it as cozy for him as possible, bringing him 3 different blankets, 4 pillows and an army of stuffed animals to keep him company. 

But while fatigue had already crept up your spine and made your eyelids feel heavy, sleep only circled around you and refused to settle. It was your buzzing mind and hurricane of thoughts that kept the sleep at a safe distance, and it was just a matter of time until you had to get out of bed.

This was why you insisted he took your room, so that now, when you wanted to go into the kitchen, you wouldn't have to walk past him. But since there was nothing to be done about it now, you settled for tiptoeing your way to the sink, filling up a glass of water and downing it in the blink of an eye.

Truth be told, you wanted another tea, but the sound of the boiling water would for sure wake Chan up. Maybe a pudding would do, you thought to yourself as you licked the lid before throwing it into the trash. It was good, your favorite - no surprise since you were the one who bought it, but it didn't do much. Chips? Nah, and even if you wanted some, you forgot to get a new bag anyway. Then.. fruit? But after tea and pudding? Also a no. 

It was getting annoying - nothing to keep you busy so you wouldn't have to return to your room. The one obvious option that was left made you cringe. You wouldn't do that, he had been so nice to you all night, it would be very shitty of you to disturb his sleep. Or maybe… he had been so sweet to you all night, he definitely wouldn't mind being sweet a bit more, right?

So without giving yourself the chance to change your mind, you took off towards the couch, your eyes fixed on his sleeping - or not, frame. The way he raised his arm, along with the blanket, almost startled you.

"Come here" he chuckled, before even looking at you.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nope, I wasn't sleeping" he said and then waved his arm in the air, "Come on"

Your first instinct was again to ask if he was sure about it, but you brushed it off and climbed in beside him, cuddling against his chest as he wrapped his arm around your frame, covering you with the blanket all the way up to your cheeks.

"Thank you" you said, all your muscles relaxing under the warmth of his body pressed to yours. "I'm sorry I was mean to you earlier"

"You weren't mean to me" he shook his head. As a small but strong reassuring gesture, his fingers made their way to the back of your neck and lost themselves in your hair. He lightly scratched your scalp as he spoke. "The conversation wasn't pleasant so you just weren't as bubbly as usual, that's normal. You weren't mean to me, Y/n, don't worry"

"I really wasn't the nicest though"

"You don't have to be the nicest with everyone all the time"

"Not with everyone, with you. You have the biggest heart in the world, I don't ever want to upset it"

"That's ok" Chan hummed, kissing the top of your head, "She understands, you didn't upset her."

"Your heart is a she?" you giggled.

He wasn't going to say that his heart was a she because you were his whole heart - that would've been cheesy, but it was late and the love of his life was wrapped around him, so he didn't judge himself for it, just brushed the thought aside. "I don't know why I said she," he lightly chuckled, "It felt right, I guess?"

Without saying anything, you cuddled closer so that you could press your ear against the left side of his chest. He felt calm around you, but his heart drummed against your cheek and it made you feel closer to him and safer than ever, "Thank you"

"Anything for you" Chan hummed, allowing the both of you to finally relax enough to be able to fall asleep. 

The next morning came and went, neither of you showing any signs of planning to wake up any time soon. A little bit past noon however, maybe around 1pm, Chan started stirring in his sleep. When he opened his eyes and checked his phone, the urge to just say fuck it and remain in your soft embrace almost won. But he had another thing on his mind, probably the only thing in the world that could've ever gotten him to leave that couch. 

For a split second he thought it would be rude to rummage through your kitchen so he stopped dead in his tracks and looked at his shoes by the front door. He could go out and buy the ingredients he needed to make breakfast, but what if you heard the door and woke up, that would ruin the surprise. Plus, in the past, he'd been given free access to absolutely everything in your apartment, why would this morning be any different. 

"Jesus, why am I like this, calm down, it's just an omelet" Chan said to himself as he opened your fridge and got to work.

Shortly after, you woke up too. Disappointment hit him a bit when he realized he couldn't surprise you with food anymore, but one thing he didn't know he needed in his life was a cooking session with you. There were so many little things he didn't know about you, so many things that he was so ready to love - the ridiculous amount of kitchen towels you used, the fact that you washed your hands a hundred times while cooking because who wants to touch the cheese with tomato juice on their fingers, the fact that there was a picture of a random dog you thought was cute on one of your cupboard doors and so on. He didn't have to try hard to find something to make him giddy inside, not when he was so close to this genuine, unbothered and honest version of you.

Once the food was done, you both took your seats across from one another at the table, and the topic of discussion you had just started swiftly melted away in favor of comfortable silence and the occasional utensil clatter.

"Hey, um, can I ask you something?" you questioned as you toyed with a piece of bread on your plate. "And please don't be afraid to humble me in case I'm reaching"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Am I the reason you haven't even looked at any type of alcohol whenever we went out during the past few months?"

Even though he wasn't facing you, instead staring down at his food, you still saw his eyes widen in.. embarrassment maybe? "I um… I hoped you wouldn't notice"

His reaction only made you soften further, a very strange warm feeling spreading from the middle of your chest. "You didn't have to do that, Chan"

"I know I didn't" he nodded and only looked at you for a split second before repeating himself, eyes fixed on his plate. "I know I didn't, you didn't even ask me to, but I wanted you to have that"

"Chan…"

He still wasn't meeting your eyes. "You said you didn't feel safe if everyone around you was drunk, and that's totally understandable, especially since our friend group is mostly guys. And like I know, I know none of them would ever do anything to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, but still… I know you asked your ex not to drink too much when you went out together, but he never listened. I saw he never listened and I saw the look in your eyes, so I don't know… I did the next best-" he stopped to shake his head, "I did what I could"

"Channie" you pleaded, extending your hand across the table for him to take, but he didn't. However, he looked up, met your eyes and continued speaking. 

"Like it's not even that big of a fucking deal

you know? We all have needs, we all deserve someone to listen to us and to care for us, what does he do? Partners are supposed to make each other feel safe and heard and him… fuck him! Fuck him for treating you like that. Fuck him for disrespecting you. Fuck him for making you, you out of all people, a literal angel we're all blessed to have in our lives, look into my eyes and tell me you think you're stupid. Fuck him for getting into your head and making you think all those awful things-"

That was it. You couldn't bear it anymore. You dropped everything you had in your hands and rushed around the table to him, all but tackling him off the chair with the way you threw yourself against him. It was the best way you could come up with to help him calm down, to show him that you were there, and you were ok, and that everything was fine. 

"Hey, Chan, it's ok" you cooed, brushing his hair, "It's ok, can you look at me?"

He did. "I'm sorry I got carried away" he shook his head, "I just… I hate him"

"I know…"

"You deserve someone better. I wish you never met him. And what's worse, what's keeping me up at night, is that I don't even know the full story. What I know is from what I've seen, I don't even want to think-"

"Then don't"

That hit him hard. "God, Y/n.. no.. I'm so sorry, I-"

"It's ok" you smiled and pushed some curly strands of hair off his forehead, "It's all over now, it's all in the past"

"Y/n" Chan shook his head and stood up to face you properly, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. "You know I'm always here, right? Whatever happens, or happened or might happen, I'll always be here for you. You have me, always. Ok?"

"Yeah, mhm" you nodded, teary eyes looking directly into his, "I know"

"You can always come to me, talk to me, anything, ok?"

"Yep"

"Always"

"Always" you nodded again and allowed him to bring you into a hug. 

"And I just wanna say that I know it's just a matter of time until you find someone who will make you happy the way you deserve, but until then, let me be the one to do that"

"Make me happy?" you beamed, looking up at him, "You already make me happy"

"Ok, but like-" Chan chuckled, dimples out and all  "Really happy"

"Really happy? What does that mean?"

"It means we've been so busy with work and life, we haven't hung out as much as we used to. We could start doing that again, and even as just your best friend, I know I can treat you so much better"

You probably should've taken him more seriously, "Like the Shawn Mendes song?"

Chan cringed for a second - not at the song, but at the fact that only now did he realize how cheesy he had been. "Yeah.. like the Shawn Mendes song"

"Can you learn it? And then sing it for me?"

"I, uh… yes, I guess I can"

"No, scratch that, I want a better song. I want a serenade"

"You want me to serenade you?" Chan laughed, most likely thinking you were joking.

"Yes. With a guitar and all!"

"Obviously with a guitar. What kind of a dumbass serenades someone without a guitar?"

"I don't know" you shrugged, "Some people use portable speakers and stuff"

Eyes rolled the back of his head, he pretended to shake off the distaste. "And they say romance is dead"

"But romance isn't dead, so you'll use your guitar"

His tone turned sassy and sarcastic, his hip popping to the side. "Ok, guitar. Noted. Anything else you want? Strawberries dipped in chocolate? Roses?"

"Um.. yes!? To both"

For a second he looked surprised but then jumped back into the game. "I'm writing these down, I'm not kidding" he warned, taking his phone off the table and opening the notes app. 

"Good" you moved closer to look at his screen, "And, urgh, I don't know if I want you to wear a suit and tie or a leather jacket"

"Please don't make me wear a suit," he begged.

"Ok, suit and tie. Write it down"

"Write it down" he mocked you while he did as told. "Anything else?"

"Candles!"

"Ok, candles, noted"

"And bring Berry"

"Ok, Berry.." he typed. While you had a few more ideas as to how to keep this charade going, Chan was on a different page. "I'm aware that this is just a joke, but you know I'd actually love to do all of these for you, right?"

"I know" you confessed, your attitude swiftly changing as you melted under his sweet and caring gaze. "I actually do know you'd do this, and a lot more for me. But you really don't have to, not like this, not just because it's something that I'd like but haven't gotten in the past. Maybe someday, under a different context, but please, don't feel responsible for this right now"

"I don't" he wholeheartedly shook his head. "I don't feel responsible for this, and I'm not gonna do it. But if you do wake up one morning and feel like it, just let me know, ok?"

"Yes, ok" you giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Thank you"

With his arm around your shoulders, he pressed his lips to your forehead. "Anything for you"

-

5 weeks later

The dishes were done, the trash had been taken out, your kitchen was spotless and so was your living room. And while never in your life had you ever allowed any of your guests to help you tidy up after a party, tonight had been different. Chan lingered around after everyone else had left and cheerfully helped you clean up the place, despite the clock having already struck 4. 

A small part of you still felt bad for keeping him around at that hour, but a bigger part of you was happy to still have him around.

You didn't mind being alone, but you wanted him around. That was why once you were finally done making your apartment look decent again, the second Chan dared look in the direction of where his jacket and shoes were, you instantly spoke up. 

"Ah, Channie! You're not that tired, are you?"

"Nuh-uh, no. Not really" he lied through his teeth. His eyes were half closed, his shoulders slumped and even standing up felt like a tedious task. But just like you, he didn't want to leave either. "Why?"

"I-um-" you struggled to come up with something, "Could you maybe take a look at my laptop? It's been acting funny"

Just as bad of a liar as he was. But he found it funny and didn't even hesitate before agreeing. 

He sat on the couch and waited for you to bring your laptop, which you placed on the coffee table in front of him. "What's wrong with it?" he questioned, unable to hide his knowing smile.

"I don't know" you grinned too but in pure amusement with your antics, "It's acting… funny"

"Really? Let's see"

And just so as luck had it, the laptop was working perfectly fine. "How did you do that?" you pretended to gasp. "You fixed it!"

"I did?" he chuckled, "Magic hands, I guess"

"Yeah… probably. But I think you should stay for a bit. What if it stops working again?"

"We wouldn't want that, would we?" he hummed and then you noticed his eyes slip to the clock at the corner of the screen. 4:43am. It snapped you out of it in an instant, what the hell were you doing?

"Actually, I don't think I'm gonna use it tonight anyway. If it starts acting up again tomorrow, I'll call you. You can go, Channie. Thanks anyway"

"Can I stay anyway?" he asked and your heart nearly dropped. "Hang out for a bit?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"I am but.. I don't want to leave"

"Ok" you softly said and then fought to look anywhere but directly into his eyes. "There's some ice tea left, would you like some?"

"Mhm, sure"

Part of you expected him to refuse your offer, but you were glad he didn't. It was what most of you had to drink that night, an ice tea - soju combo you found online that turned out to be even better than expected, and now, the last remaining cups of it were on the coffee table as you settled back on the couch next to Chan. 

He sipped his drink in silence, a telltale sign that something was on his mind. It was obvious he was hesitant. "Just say it" you giggled, "There's something on your mind"

"I was just… I wanted to ask, but I don't know if I should"

You knew what he meant, or at least thought you did. "Ask me"

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to"

"You haven't said anything" you reminded him, "I don't know if I want to talk about it or not"

"Y/n…"

"Chan…" you rolled your eyes in the exact same way that he did, which made him playfully nudge your shoulder. 

"Are you ok with me drinking right now?" 

"Yes! Of course! I thought you drank earlier too”

“I did, I did… I just wanted to make sure”

“It’s fine, Chris, don’t worry” you smiled and leaned into his side for a second. “I offered you the drink. And even if I hadn’t, I told you, you don’t have to stay away from alcohol at all times just because of me”

“I know…” he said, his eyes instantly falling down to his hands. “I just don’t know the whole story and I don’t want to do something by mistake and make you feel uncomfortable”

“Channie… stop, no, don’t go there. I don’t want you to feel like walking on eggshells around me. I promise I’ll tell you if there’s ever anything, but you could never make me feel uncomfortable”

“I don’t want to push you if you don’t feel like talking about it but I’ve been dying to ask” he softly said and all you did was blink as a sign for him to continue. “When or like, how did this all start?”

“Um..” you took a deep breath. You knew it would come up, that he’d eventually gather the courage to ask, and you dreaded the fact that you let things get so far before telling him. “It’s not really that big of a deal, I think I make it seem like a way more serious thing than it actually is”

“You can still tell me, you know I always want to listen to you"

“I know” you smiled and met his calm eyes. He was patient, gathered into a ball on the couch, waiting for you to speak. He wasn’t going to pressure you or dismiss your feelings, he looked at you with adoration in his eyes, all the patience in the world, all just for you. “I.. I don’t feel comfortable around drunk people because I feel like they’re unpredictable. And unfiltered, I guess. It’s wrong of me to assume, but I can’t help but fear that everyone is going to act like that when they get drunk. And I’m always afraid that in case they say or do something that bothers me, they won’t listen when I try to talk to them, that they’d keep doing their thing no matter what I say. That was why I wanted my ex boyfriend to stay relatively sober when we went out together, so that I’d have someone to turn to in case I felt overwhelmed. Funny-” you chuckled bitterly, “He was the only one who acted like that whenever there was alcohol around. Everyone else is just more giggly and prone to start dancing out of nowhere”

“I’m very sorry he never listened to you, Y/n”

“That’s ok, it’s all in the past now. I like to think that if I ever find myself in a similar situation again, I’ll at least know to get out faster. I promised myself I’d never allow a person like this in my life, but I did, and that made me feel really bad about myself. So, baby steps, I guess”

“Why did you promise yourself that before?”

You sighed. “It was my dad. He used to drink a lot back when I was younger, always looking to start fights and all that. He’s the reason for a lot of my anxieties, but blaming him is not gonna get me anywhere. I’m just trying to do my own thing”

“And you’re doing a really good job, Y/n” Chan said. 

“You think so?” you giggled, the weight of the topic making you more inclined to show your emotions, no matter how much you’d have liked to keep a strong front.

“I really do” he nodded, “And I love to see it”

“You know it’s thanks to you, right?”

“It’s not thanks to me, Y/n” Chan rolled his eyes and opened his arms for you. “Come here”

After setting your drink down, you crawled closer and cuddled into his chest, your head tucked right under his chin. “It is, because you gave me everything and never expected anything in return. I barely felt comfortable enough to be myself when I was alone, but you made me feel safe enough to realize that maybe there’s nothing wrong with me, that I can accept myself and that maybe other people will accept me too. And at the same time, I realized that I don’t really care what other people see in me or not, because you see me and you like me just the way I am, and that’s a big deal to me.”

When you stopped speaking, you couldn’t see him. You had your cheek pressed against his chest and even though you were able to feel his heart rate quicken, you didn’t think much of it. But when he failed to answer, you quickly turned your head to look at him. His glossy eyes met yours, bottom lip popping out as he struggled to keep himself from letting out more than he considered appropriate.

“I just really, really love you, Channie” you said past the heavy lump that was building in the back of your throat. “And going back to what you asked me earlier, no, you could never make me feel uncomfortable. Not that it matters much, but the last time I saw you drunk, you spent one whole hour reading the truth or dare cards and laughed your heart out by yourself and then you went to sleep. But even so, I think I’m past the point where it’s about what you say or what you do, it’s just… you. I love you” you said again and squeezed him in your hold, arms tightening around his frame until your joints hurt. It made him chuckle and his head fell forward, along with a little, stray tear that landed on your shoulder.

“I love you, Y/n” he tried to whisper, as a pathetic attempt to hide the way his voice trembled. But you heard it, you felt it, and in return, only smiled as you looked up at him.

"You're my person"

"I'll be whatever you want me to be, so then I'll take it, I'll be your person" 

"No, you don't get it" you laughed and cuddled back into the cushions so you could face him as you gathered your knees to your chest. "You are my person. I always considered my roommate to be my best friend, and I always thought my partner should be my half. But it's still always been you, the one person I run to and the one person I always want to talk to. I guess that never sat right with me." as you spoke, your tone got progressively lighter, until a giggle escaped, "I guess I need you out of my life so I can move on"

"Hey!" Chan's face suddenly got serious. He nudged your knee, fixed you with his stare and pointed a finger in your face. "Don't say that"

But you did, you said it, and were ready to say it again. It was a dumb thought, you knew that, but still, you couldn't shake it. It had been in the back of your mind for too long, popping up at the most inopportune moments, but this wasn't one of those. Now you were being honest, getting stuff off of your chest, and if there was a moment to say this out loud, it was now. 

"I'm serious" you leaned your temple against your closed fist and looked down, "I don't want this to sound like a 'reject me so I can move on' type of thing, but I do look for you in other people. And I know I'm not gonna find you there, but I still get disappointed when I don't" 

"But why not me? Why look for me in other people when I'm right here?" 

"Don't say that" you cuddled closer into yourself. "I thought about it, of course I did. And I wanted to make a move, more than once, but we wouldn't work. This isn't right"

While he looked hurt by your words, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes - in the way he looked at you, as if he was one step away from having it all and was determined to fight for it. "Why do you think that?"

"I already feel like a leech, but it's one thing when you're just my friend. I don't think we'd have a very healthy attachment. You pieced me back together, and I love that - for myself. But it wouldn't be fair to you. You shouldn't have to constantly do that for your partner. At least not when they can't do the same for you"

"Y/n" he said in a serious tone, his eyes fixed on yours. "You can't possibly believe that"

"It's true, though"

"No, it's not. Just because you've been through a difficult time and I've been here for you, doesn't mean you haven't been there for me too!"

"Yeah, but I haven't done anything any of your other friends wouldn't have."

"Well then" he began speaking and struggled to hide his grin. "Why did you do all of those things for me if you knew I had others who could do them?"

"Why?" you frowned. "Why!? Because I wanted to. Because I wanted to be-" but then it hit you. "Oh shut up!" you exclaimed and stood up from the couch, your feet involuntarily leading you towards the kitchen. "I'm not having this conversation with you!"

"Y/n! Come back here!" Chan laughed out loud and jumped to follow you, all a giggle as he caught up with you. He placed his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chuckles even more uncontrollable now that he had seen the flustered look on your face. "You're my person too!"

"Chan, stop it" you giggled and hid your face behind your palms.

"Who let's me sleep over because they know that if I'm alone I'll spend the entire night working? Who's the first one that gets to hear my songs? Who do I call crying when I miss home? Is it you?" he chuckled, "Is it? The way you come over every single time I tell you I miss my family. Remember that one time you had some work to do, but you still came over and we haven't talked for hours because you were busy, but just the fact that you were there, with me, put me back on my feet? Y/n, look at me"

You shook your head, overwhelmed and completely confused by the hurricane of emotions swirling around your chest. 

"You're my home, you dumb ass" he kissed the side of your head. "It's funny to me that you didn't know"

Itchy on the inside and too fired up to stay still, you wiggled your way out of his hold and turned to face him. "How was I supposed to know?" you threw your arms up in frustration, eyes glossy as you giggled your way through the sentence, "You never told me, you idiot"

"Was it really that effortless for you? To be everything I ever needed?"

"Oh, shut up!" you scoffed, the tears now threatening to spill down your cheeks. Again, you tried to hide from him, but Chan wasn't having it.

"Come here" he hugged you again, "I love you"

"Leave me alone" you cried, face hidden in the crook of his neck. 

It might have looked like he found it amusing, but he too was overwhelmed. His little chuckles were nothing else other than a sign of all the admiration and awe he felt inside when he looked at you, of the warmth around his heart as you clung to his hoodie like your life depended on it. 

But eventually you pulled away. "Ok, I'm done. I love you" you wiped your tears and turned to leave, "But I'm also done with this conversation"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Chan exclaimed, not missing a beat before caging you in between his arms and the counter behind you. "All these years I thought my feelings were one sided, today I find out they aren't, that you feel the same way, but then you tell me you don't want to do anything about it?"

"Basically"

"Y/n!" he laughed in despair, "Come on. Give me one good reason we shouldn't be together. Just one"

"I- I don't have one. I'm just scared"

"Of what?" Chan asked softly, "It's just me. You know me"

"I don't know" you lied. "It's scary. You make it scary"

"I make it scary?" he gasped. 

"What if I fuck up?"

"What if I fuck up?"

You scoffed. "Yeah, right"

"Love, at this point, you're just being delusional. I have no idea what's going on inside that head of yours, but I'd love to find out. Tomorrow. Now it's the buttcrack of morning, I've been dying to kiss you for god knows how long and you're just standing here, spewing nonsense as if you're not the most amazing person I've ever met."

"I'm sorry" you looked down.

Chan tiled your chin back up so you'd look at him, "Don't be sorry, just trust me"

"I trust you" 

"Then, can I kiss you?"

And a little nod was enough. And no matter how nervous you might have been, his hold, like so many times before, drained the worries right out of your mind. And the awkwardness - ever present whenever you kissed someone for the first time, especially someone you cared about, barely managed to make its presence felt. Because at the end of the day, nothing was new. You may have never kissed him before, but the intimacy was familiar. You knew his touch, how he felt, how gentle he was and how much he cared. Only now, you got to experience that through a kiss shared in your kitchen, while the sun was rising, after you opened your heart for him and he still craved you as much as ever. 

And while in a way it felt cathartic - the release of so much pent up emotion, it was still frustrating. You couldn't get as close as you wanted no matter how hard you pressed yourself against him, and you couldn't get enough of his taste despite going at it until dizziness took over. 

It was hard to pull away for air when the kiss itself felt like breathing. 

The sun was already up and at the top of the sky by the time you opened your eyes. You had probably gotten around 5 or 6 hours of sleep when something stirred you awake. 

Excited to wake up for the first time in ages, you didn't care what interrupted your sleep, you just stretched over to the other side of the bed, and frowned when you found it empty. 

But then there it was again, the sound that woke you up. The neighbors, you thought, climbing out of bed. 

The reasonable thing to do was head to the bathroom, fix your hair a little, maybe brush your teeth, but there was something else on your mind and you went to look for it. 

"Chan?" you stopped dead in your tracks in the middle of the hallway, one hand rubbing your squinted eyes. "What are you-"

"Ah, fuck" he looked up at you, like a child caught red-handed. He didn't move, just sat there in his spot on his knees by the door, unable to come up with a way to word an explanation. He hoped you'd understand it yourself.

It took you a second but the details started coming one by one - the suit, the tie, the guitar against the wall. There were rose petals on the floor. And under Chan's arm - the source of the sounds that woke you up - Berry fidgeting and yelping, desperately trying to wiggle his way out Chan's grip and over to you. 

"Chan, what is this?" you scrunched your face at the itchiness in your nose and furiously blinked at the way your eyes suddenly started stinging. 

"You, uh… weren't supposed to wake up yet"

"Chan, what the fuck is this"

Wordlessly, he put Berry down and stood up. 

The dog sprinted at you, tail wagging as his little paws clawed at your legs. All you could do was pick him up and squeeze him to your chest, sinking your nose in his soft fur as a way to ignore everything else. 

"You don't like it," Chan simply said. It probably should have been a question, but the insecurity inside his chest made it sound like a statement. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

"Don't like it?" you mumbled, walking towards him as Berry still worked on greeting you with some well deserved and hungry licks all over your chin, cheek and jaw. "Chan, I-"

"I also got candles," he pointed to the kitchen table, "And strawberries. And there's chocolate too"

You walked over and spotted the bowl, full of chocolate dipping cream, covered with a plastic wrap. "Did you make this!?"

"No, no… I would've- I really wanted to, but there wasn't time. I asked Felix"

"You asked Felix?"

He responded with a shameful nod but then jumped to clarify. "I didn't tell him what I needed it for, I- I said it was just for fruit in general. I didn't want to tell anyone anything until I talked to you first, especially because I was a little bit pushy last night, so if you want me to leave, I'll leave-"

"Leave!? Pushy? No, you weren't pushy, stop it"

He breathed out relieved. "Ok, good, because I could barely sleep last night, I- I felt like I forced you to kiss me and I felt so bad, but you were already asleep and I didn't know-"

"Oh my god, no" you shook your head and launched yourself at him, a tight hug with Berry squeezed in the middle. "You didn't pressure me to do anything, relax"

And while the embrace felt good and homey for you, Chan didn't mirror your emtions. He was still on edge, only half of his grand plan having played out yet. "There's still the song, I promised I'd serenade you"

"You learned a song for me" you melted, "What song?"

"You haven't heard it before"

"I haven't?"

"No, because I wrote it. It's about you. For you. I wrote it when you first joked about all of this, I wrote it all that night, and I've been dying to play it for you ever since then, but now I'm so nervous, I think-" he tugged at the collar of his shirt, "I think I'll combust"

While in awe with everything happening, you weren't quite happy. "But I don't like this, Chan. You put so much effort into this and I haven't even washed my face. Can you give me a second? So I don't look like-" you gestured up and down your body, "this"

"You know… I feel like I've been so cheesy and over the top this morning, that I don't think one more cliche is going to make that big of a difference."

As you switched Berry from one side to the other due to your arms growing tired, you raised one eyebrow in confusion.

With nothing but admiration in his eyes, Chan smiled, "You have never looked more beautiful to me"

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!! 🥺 feedback makes my day so I'd love to hear what you thought!!! ❤️❤️

[leosficlist]

Johnlock Fluff rec list Part 2!

Back again! Here are some stories of getting together, and fluffy domestic warm fuzzy feelings!

Fluff 1, Fluff 3 , Fluff 4

The Barter System by brbsoulnomming 6.9k words

“Sherlock and John form a bartering system. Well, Sherlock does, anyway.”

notes: sharing clothes, getting together, includes a first time but overall feels fluff

A Long December by LondonSpirit 3.1k words

John and Sherlock get snowed in, Sherlock doesn't feel well and John looks after him.

notes: first kiss, bed sharing for warmth

Hope Springs Eternal by QuinnAnderson 4k words

John Watson and Sherlock Holmes go on holiday, and Sherlock has romance on the brain.

notes: Sherlock being romantic, first kiss/time

The Source of Light by bookjunkiecat 4k words

During the outbreak of the virus, John, as medical personnel, is essential on the medical frontlines. This means a necessary separation from his loved ones. Stretched thin, exhausted, he nevertheless makes time for a Skype call with Sherlock and Rose. Even though all he wants is to finally tell Sherlock how much he loves him, now isn't the time. Circumstances, however, don't always work as we expect.

notes: parentlock, COVID-19 mention

Insomnia by youtextd 4.4k words

Sherlock and John can't sleep.

notes: love filled getting together, first time

So, this is normal for us now? by TooManyChoices 1.4k words

John and Sherlock have been sharing a flat, and a life for some time. This is a story of how the glacially slow movement of their relationship makes another agonising crawl forward another inch.

notes: bed sharing, mentions sex but no smut

It’s In The Details by KimbiaBlue 4.2k words

“I’d like for us to meet with a forensic artist, to determine how capable we are of describing one another to a perfect stranger, should there be a need in future.”

In which John struggles to adequately describe Sherlock Holmes, and also thinks about his lips a lot.

notes: post-mary, no baby mention

Nothing So Sweet by @alexxphoenix42 5.2k

In an alternate universe, Sherlock is busy keeping to himself, tending his bees, and selling lovely jars of honey when a soldier limps into his life quite unexpectedly.

notes: au, first date first time fluff

and stand there at the edge of my affection by coloredink 2.6k

"You've written love letters," Sherlock asserted.

A Bit of Spring by Avice 3.3k words

Sherlock is in love and almost buys flowers. John is confused until a good old fumble in the dark helps him see the light.

notes: sherlock in love, jealous john, trapped together first kiss, first time

A hiccup in the plan by jamlockk 1.3k words

"In retrospect, it might have happened anyway. As it was, circumstances converged to create conditions conducive to finding himself trapped in a small space, pressed close to his half-furious, half-laughing flatmate, trying desperately to stop the undignified squeaks erupting from his esophagus. Sherlock later reflected that, if he'd known that's all it would take for John to kiss him, he'd have got stuck in a cupboard on a stake out long ago."

34 Minutes by bendingsignpost 4.6k words

An experiment in eye contact.

notes: truly lovely

Wish I Was in Heaven Sitting Down by @blogstandbygo 3.2k words 🔒

Five times when Sherlock and John ate together, and one time they didn't. A history of the boys, in food.

notes: through the years til post s4, minorly hurt john

The Trouble With Being Subtle by Victory Candescence 5.4k words

In which Sherlock experiments, John misinterprets, and everyone else stands back and waits for the light to turn on.

notes: Sherlock is bad at flirting

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 29 - Chamomile

Heyyyy guyysss. So I am FINALLY back with an update. I've had some other works get in the way *Crocodile and Hazbin Hotel ahem*

I've worked on this when I can and it's a bit longer than my usual chapters. Sorta of an introspection chapter. Our girl has to do a lot of thinking. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Also! I've used A LOT of the live action gifs. I'll be swapping to anime!

Warnings! None I don't think? Drinking.

Link to Ao3! -> Here

Masterlist

Being pregnant is weird. You ache in weird places, and your feet constantly hurt. You hated how emotional you'd become and how much you still longed for the familiar comfort of your boys. You missed the easy companionship and the warmth of their love for you. How they held you close whenever you wanted and went out of their way to bring you little gifts. But then you are reminded that Shanks and Mihawk are nothing but liars and are left wondering if anything that the three of you shared together meant something to them. 

It's a horrible way to think, and it makes you feel guilty, but you can't help it. What else could they have lied to you about? Shanks had told you he loved you early on, but Mihawk had never uttered the words once, preferring to show you how much you meant to him. But were you just play thing with them? A convenient source for both men to use? You didn't know, and it made you even more upset thinking about it. 

Your tummy moves, and you glance down at the sight of your baby squirming. You can't help but grimace at the weird sensation. Your baby is always moving, never allowing you the rest you desperately want, and it's just one more thing to stack on top of all the rest of your woes. Sometimes, it felt like the growing bundle was punishing you for sending your boys away, especially with how much worse you've been feeling lately without their presence. 

Shanks had been so happy to find out that you were pregnant, but he was less enthusiastic about the more gross details and what came with raising a child. He had promised you over and over that he would be there to help, but that he'd definitely have to get used to it. 

The redhead drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your thighs as he presses the side of his face to your tummy. It's hardly a bump, but Shanks loves the growing bundle inside of his treasure all the same. He kisses your stomach, lips lingering there as he imagines a tiny redhead running around. 

Mihawk stands behind you, still over the moon with the news. He was worried, very much so. Even if your pregnancy and birth were smooth sailing, that meant that Mihawk would have one more person in the world that he would need to protect. It terrified him, but running was the last thing on his mind. In reality, the hawk couldn't get over how radiant you looked and planned to worship every inch of your body until you begged him to stop. 

You frown and push the memories aside. Maybe they hadn't been lying to you about everything, but both of them knew that you had no idea who you were. How could they have kept that from you? Why had they waited so long to tell you? 

You would have forgiven Mihawk if he had been truthful to you from the start. You were desperate for any kind of company then and had become spoiled on his, so you hadn't thought to question his words back then. But now that you are thinking about it, you can recall how Mihawk had hesitated the day you first told him of your “dreams”. 

You would have been upset, yes, but you didn't love Mihawk back then. it would have been much less of a betrayal, but his decision to wait had made it one of the worst things he could have done. 

You had an older brother out there who you didn't even know existed, a connection to your past, but Mihawk was too fucking selfish too see that. Damn, now you're just getting angry. But maybe that was good? Maybe you needed to let it all out. You stand from where you'd been curled up on the couch. You have the sudden urge to move. It's been days since your boys left and you've done nothing but lay around and sulk.

Hank jumps up after his human, dark eyes sparking up in excitement to see you finally up and about. He follows after you and lets out a low yip to grab his little brother's attention. Sukuna would kill him if he didn't wake him up. 

The orange fluff ball appears within moments, greeting Hank with a yowl and rubbing up against your legs. You crouch to love on him for a second before you continue on, manic energy coursing through your body. They follow their human to your bedroom, and you prop open the door, intending to start deep cleaning the room. You've let too many clothes pile up. 

Hank lays under your vanity, and Sukuna squeezes in beside the mutt, big golden eyes never leaving you. They can smell Your raging emotions, and neither want to accidentally get in your way. 

You start in the corner, lip curling up in annoyance when you immediately find a pair of Shanks’ pants that he'd left behind. You chuck them to the floor, and soon, it becomes a growing pile of clothing that both men had left behind. You pause once you reach a familiar white shirt, hesitating in tossing your favorite to the pile. 

Hank whines when he begins to smell your rising distress and crawls out from under his hiding spot to go to your side. He doesn't like that his human has been so upset lately and is curious as to why her mates haven't shown back up to take care of her. Hank knows that they had a fight. It's why he had gotten in between his human and the one armed man, even if Hank really liked him. 

You turn to your dog, a sad smile on your lips as you hold the ruffled and well-loved shirt close to your face. Hank whines again and presses his face into your side, trapping the shirt between the two of you. 

“Oh. Alright. I guess it'd be okay to keep this one, huh, buddy?” You murmur and gently shove Hank away so you can lift the shirt you're wearing now and toss it into your hamper. You shrug on Shanks’ shirt, snickering when the material grows tight around your swollen belly. You can't help but think that wearing the shirt feels like the redhead is there with you, wrapping you up in a hug. 

You blink as your vision swims and quickly stand, going to the pile of their clothes and shifting through them until you find a large overcoat with delicate designs. 

It's during a rare storm on your island that Mihawk decides to show up. His coat and hat are completely soaked through, and the warlord feels more like a wet cat than anything at that moment. This must be what Sukuna feels like when you give the poor cat a bath. Mihawk emphasizes with him. 

He barges into the cottage like he owns the place, scaring the hell out of you from where you sit in the living room putting together a puzzle that he'd brought you on a previous visit. The piece you're holding goes flying into the air, and you level a glare at the soaked warlord. 

“I'll never find that, you know!” You shout after him as he trudged to the bathroom. He ignores you, closing the door with a snap and quickly undressing. He hangs up his coat to dry and then hops into the now steaming shower to wash the cold rainwater away. 

Mihawk joins you back in the living room half an hour later, dressed in nothing but sleep pants. He settles down on the floor behind you, tugging you close to his chest and hooking his bearded chin over your shoulder. He presses an apologetic kiss to your neck. 

“I'll buy you another if we can't find the piece later,” Dracule promises. You give a satisfied nod and smile, leaning back into his chest.

“I'll hold you to it.” 

Mihawk never took that coat with him again. 

You stare down at the dark coat, licking your lips before, ultimately saying screw it and sliding your arms through the sleeves. It's massive on you, dragging the floor and swallowing you up, but it brings you that comfort that you desperately need right now. You clutch the lapels of the jacket close, sniffing pathetically as you sit in the middle of the pile of clothes. Fuck. You miss them so much. 

Sukuma meows at you and makes a show of walking on the shirts and pants that surround you, sniffing at them before making biscuits and settling in. Hank plops down beside you, and you can't help the water laugh that escapes. 

“I dunno if it's sad or not that the two of you can communicate with me better than a human being,” you quip and let yourself wallow in pity for a little while longer before you stand. You sigh and gather the clothes up and place them in the ditty laundry with everything else. You don't have the heart to get rid of them, not when you can't even decide for yourself if you want them to come back or not. 

Sukuna and Hank share a look as they follow you around for the rest of the day. They don't dare leave you alone, not when you reek of sadness and self-pity. Hank does his best to make his human feel a bit better, bringing you his favorite toys and being a big goof when you toss his ball. Sukuna made sure to keep close, his purring, a constant, thunderous roar that drowned out the sad little voice in your head. 

~~~~~~~

Their company makes you feel better, but you are still down and miserable a couple of days later. It's been just over two weeks since you sent your boys away, and you've had a lot of time to think during that time. You aren't nearly as upset with Shanks as you are with Mihawk. The redhead had only gone along with Dracule's dumb ass decision at Mihawk's discretion, so you didn't think it was very fair to be so upset with the Emperor. 

You were still angry with him, but you could forgive the redhead. 

You still hadn't found a good enough excuse for Mihawk, however. His lying to you had been nothing but selfish desire to keep you his. You don't understand how keeping such information from you could be considered keeping you safe, but then you think back to what Shanks had told you the morning before everything had gone to shit. 

“Sometimes Mihawk thinks he knows what's best for us, even if he goes about it the wrong way.” 

Well, wrong he was, but in a weird way, you could almost see his logic. 

Your family, your home, your kingdom, it was all gone - destroyed by Big Mom and her family. You'd been so young, six years old, when it happened, that other than the same memories that plague you nightly, you hardly remember your family or your home. Aside from Tomura, and even then, the memories were vague at best. 

Did it make you a bad person if you stayed with the man who had killed the people who lived on your island? Your apparent subjects, because you're some long lost princess? Not that you being royalty mattered, not to you at least. Why would you want all that responsibility when you've lived such a free life away from the rest of the world? How can you grieve for something you've never known?

You hated all these new questions and doubts that his confession had brought on. You almost wish that he'd just kept his mouth shut, but then you think about the brother that is still a mystery to you. Tomura had been your only friend as a child, and you wish you could ask him what he thought about all this.

A sudden pounding on your front door has you jumping out of your skin, and fury rushing up your spine. Really? They couldn't even stay away for a week? 

You stomp over to the door, a curse on your lips that sputters out the moment you see who exactly is at your door. 

“Perona?” You demand, brows shooting up. 

The pink girl barges in like her father figure, strutting into your home like she owns the place. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” 

“Coming to see you, duh,” Perona quips like she busts into your life on the daily. Which she does not. She plops on the couch, sighing dramatically, “I couldn't stand another day being around Mihawk. He's not stopped moping since you made them leave.” 

Her words catch you off guard. Perona had come here to complain about Mihawk to you of all people? Was she crazy? Perona opens her mouth and spouts off before you can get a word in. 

“I'm surprised he even got inside the castle as drunk as he was! The humandrals probably stayed away because of how badly he reeked!” 

Your mouth grows dry. You didn't think that Mihawk would be the one to go off into a drinking stupor, and despite yourself, you still felt concerned for the older man. Mihawk was such a recluse, and it had taken months for him to open up to you, and who knew where Shanks was. You had expected the men to at least find comfort in each other. 

“Shanks isn't there?” You ask her and take a seat in Mihawk's armchair. You haven't been able to bring yourself to call it yours again, even in your head. 

Perona shakes her head, sending her bouncy pig tails flying, “Nope. Not that I saw anyway. But enough about him. How are you doing? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” 

You smile at her concern and push down the emotions that threaten to swell up like the ocean and pull you under. 

“I'm okay. The baby is okay. A lot more squirmy than usual, actually.” You assure the other woman and smooth your hand over your stomach. You are wearing one of Mihawk's shirts today, a brilliant red in color styled in his usual fashion. 

Perona squeals in happiness and claps her hand, “Oh good! Can I feel it?”

You nod and watch with a soft smile as the younger girl kneels by your seat and gently rests her hand atop your coveted belly. She giggles when the little one kicks her hand almost immediately. 

It's quiet for a while, and that concern for Mihawk resurfaces with a vengeance. You lick your lips, and Perona seems to feel the shift in the air, for she sits back and plops back on the couch. She watches her friend, feeling guilty and sorry for the other woman. It wasn't fair. 

“Mihawk told me what happened. Well, more like he drunkenly yelled about it and threw a lot of things, but still. I wanted to come see you. Are you seriously okay?” 

Her big eyes are full of nothing but worry for you, and you feel the walls crack and break under her kind gaze. 

“Ah-no not really,” you admit quietly and sweep your hand through your hair, “I guess I didn't realize how much they were picking up my slack around here. Being pregnant fucking sucks, and I feel horrible for missing two men who betrayed my trust.” 

You sniff and force the tears back. You are so sick of crying. Sick of feeling like crap, and you just want everything to go back to the way it was. 

Perona stands and gathers you in for a hug, and you gladly bury your face in her shoulder and cry. It feels like it's been forever since you've had any kind of human interaction, and having Perona here has broken you. She holds you until you've stopped crying, and then when you let go, the ghost girl lopes to the kitchen to fix the two of you hot cups of tea. The warm drink does wonders for your sore throat, and you let yourself relax back into Mihawk's chair. 

“I think you sending them away was the right thing to do. For now, at least,” Perona begins, and you glance up at her from over the rim of your mug. She sits criss cross on the couch, and you smile when you see that Sukuna has curled up in her lap. Big fluff ball only liked girls. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that this alone time gave you some time to think, right? I know Mihawk did bad, and I told him more than once that it wasn't okay that he was keeping that from you, but, _.” 

You look at Perona when she says your name, and you frown at the insurge of wrongfulness that swims in your chest. You don't know if you want to hear this. 

“He's a disaster. I've never seen him like this before, and maybe you could give him a second chance? Maybe give him a call to know that you're okay?” 

Mihawk had become Perona’s guardian and father figure all rolled up into one big surly warlord. She loved him and hated that Dracule was wasting away alone in the castle at Gloom Island. He deserved to be happy, and the ghost girl knew that you and Shanks were the only two for him. 

You stay quiet. Could you do what Perona asks? The more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that yes, you could definitely do this. You wanted to talk to Mihawk. You needed to see how the older man was doing. 

“Is he really that bad?” You ask softly, and Hank seems to notice the stress that coats your tone. He rises from in front of the fireplace and lays his big head on your lap. You slid your fingers into his fur and found that easy comfort. 

“He won't stop drinking and yelled at me when I tried to take his booze away. He won't eat, won't shower, and hasn't trained since he got to Gloom.” 

It's one nail in the coffin after the other, and you find yourself up out of the chair and to the snail transponder that you've intentionally forgotten about. Your hands shake as you dial the familiar number, and you glance to the living room to see Perona giving you a double thumbs up. 

CA-LICK

“Who the fuck thinks that they can call this number.” 

Gods. Perona really wasn't joking when she said that Mihawk was a mess. He sounded sloshed, voice thick with alcohol and lack of sleep. 

“Mihawk? It's me,” you say quietly, and the silence is loud even over the phone. You close your eyes and picture the look of shock that the warlord no doubt has. 

“Angel? You called?” His voice is full of disbelief and aching hope. 

“Perona asked me to call you. She said you aren't…doing very well.” You finish lamely. It's never been this awkward between the two of you before, and you do not like it. 

“Oh, so that's where she ran off to. You shouldn't worry about me, Darling. I'm perfectly fine- oh!” 

You jump when you hear a loud crash over the receiver, “Mihawk? Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine my dear. Only tripped. I'm quite clumsy today,” Mihawk slurs and you crack a smile at his uncharacteristic behavior. You hear him shuffle about and settle down in a chair, voice sobering up just a bit as he focuses on speaking. 

“It's good to hear your voice, sweetheart. I missed you something terrible, you know? Are you doing well? Is the baby okay?” 

You can hear his voice catch a frantic edge, and you are quick to reassure the warlord. You dont want him sailing across the Grand Line sloshed. 

“We're both fine. She's been a little more rowdy than usual,” you say quietly and bite your lip, a tiny sigh leaving you. You rub your tummy, eyes sliding shut, “She misses her daddies. So do I.” 

It's quiet on the other end of the line, just the sound of Dracule breathing. It's honesty nice to hear, and you find yourself relaxing again the wall, head thunking against it. 

“...I'm so sorry, Angel. What I've done to you is irreversible. I wish that I could take it all back.” 

His apology hurts. You want to forgive him for his sins, assure Mihawk that nothing had changed and that he could come back home. But you couldn't, even if he had saved you and your brother at the end of the day. 

“You can't, Mihawk, and I don't know if I can ever forgive you,” you hear his lungs hitch on the other end, a sharp intake of breath that sounds near painful. You look down at your growing belly, tears spriouting, “But it isn’t fair to you to keep you away from her, and- and I don't think I can do this without you.” 

“Her? You think the baby is a girl?” 

A smile plays your lips. Of course, that is what he picked up on right now. 

“I just have a feeling, is all,” you admit to him. You hum quietly, and thousands of miles away, Mihawk relaxes in his armchair for the first time in weeks at the sweet sound. 

“ …You would trust me around her? Around you again?” He asks you, and Gods, how were you suppose to answer that? 

“Did you ever lie to me about anything else?” You ask instead of answering that. You needed to know if anything you had shared with Dracule had been fake. 

“No. I've always been truthful to you, Angel. You’ve become my whole world, and I wanted to do anything I could to protect that.” 

Even over the snail transponder, you can tell that Mihawk is telling the truth. You only have one last question, one that makes you almost nauseous to ask. 

“Do you love me, Mihawk?” 

On Gloom Island, the warlord looks stricken, face growing pale and falling at the mention of that four letter word. Did he not show you how much he cared for you? Did his actions not speak of how much you meant to him? 

No, it didn't. His lack of action that had cost him everything. Mihawk wouldn't let that happen again. 

“I don't think I should answer that over the phone, Angel.” 

He hears your breath hitch, and do he plows on, shoving away the unease that wants to settle like a deadly cloak. 

“I want to see you, again. Will you permit me that?” 

Before you can answer, you hear a commotion on the other end of the line. Curious, you listen in. 

Mihawk cocks an unimpressed brow when the door to his study flies open, banging against the wall and sending a couple of books falling from the shelves. Shanks gives him an unapologetic grin and shut the door softly behind himself. 

“Sorry about that, Baby,” the redhead slurs. He is drunk as a skunk, and Mihawk curls his lips at the stench that clings to Shanks, “I wanted to come see you, you've been avoiding me.” 

“It's not avoiding if you aren't seeking. I've been here this whole time,” Mihawk grumbles at the younger man and points to a chair on the other side of his desk. Shanks ignores him, loping around the desk to instead drape himself across Mihawk's shoulders instead. 

“Who're you talking to?” Shanks demands when he catches sight of the snail on Dracule's desk. 

“Hi Shanks,” the redhead zeros in when he hears your voice, dark eyes going wide and he makes grabby hands for the receiver. 

“Treasure! I miss you!” Shanks whines into the phone, and your chest tightens at the forlorn tone that coats his words, “When can we come home?” 

You can't help but giggle at his request, though that guilt still eats at you, you want to see them again. Maybe Perona was right about that second chance. It felt so good to speak to both of your boys, even if they hadn't been taking care of themselves, but you still didn't think you could have them here. Not yet. 

“Not yet, Shanks. I need some more time,” you murmur and wish you were there with them when you hear the sound of flesh meeting flesh. 

“Don't bother her with questions like that. She'll take all the time she needs,” Mihawk snaps and glares at the redhead who now lays sprawled on the floor. 

You listen to Shanks whine like a child in the background, and the sound of your two boys together makes you long to be there with them. 

“He's fine, Mihawk. How about you let him stay there with you, and I'll call you again soon?” You suggest softly. You know that Mihawk won't willingly ask Shanks to stay with him, but you didn't want either of them to be without the other right now. 

Dracule sighs heavily but nods all the same, golden eyes landing on the redhead who looks seconds away from passing out, “Only because you asked, Angel.” 

“Don't act like you don't love him,” you admonish quietly, and his next words shock you to the core. 

“You're right, Darling. I do love him.” 

You can hear the quiet astonishment in Dracule’s voice, and this time, it's happy tears that will up and threaten to fall. You sniff harshly, “See, that wasn't that bad, was it?” 

A fond smile plays on his lips, golden eyes soft, “No, no it wasn't.” 

A stilted silence settles over the connection, and the two of you speak up at the same time. 

“I should go-” 

“I should go-”

You huff a soft laugh and continue, “you should make sure Shanks hasn't drunk himself into a coma. I'll um, I'll keep in touch, okay?” 

“Alright, Darling, call again soon, okay?” Mihawk, please and grips the receiver harshly, voice turning desperate, “We miss you.” 

You swallow harshly, eyes clenched shut, “I will. I miss you too.” 

You hang up the transmitter, taking a deep breath before going back to Mihawk's chair and plopping down with a world weary sigh. Perona cocks a brow at you.

“Did it go okay?” 

You shrug, “Yeah, it was good hearing from them. Shanks will probably still be there when you go home, by the way.” 

You snicker at the sneer that ghosts across Perona’s face, finding amusement in her disgusted reaction, “Fantastic.”

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27

[sunkiss3dlily]

to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) part two | joel miller x reader

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2611

Summary: While waiting for Joel to recover, he takes a turn for the worst, and you find yourself doing whatever you can to keep him with you and Ellie.

Note(s): I was asked to do a second part of this fic where the reader gets hurt and Joel goes crazy over it, but it was getting a bit long so I've split it into three parts, so this is the first and the second will be up pretty soon! This deviates from the show/game in terms of the David situation (Ellie doesn't get hurt), but I hope you still enjoy! I feel like this idea has been done a few times so I hope it's not too repetitive!! Also I am not medically inclined in the slightest so if the details are wrong for anything, please just go with it hahaha. As always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

He made it through the first night, then the next, and the one after that.

It was almost unbelievable. While you kept a brave face for Ellie, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay, the fact that Joel was still there with you felt almost too good to be true—not that you were complaining, not one bit.

Night after night, you would lie beside him, simply watching him. When Ellie succumbed to fitful bouts of sleep, you made sure to keep his coat tucked under his chin, preserving his warmth as he lay unconscious on the mattress. With your flashlight aimed at his torso, you checked for any signs of movement, or rather, the ceasing of it, until you eventually succumbed to sleeping yourself. After the flashlight inevitably died after the second night, you resorted to placing a delicate hand on his chest, under his coat, feeling for the rise and fall of his shallow breaths.

Most of your conversations with him—conversations that felt more like monologues—happened when Ellie was either asleep or out collecting snow for Callus. Initially, it was to offer comfort during those brief moments of consciousness—the occasional groan of pain or the utterance of your name. Eventually, when he fell completely unconscious, talking to him became a source of comfort purely for yourself.

You'd ramble on about just about anything that came to mind, mindful of your volume to avoid waking or alerting Ellie. It began with small talk and general comments about how cold it was and how you hoped he was warm enough. To pass the time, you'd share some of the less corny jokes from Ellie's pun book, and then you began telling him about your life before the outbreak: your family, your occupation, and your hobbies. For some reason, it all spilled out, and there ended up being more words spoken between you than before he was injured. For whatever reason, whether that was because you did not have his hardened expression aimed at you while you spoke for once, you found it really easy to open up to him, and you could only hope that he could hear you somehow and that he'd know you and Ellie were still there, waiting for him.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was how nurses felt before the outbreak. Did they talk to their comatose patients, hoping their voice was enough to guide them back to the land of the living, to the ones they loved?

You hoped that was the case for Joel, even if you couldn't fathom being a reason for him to live, no matter how desperately you needed him.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

On the fourth day, sunlight streamed through the overhead windows, gently nudging you awake. Your forehead was pressed against Joel's coat, your hand still resting on his chest, feeling him breathe. As you glanced up, you noticed his head leaning towards yours, a mix of pain and contentment etched on his typically stoic face. A faint smile crossed your lips at the first sight of his subtle reaction.

With a sigh of relief, you slowly sat up, withdrawing your hand from his chest.

On the other side of Joel, Ellie was still fast asleep, nestled as close to him as possible on the mattress. A frown creased your brow as realisation dawned upon you: none of you had eaten properly in days, rationing the minimal scraps you had, just in case Joel woke up and, undoubtedly, felt hunger. The truth was, surviving purely on those scraps and melted snow alone wouldn't last much longer.

Letting out a small sigh, you approached Ellie, kneeling beside her and softly calling her name before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to wake her. "Ellie? Hey, Ellie?"

She woke with a start, glancing around in momentary disorientation before her eyes met yours. Her gaze quickly shifted to Joel. "Is he okay?"

You hummed, "He's doing as well as he can right now. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," she murmured, laying back down and looking as exhausted as you felt.

You reached for your bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a piece of jerky that looked to have seen better days. You let out a small sigh and held it out for Ellie, who narrowed her eyes at you and took it before breaking it in half and holding one piece out for you.

"I'm good," you assured her with a wave of your hand, and you watched as Ellie reluctantly lowered her arm after a few moments. Instead, she shuffled closer to the mattress and laid the jerky on top of Joel's coat, which made you smile slightly.

Ellie continued chewing quietly for a moment before raising her hand and laying the back of it on Joel's forehead. "Holy fuck. He's like a furnace."

You were no doctor, but you were sure that just having a coat draped over him wouldn't raise his temperature that much, especially in the blistering cold of winter. You frowned, placing your own hand on his forehead and retracting it almost instantly. Sweat was forming at his brow, and using your very little medical knowledge from the medical dramas you used to consume before the outbreak, you realised he had a fever.

With quick speed, you lifted the coat off his lower stomach, lifted his shirt, and examined the wound that you had the displeasure of stitching up all those days ago, realising almost immediately that something looked off. The skin around it was scorched red, swollen, and oozing pus, something that you were unable to see last night with no flashlight.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, knowing it was infected and realising that it was more than likely caused by the bacteria-infested needle you had used so hastily to patch him up.

Ellie sat up, watching you with concern. "What? What is it?"

"The wound is infected," you sighed, sitting back on your heels and trying to think of the best course of action. "Okay, I'm going to search the other houses to see if any of them have any sort of antibiotic."

Ellie nodded, sitting up. "Okay, let's go."

You shook your head. "I go. You stay here, with Joel."'

Her mouth opened, her stubborn attitude ready to argue with you, but you simply shook your head once more. "Someone has to watch him, Ellie. If he wakes up and needs help and no one's here, he'll..." You trail off, and Ellie's fight seems to wane considerably at the sight of your sadness. You clear your throat and reach towards the weapon lying beside the staircase. "Take Joel's rifle. Anything goes south down here; you take care of it, alright?"

She takes it, nodding, her eyes falling to the slow rise of Joel's chest as she asks, "What if you don't come back?"

You were speechless for a moment; for some reason, you didn't even consider that a possibility. You were only going to search some of the other houses, not even going too far, but there was still the possibility that the raiders were still hanging around waiting for you all. That, or infected.

"I will," is your simple response.

It's not enough for Ellie. "You don't know that."

"I have to," you state, and she looks up at you. "I have to come back, Ellie. I took this job for a reason, and... I'm not leaving you behind."

Your eyes flitter to Joel's unconscious form.

"Either of you."

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚, '"Where the hell did you go?"

The search for medicine in the abandoned houses near the garage where you, Ellie and Joel had taken refuge proved utterly futile. Exiting each house empty-handed drained the last remnants of optimism from your body.

However, a glimmer of determination emerged when you found yourself tailgating a white rabbit through a clearing into the snowy woods between two houses. With the smallest spark of fight left in you, you raised your rifle and focused on at least securing a substantial meal for yourself and Ellie today.

Yet, as the woods were entirely blanketed in snow, your search was already compromised. Nevertheless, you kept your feet moving, aware that any pause could cause your knees to buckle, making it a struggle to find the strength to stand again.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, the chill blistering your skin as you narrowed your eyes in search of the elusive creature. "Where the hell did you go?"

Taking a few more steps, you heard the familiar squeaking resume as you approached a log. The rabbit seemed to have burrowed itself in the snow behind it in an attempt to protect itself, and you did your best to move quietly to avoid startling it. Fate, however, had other plans. A few twigs snapped in the near distance, and the creature bolted once more.

Turning your head to the source of the noise, your blood ran cold. Two men were facing you, their rifles prominent in their hands, though not raised. Their eyes were fixed on you as they took a step forward, the shorter one leading the taller.

Although you couldn't recognise them as the raiders who attacked you, Joel, and Ellie days ago, you weren't naive. You understood the dangers posed by any desperate man.

In an instant, you dove behind a tree, raising your rifle and aiming it towards them, cautiously glancing out to keep an eye on their movements. "Don't come any closer."

From the shadows, the shorter man with short, ginger hair, barely visible at the top of his head, raised a hand to halt his friend. "Easy, there; I'm sure we can all work this out. We aren't here to hurt you; quite the opposite, actually."

"I don't care what you're here for; walk away or I shoot," you called, squeezing the rifle in your hand, finding it a comfort. You'd feel much more reassured with Joel there, but you're sorely reminded of your predicament. "And I never miss."

Silence followed your warning, and you cautiously looked out, seeing them both still standing there. The shorter man seemed more relaxed than the taller one. He had his hands raised in surrender, and his gun had been dropped to the snow-covered ground. The taller man, wearing a beanie, still held his gun, but in a loose grip.

"Just...just hear me out for a second," the shorter man began, nodding at you in an attempt to calm you. He noticed your attention focused on his friend's gun and turned his head towards him while keeping most of his body facing you. "James, drop the gun."

James eyed the shorter man wearily, but ultimately he did as he was told. Your shoulders loosened considerably, though you kept your gun raised in warning, your finger resting on the trigger.

The shorter man looked back at you, his lips quirking slightly at the edges in a way that unsettled you. "See? We truly aren't here to cause you any harm. My name is David, and this is my friend, James."

You bit back a snarky comment about not giving a damn, and feeling assured enough that you had the upper hand now, being the only one holding your weapon, you stepped out from behind the tree. David's eyes narrowed slightly as he took you in, but a smile settled on his lips soon after.

"You out here all alone?"

You visibly stiffened, tensing your finger on the trigger, and David laughed a little as he spoke. "Easy, now. Just having a conversation is all. You're looking a bit worse for wear. You been out here long?"

"A few hours," you responded honestly, before pausing just a fraction too long. "My whole group has. In fact, they should be on their way back here right now."

David quirked his eyebrow, sounding disbelieving as he asked, "How many of you are there?"

"Enough." You responded, glaring at him, but this only caused him to smile unnervingly towards you again.

"So you're travelling with a big group, huh? Yeah, me and James come from a big group too." He looked towards his friend and nodded. "Yeah, we have a settlement a couple miles from here. Nothing too fancy, just a little village, but it's safe—you'd have a roof over your head, some extra clothes on your back, and new boots if you needed them. You could come and check it out to see if it's good enough for you and your friends; it would be nice to see some fresh faces."

You narrowed your eyes at his offer. "Why aren't you there right now?"

David paused. "I'm sure you know all too well how quickly food runs out in big groups like ours. I guess that's why you were chasing that little bunny so carefully. Yeah, we know the feeling. The desperation. It's hard, right? Well, truth be told, we've been struggling with keeping everyone comfortably fed over this harsh winter, but James has been scouting this big buck for a couple of days, and we've come to bring it back to our people."

You nodded slowly, your stomach twisting at the thought of having something big enough to feed you, Joel, and Ellie comfortably. You could kill them both and go looking for it, but then you'd know you'd truly lost your humanity; you were not yet depraved. "Maybe you should focus on keeping your own people safe before trying to recruit new ones."

"You could help us." David suggested, and you didn't miss the way James looked at him. "As you said, you never miss a shot. James and I are pretty rusty ourselves. But if you helped us, we'd be able to feed our people and yours, or you could take half the buck for yourselves if you truly don't want to give us a chance. Fair trade."

Nerves bubbled within your stomach, and you cleared your throat, tilting your head. "What's to say you won't shoot me dead the second we find it?"

"That wouldn't be very smart, would it?" He smiled. "Not when your group will be showing up soon; James and I'd be outnumbered in seconds."

You breathed out nervously, not knowing what to do and knowing, damn well, no one was coming for you. "Yeah, you would."

David laughed. "So, we have a deal?"

"Back at your village, do you have medicine?" You found yourself asking suddenly, noticing the way James' eyes widened partially, but David remained cool. "For infections and such?"

David hummed. "We do. Someone hurt?"

You nodded, saying nothing else about it.

"Well, then," David sighed. "Tell you what, how about this? James, you head back home and speak to Howard. Tell him you need two bottles of penicillin and a syringe."

James looked at David with an expression of what looked to be confusion and unsureness.

"This isn't code, James. Do as I said," David continued before he turned to you. "You and I will keep hunting for this buck while James gets that medicine for you; then, when he gets back, you can decide whether you want to follow us or not, alright?"

You aimed your rifle towards James as he looked back at you.

"That works." You watched as James leaned to reach for his rifle and fired a warning shot beside his feet, sending the snow flying. "Leave that there. You can find it when I'm gone."

"Listen to the lady, James," David instructed, and James straightened back up, taking a few steps back until he began running through the woods back towards the clearing that you had previously come through yourself.

David met your gaze once more, smiling softly. "Well, let's go find that buck."

©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.

[lalal-99]

of new friendship {h.j.} | track 3

©June 2023, March 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 3.8k

Synopsis: The one where you go to a Jackson Wang party.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: As promised, this chapter is much shorter than the last. The next will, again, have 6k, but after that, chapters will be shorter (I think). Also, I wrote the most angsty and heartbreaking chapter yesterday and I can't wait to post it when it's due. Hope you enjoy this :)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

You couldn’t remember the last party you had been to.

A real party, with crates of alcohol, loud music, and drunk people, that was.

Throughout your early teen years it had been a regular part of your week. Getting drunk, befriending strangers and making mistakes. You left no party within reach unattended, no matter the people or their willingness to provide alcohol to minors. You had figured out ways to always get what you wanted in the end. And what you wanted at that time was to drink away any and every one of your brain cells.

With a little luck it would be the very one that made you remember the grief of losing a parent.

Whenever you told people about those days, it was as an explanation to why you rarely drank now. Most people also thought Jisung had helped you overcome that part of your life. It would have fit right into their version of a romantic love story—girl sad, girl meets boy, boy fixes girl. Happy end.

Most people couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jisung, like yourself, was plagued by his very own share of suffocating pain. And he too wanted to forget, desperately. In meeting you, he found someone who was right as troubled, maybe even more so. Thus, a toxic relationship formed, the two of you soon becoming the life of every party you attended.

Any party you went to, you became the centre of. Be it a friend’s party, a friend’s sibling’s party, or a stranger’s party one of your mutual friends had heard about god-knows-where. Surrounded by a crowd of people, both your age and older, you became the main source of entertainment. Making people laugh and providing them with memories they wouldn’t forget. Because which other two 14-year-olds could keg-stand and funnel like grown-ups?

You weren’t proud of it, but at the same time, it was as much part of your story as everything before and after. The darkest part, filled with pain, rage, and the simple desire to forget, yes. But a part never less.

Those times were long gone; life had caught up to you at some point.

Despite your party-animal-past, a shiver ran down your back when the frat house appeared on the horizon.

People gathered on the porch, on the stairs leading up to it, and on the lawn, smoking, drinking, and making out. Whatever stereotypical frat-party scenario you could have come up with played out right in front of your eyes.

You lingered for a moment, watching the scene unfold. Unsure how to approach the evening or if you even still wanted to. Hadn’t it been for Yuqi taking matters into her own two hands and dragging you inside... Well, you would have turned around and chosen the safety of your room instead.

Your partying days sure had passed.

When you entered the house, a thick veil of warmth and sweat hit you, a breath of nausea taking over your being. A sea of people was stumbling from room to room, up the stairs or towards you, in a desperate search for fresh air. If you planned on staying here for the next few hours, you’d need a drink. Or five.

Yuqi turned towards you, excitement evident on her face, “Wanna look for Jisung?”

“Drinks first!” you yelled back, her nod telling you she had understood. Surprising, seeing someone had cranked the bass right up to 11.

With your hand in hers, Yuqi pulled you through the crowd until you reached the kitchen. It was less crowded than the rest of the house, meaning you had a safe haven you could come to if things got too much. Judging from the tension in your back not even five minutes in, you’d need it at some point.

You didn’t pay too much attention to the people around you. The couple making out on the counter or the group chatting on the other side of the room. Instead, your gaze focused on the beers in the ice-filled sink. A sigh of relief escaped you as the cold, bitter liquid ran down your throat. The first half of the bottle, you emptied in that initial gulp.

You must have needed this more than you noticed.

“Impressive,” Yuqi praised you, her lips wrapping around her own bottle for a less eager sip. “Remind me never to face you in a drink-off.”

“Trust me, my drink-off days are far behind me.”

Your voice startled one of the people standing by the side, a familiar face snapping towards you. “Y/N?”

You found Hwasa leaning against the counter, a surprised expression taking over her features.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Your roomie had told you she’d be going out tonight too. Although you hadn’t expected her to be at the same party you had been dragged into. Pulling you into a hug, a few of her locks tickled your nose. “Jisung got invited by an old friend.”

“And you brought my new favourite person! Hi!” Hwasa greeted Yuqi with another bone-crushing hug. To an outsider, it must have looked like you hadn’t seen each other for years rather than yesterday.

“Don’t call me your favourite person, or I will cry.”

The smile on Yuqi’s face spread from one ear to the other as she let go of your roommate. After a few shorts hours spent with her, she had opened up to you about how difficult it usually was for her to make friends. Similar to Jisung, her quirky persona more times than not scared people off. Befriending not one but two people within the first week on campus, her happiness was understandable.

“So, who’s the mystery friend that invited you here? Wait, don’t tell me! I’m gonna guess. Is it Chris? He knows, like, everyone.” You shook your head, never having heard that name in your life. Scratching her chin with two perfectly manicured fingernails, Hwasa pondered. “Matthew? He’s been around for a while.” Again, you didn’t know who she was talking about.

This game could have taken forever. There were about 300 people who could have invited you, judging from the crowd inside this house. Though the fun was cut short when the door to the kitchen opened, and a familiar face entered the scene. Just like you remembered, he was followed by a crowd of eager people. Ever the centre of everything.

“No way! Am I dreaming? Y/N! I can’t believe you came.”

You startled when he pulled you into a hug, wrapping your arms around him with reluctance. You hadn’t seen him in over two years, and this was how he decided to greet you? A hug? Thinking about it, you had probably hugged him only a handful of times in your lifetime. Your birthday, maybe. Or Christmas.

“Hi, Jackson.”

He let go of you, momentarily staying in your proximity before stepping back.

He looked good, face clean-shaven and hair pulled back by a baseball cap. His clothes told the same story they always did. Rich guy with swagger, Gucci earrings somehow accentuating his baggy clothing. Jackson, for all you remembered, had always dressed like this. Drenching his aura in handsome.

“How is everyone? How’s the fam?”

“Everyone is perfect. Healthy, happy.”

Despite your best efforts to sound nonchalant, you couldn’t help the undertone of spite. Jackson seemed to understand the secret message, nodding as his lips pressed into a thin line.

You wanted to be nice to him as you were aware he was a good person at heart. But after everything, you couldn’t help being a little bitter still.

Hwasa—oblivious to a fault—interrupted the awkward shift this conversation had taken and you silently thanked the heavens. “You know each other?”

“What? You do, too?” Jackson replied, pointing between the two of you, ever the Spiderman-meme. “How?”

“We’re roommates.”

Emptying your first bottle, you pulled a second one out of the sink, opening it on the marble of the kitchen island. A party trick from back in your heyday you never quite unlearned.

“What? That’s crazy!” Jackson seemed genuinely surprised. He pulled his baseball cap off his head and repositioned it over a few loose strands. “Small world.”

“How about you?” you threw the question back to them.

“We’re—” Jackson cut himself off, eyes meeting Hwasa’s as they toasted their bottles. A quick wink, and he finished his contextually unbelievable description of their relationship. “Friends.”

Hwasa choked on her drink, laughing at his words as if it was the funniest thing she had heard all year. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

You remembered Yuqi, who was leaning against the counter beside you, perfectly quiet as she listened. Probably the quietest you had seen her since you met her. And that included the courses you visited together.

“Fine. We used to hook up. Happy?” Jackson corrected his previous statement. The wink he had sent Hwasa made way more sense now.

“Almost. You seem to have forgotten the part in which you fell hopelessly in love with me.”

Your eyes focused on the two of them. Could Hwasa be the girl? No way! That would have been too big of a coincidence.

“Okay, you are blowing that way out of proportion.” Chuckling at her words, Jackson positioned himself so that he was now facing her. “I had a little crush on you.”

“Exactly. What I said.”

Huffing, Jackson shook his head, pulling Hwasa into a side hug of sorts. Good thing Wheein wasn’t around to witness this flirtatious moment. Her absence explained why Hwasa even let someone come close to her like this. Her girlfriend’s presence seemed to put her a little on edge. Like Hwasa was in constant hope she wouldn’t do something to offend Wheein. Or, God forbid, make her think she was anything but faithful.

“We broke things off, and now—”

“We’re besties,” Hwasa ended his statement, patting his chest as they smiled at each other.

It couldn’t have been silent for more than five seconds before Jackson unwrapped his arm from his bestie. He fetched himself a fresh bottle out of the sink.

“Anyways,” throwing you and Yuqi a kind smile, Jackson turned to his friends. They were still gathered behind him, talking over each other with loud laughter. “It was nice seeing you again. I hope you and Sungie have a great night. Let me know if you need anything.”

Making his way out of the room, he left you to yourselves, sipping on your bottle like you hadn’t just emptied the last one. “Good luck finding him if you need anything. Jackson won’t be in the same room for longer than a minute.”

There was no need to tell you that.

At every party he had ever thrown, Jackson had always been nowhere and everywhere, all at once. You distinctly remembered searching for an hour once before eventually finding him where you had started. How he did it, no idea, but he sure was a pro at it.

“Let me get back to my friends. I’ll see you later?”

Nodding, you turned towards Yuqi, who had about 100 questions dancing on the tip of her tongue. The second you were on your own, she erupted like a waterfall.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” As if she would buy that. There was no way you didn’t know what she was talking about. Your body language had been very see-through throughout that whole interaction. Arms crossed, lips tight, brows cocked.

“Don’t play me, bitch!” A term of endearment, you had learned. “There was so much tension, I thought I was in Riverdale for a sec.”

You laughed at her words, shaking your head. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Alright.” Yuqi accepted, but not before getting at least one last statement out in the open. “He’s smoking hot, but whatever he did to you, I would not want to be him.”

The two of you left the kitchen on a seemingly impossible quest to find your boyfriend. You forced your way through the crowd until you reached a less dense section of the room. Only then you noticed a group of people a little further back, right by a window.

You motioned for Yuqi to follow you as you approached the couches. Your boyfriend’s mop of brown hair remained the centre of your vision.

Jisung was deep in conversation with a boy beside him while Felix listened to them. Apart from them, a handful of other boys spread over the couches. The ones that didn’t fit, sat comfortable on chairs. Seeing Jisung in a sea of people he didn’t know, talking like it’s all he was born to do, you almost didn’t want to intrude.

“Bro! Babe Alert!”

The boy next to Jisung was the first to notice you approaching. It took a lot in you to push your amusement at his obliviousness down.

As Jisung’s head followed his friend’s gaze, he gasped out a loud “Yah!” before giving the boy next to him a slap against the bulky arm.

“Dude, that’s my girlfriend.”

“Oops.”

All eyes were on you as you waved at the group. You introduced yourself while sitting on the armrest beside your boyfriend. Yuqi joined your other side, and introduced herself before leaning against you.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Jisung confessed, hand coming to your thigh, squeezing it in adoration.

“You are?”

When you looked at Jisung, you noticed the guy beside him, eyes threatening to bulk out of their sockets. Staring at Yuqi, no less. After a few seconds, he realised he’d been caught and blushed. By pulling Felix into a conversation, he hoped to cover up his interest in your friend.

The girl in question was too deep in her interaction with one of the boys on the chairs to notice. He soon offered her half of his seat, which she accepted while discussing his choice of—footwear? She really seemed to know her way around the closet.

“Yes. Because someone didn’t believe you were real.” Jisung’s eyes darted towards a boy on the other couch whose blonde tresses were pulled into a loose ponytail. “What do you say now, Hyunjin? My hot girlfriend is real.”

“That’s how you describe me to people? Hot?” You didn’t know whether to be mad or flattered.

“Just so we’re clear,” the boy, Hyunjin, chimed in, “it wasn’t the hot part I didn’t believe. It was the whole concept of a girlfriend I was questioning. But you are real, apparently. So I owe Felix ten bucks.”

Laughing at Hyunjin’s cluelessness, your boyfriend couldn’t hide his amusement. “Felix already met her, stupid! You got pranked good, dude.”

Hyunjin’s jaw was on the floor at the new discovery, gaze dramatically cutting to the boy in question.

As the two of them exchanged money and ridicule, you caressed Jisung’s thigh in adoration. A sense of pride filled you at how he had somehow already found a way out of his shell. University seemed to have a positive impact on him, the first week progressing smoother than you had anticipated. Regardless of how he made so many friends this early on, you were glad he did.

“So, who are your friends?”

Gaze wandering through the circle, Jisung introduced the boys one after another. Starting from the one sitting next to Yuqi.

“That’s Seungmin. He’s an English major.”

The boy conversed with Yuqi as though they had known each other for years. He had puppy-brown hair, parted in the middle and cut even on all sides in a fashionable bowl-cut. Two strands of light-blonde framed his face, rounding off an otherwise innocent appearance. His clothes were simple, t-shirt and cargo pants hanging loose on his lean shape.

“Next to him is Jeongin. He’s studying to become—something biology. Honestly, I didn’t understand what he does. It’s all about mitochondria and other boring stuff.”

A little more on the shy side, Jeongin followed Seungmin and Yuqi’s dialogue instead of creating his own. Like Seungmin, he clothed casual. Standing out was his thick pink hair, which contrasted his initial timid demeanour. A something-biology student with pink hair? Very eye-catching.

“On the couch, that’s Hyunjin, Minho and Chris. Hyunjin is studying art history, and Minho majors in dancing. Chris is a Music major.”

Hyunjin, the one who got pranked out of ten bucks—by Felix, out of all people—was clad in a more fashionable outfit. His grey jeans he had paired with a white button-up, a multitude of jewellery decorating his fingers and neck. Minho wore his hair in a lavender tone, a tight-fitting shirt and black leather pants. Showing off his very toned legs—a dancer, indeed. And Chris. Well, he liked his arms the size of logs, apparently. They were an unexpected contrast to his cutesy laugh, nose scrunching up as he joked with Minho.

“And the boy who can’t keep his eyes off Yuqi, that’s Changbin. Sports major. If you tell him your weight, he will send you a video of him benching it.”

“Yah, I don’t do that for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky,” Changbin interjected. Thankfully, he had only overheard the second part of Jisung’s description.

Ignoring his friend’s words, Jisung concluded his introductory round. “And you already know Felix. He’s studying to become the best teacher in the whole wide world.”

Felix ignored the mocking tone in his friend’s voice, only one of the reasons rendering him perfect for a teaching position. He stood calm whenever needed, not a word taken out of proportion. That much you had already learned from hanging out with him a handful of times. It wasn’t hard to believe, he handled children the same way he did his drunk friends.

“I’m glad you have so many friends with majors now. Maybe, they can help you decide on yours.”

Rolling his eyes at the subject you somehow couldn’t let go, Jisung pulled you from the armrest onto his lap. A tiny yelp escaped your throat, his action surprising. The two of you usually didn’t exchange PDA like that. His advances, therefore, you understood as a sign of the amount of alcohol he had already consumed.

“You will never let this go, will you?”

“Not until I know you’re not just going to university because I’m going.”

You had been gifted with so much drive to go to uni, study, become a manager. Sometimes, you forgot that some people weren’t as lucky to know what they wanted to do with their lives. Your boyfriend was one of those people.

Sure Jisung had hobbies like singing, sports and the occasional guitar session. But other than that, he was pretty clueless about his future. The two of you used to joke about it. Kidding how all the ambition and focus had gone to his sister and once he was born, there was nothing left of it. An innocent joke for as long as it hadn’t been reality.

Now that you were here and for the months leading up to your move, the joke was underlined with more seriousness.

For the longest time, Jisung hadn’t been sure he even wanted to go to university. He had debated going to work right away. Learn something handy, like electric work or nursing. That he didn’t even know a direction to go in didn’t make the decision any easier. In the end, he figured that while you were studying to go into management, he might as well join you. If anything, it could potentially give him an overview of possible fields of work.

After many discussions about your joined future and his role in it, he seemed to be over it. He wanted to explore his options—that’s what he had told you when you two enrolled. And yes, you were proud of him for getting his grades up in the last year of High School. Even if only to share this adventure with you. Though you still needed him to be a little more serious about it. Otherwise, university was four years of him exploring, ending in no degree. Four years wasted, in your eyes.

“I just want to make sure you’re thinking about it.”

“Right now, the only thing I’m thinking about, is taking you to one of the empty bedrooms upstairs.”

His breath fanned over your neck as he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose all over your skin, his fingers gracing over your exposed hip. You hadn’t even noticed how your shirt had ridden up before his careful touch. Repositioning yourself to sit sideways on his lap, you bit your lip at his suggestion. Your hand came around his neck, fingers running through the hair at the back of it.

“We just got here,” you chuckled as his arms wrapped around your thighs.

“So?”

“Let’s enjoy the party for a bit, yeah?” Jisung knew a final decision when he heard one, a pout overtaking his face. Good thing you had already taken measures to soften the blow. Years of being with each other gave you the confidence to play your plan as you intended. “I might know a way to make the wait worth our while.”

You smirked as you retrieved a round object from your pocket and pushed it into Jisung’s hand on your thigh. A kiss to his cheek concealed your action, his eyes widening once he realised what you had handed him. A remote control. And not just any old remote control. Connecting the dots, Jisung soon understood that it controlled the matching vibrator inside you. The very same one you had bought for his most recent birthday.

Happy Birthday, indeed, and to both of you.

Judging from his expression, you figured your plan to make his patience worthwhile erected the awaited reaction. Then again, that could have also been him pocking you from below.

Next Chapter >>>

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[mamaspeckles]

maybe a story about vivas and barbs first time having sex together, but like with barb being expierienced and taking the lead and viva just losing her virginity to barb?? pretty please mama🙏🙏

hope its okay because i love your writing youre one of my fav accs here

OKAY BYE LOVE YA

Of course I can bebé!! Here is your viva x Barb NSFW story with a milkshake on the side!🧋 thank you so much hon!!! I also do apologize if I got sloppy and lazy at the end I got sleep😭 I will do better next time I promise!!!!

Viva x Barb NSFW one-shot!

CHARACTERS ARE 20+

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Viva enthusiastically nodded, swallowing the ball of nervousness as her body began to grow hot with the lustful mixture of excitement as the queen of rock slowly began working her way down.

The pop trolls stomach tightened with anticipation, her excitement basically dominating all of her nerves. Barb started to move slowly, it was a light and gentle touch at first. But shifted rather quickly- barbs grey fingers glided across viva’s soft pink skin in slow and sensual manner.

Barb’s fingers left the desperate trolls body, but quickly substituted by an even greater sensation. her lips and warm tongue. Barb began to roughly kiss viva, sending her into a sexual spiral, all of her nerves had finally given into the obvious arousal and need for Barb. Viva’s tongue had met with barb’s quickly but tentatively. But before viva could think barb had already pulled away from the kiss and trailed them down viva’s body. Her muscles tightened as barb kissed her way down the trolls body.

Barb had devilishly trailed down to viva’s pussy, the warmth and wetness causing the rock troll to instantly go into a predatory state- her lips had found the source of the pulsating, soothing it with each gentle suck.

Barb’s eyes widened for a moment before they began to sink into the back of her head as the taste of viva’s sweetness enslaved her thoughts.

She placed peppered kisses onto Viva’s sensitive puffy clit, while her fingers forced into her lover’s tight hole- viva’s face contorted into a crazed glare as her body jolted and tensed with each pump and suck.

“You like this pretty girl? Fuck if only you could see the look on your fucking face~…”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I know! I know!!! It’s kinda bad and I do apologize I just gotten very tired and less motivated at the end so it’s not that good or long!! I can do better don’t worry😭

[rhaenyra-storms]

Jon Snow and female reader sitting by the fire, each doing their own thing (sharpening weapons, reading letters, doing embroidery/sewing) just enjoying their company

Jon is definitely always in desperate need of some calm in his life. He has always been involved in fights, wars and the violence of this world seems to be chasing him all the time.

You are definitely the source of his calmness and relaxation. All the time actually. He can only relax when he's with you, like now, sitting by the fire and just enjoying each other's company. He is sharpening his sword while you are reading some letters, sometimes updating him on what the lords are reporting to you or him. It's also calming for him when you read out his letters to him.

Sometimes he glances over to you, seeing your face illuminated by the fire and he can't help himself but smile at the sight in front of him. Your eyes are following the lines on the letter and some of your hair is falling into your face. He slowly reaches out to you, brushing the strands away and letting his hand rest on your cheek then. "You're so beautiful, my love," he smiles and it gives you a warm feeling all over.

You look up at him, giving him a smile as well. His face is also painted a light shade of orange by the fire in the room. He looks good in every light. Even after battle, with blood on his face and dirt clinging to every part of his skin, he always manages to look like the most handsome person in the realm.

“I don’t know how there aren’t more marriage proposals arriving. All the ladies should be after you,” you answer, a grin on your face. Jon let’s put a soft laugh and shakes his head just slightly. He isn’t interested in anyone but you. And he could sit here for a hundred more years, listening to you read out letters to him and he would listen closely to every single one.

“Let’s hope you won’t read one of those out to me anytime soon. Now, I think you weren’t finished with this one,” he reminds you, pointing to the letter while he goes back to sharpening his sword. “But you can maybe keep your eyes open for a marriage proposal from me to you,” he says like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

But you’re sure the heat in your cheeks is not coming from the cozy warmth in the room then.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hungry eyes

PAIRING | Husband!Bucky Barnes x Husband!Tony Stark

WORD COUNT | 1.1K

SUMMARY | Growing up, neither Bucky nor Tony ever thought they would get married, but it was an absolute no-brainer when they found love in each other. Now that they're on their honeymoon together, they cannot stop touching and loving each other, wanting to be close to one another for as long as possible.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Age gap, established relationship, honeymoon, use of nicknames (Sugar)

SMUT | Porn without plot, top!Bucky Barnes, bottom!Tony Stark, Bucky has no refractory period, shower sex, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, hair pulling, spanking, use of a butt plug, unprotected anal sex (wrap it before you tap it!), implied oral (M receiving), multiple orgasms

A/N | This is my first attempt at writing for WinterIron, so I would love to hear your feedback. From here on out, I will also accept requests for these two, so please don't hesitate to let me know if you have any! This story has been proofread, but any and all mistakes are still my own. 💙

EVENTS Masterlist | @fandombingo | Tony x Bucky Masterlist | @lgbtqbingo | Honeymoon Masterlist | @mcukinkbingo | Shower sex Masterlist | @winterironevents WIB #R2022 | Dirty talk

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | WinterIron Masterlist

Tony looks back on the day he married his now-husband, Bucky, with fond memories as he steps into the shower in their second house in Italy, where they stay for the next three weeks. He slept in while Bucky decided to go for a run, but he couldn't seem to fall asleep again. Instead, he decided to go shower in the hopes of his husband joining him - he didn't work a plug into himself for nothing.

As the warm water cascades down his cream-colored skin, Tony turns to pick out some music. However, before he gets the chance, his large, dark-haired husband crowds in on him in the shower cabin with a smirk and an appreciative look. Sweaty from his run, he needs Tony all the same.

"Hmm, you're a sight for sore eyes like this, Sugar," Bucky groans as he pulls Tony against his chest, his lips placing soft kisses on the skin where his shoulder morphs into his neck. Tony's head lolls to the side, giving Bucky the space he wants.

"How was your run?" Tony asks in a breathy voice as Bucky's vibranium hand wanders over his husband's side and up to his chest, where he finds the very sensitive nipples he can't get enough of and his flesh hand is buried in the curls on Tony's head. The gasp Tony lets out when Bucky pinches Tony's nipple with his fingers goes straight to his cock, making it twitch in excitement.

"Are you sure you want to talk about my run right now?" Bucky asks in his deep, rumbling voice, but Tony shakes his head to the best of his ability.

"N-no, I w-want you, Daddy," Tony croaks out, and Bucky smiles. Bucky has barely touched him, yet he's already a goner for him. Tony's cock is hard as a rock when Bucky wraps his vibranium hand around it, and Tony lets out a content sound as he slowly works it up and down his shaft, Bucky rutting his own against Tony's ass.

"You like that, huh? You like it when Daddy plays with your delicious, sensitive cock?" Bucky asks, but Tony is too far gone to provide him with a proper answer to his question. Between the warmth of the shower and the feeling of his husband wrapped around his cock, he is fully content right now.

"Yeah? And do you want Daddy to play with this deliciously tight ass of yours too?" Bucky asks, allowing Tony to push his ass back against him in response. Bucky lets his flesh hand glide down from Tony's hair down his back and between his cheeks while his metal one is still working Tony up and down slowly. Not enough to have him cum yet, but more than enough to have him near the edge.

"What's this? You really want to get fucked by Daddy, don't you? Such a desperate little slut for me, working yourself open without me knowing," Bucky tuts and a deep red shade covers Tony's cheeks and neck. Seeing his husband like this has Bucky almost on his knees for him because he goes crazy for the blush spreading across Tony’s beautiful, creamy skin.

With skilled fingers, Bucky slowly works out the plug from Tony's ass, taking his time not to hurt him. Tony seemed to have used plenty of lube, so it slides out without too much resistance, making Tony gasp when the gold metal plug slides out. The loss of the metal plug leaves him clenching around nothing, but his rim doesn't close - instead, it stays open precisely the way Bucky likes it.

"Hmm, you're doing so good for me, Sugar; now be a good boy and lean forward, so Daddy can fuck your ass like it's meant to be fucked," Bucky says through gritted teeth. Bucky grabs his cock with his flesh hand before pumping it up and down a couple of times, the vibranium one gripping Tony's hip to ensure he stays still.

He carefully feeds his cock into Tony's ass, making sure not to go too fast as he does so. With slow, shallow movements, he works it further and further in until his hips meet his husband's. A loud groan escapes Bucky's chest as he looks at the way they fit together perfectly, taking his sweet time to pull out before slamming his cock into his husband in one stroke.

The sound coming from Tony's lips is downright pornographic as his husband hits his prostate in that very same thrust, his fists clenching where they're leaning against the wall. While Bucky clenches his teeth at the feeling of the tight heat enveloping his cock, he can't stop himself from grunting too, his orgasm nearing quickly.

"God, such an easy slut for me, letting me use this hole whenever I want," Bucky tells Tony with a smirk, and the sound of skin slapping against wet skin intensifies with every thrust. Tony's jaw is slack as the moans tumbling from his lips become uncontrollable, his knees starting to buckle as the pleasure intensifies.

"B-Bucky-" Tony pleads, letting him know he's close. With a loud smack on his ass, Bucky corrects him - Tony knows better than that about what to call his husband right now.

"What did you just call me?" Bucky says sharply as he pulls Tony close, grabbing his throat so they're standing chest-to-back. Bucky's pace doesn't even falter for a second, and he looks over Tony's shoulder to see his husband's cock bobbing up and down, neglected and flushed red, as he's desperately close to the edge.

"M sorry, Daddy," Tony finally manages to say, earning him a 'good boy' in response. Tony goes wild for Bucky's praise, so he always uses it sparingly, wanting to keep it special for the other man.

"Cum with me, Sugar, fuck 'm close!" Bucky pants out as he speeds up even more as his orgasm is rapidly approaching, and he snakes an arm around Tony's waist to grab hold of Tony's cock, jerking it at the same speed as his thrusts.

"Daddy, please," Tony whines, and with a few more sloppy thrusts, Bucky can feel him clenching around his cock, milking him for all he's worth, as his cum shoots against the wall, followed by an uncontrollable moan. Not long after, Bucky cums, too, as his cum shoots deep into his husband, groaning as he does.

"That's it, Sugar, you're doin' so well for Daddy," Bucky praises him as he rides out both their orgasms. When he's done, he pulls out carefully, scooping out the cum that threatens to leak out and fucking it back into Tony with a loud squelch. Bucky hums appreciatively as he looks at his rim, which doesn't want to close, instead fluttering weakly.

"How about you put that beautiful mouth to some good use now, Sugar?" Bucky says with a wicked smile, and Tony immediately nods before sinking to his knees, ready to do as his husband asks. He wants to be his good boy, after all.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

soft hopelesslydevoted fic with cuddles perchance 👉👈

Yes. Yes. Yes. Absolutely. I challenged myself to see if I could write this scene without much dialogue to focus purely on the cuddling. I kind of cheated, because there's unspoken thought dialogue, but still.

(Also, sorry this isn't past tense, I'm getting back into writing present tense for some reason and I hope that's okay!)

-⚜- Completely -⚜-

TW: mention of past drug use and sobriety, suggestive themes

Image Sources: Left | Right | Lace | Bow

The door is locked. The window is open, with the soft, cool breeze sending the curtains dancing. The antique phonograph in the corner is bubbling out Frank Sinatra. “Allonge-toi ici avec moi. [Lay here with me.]” They do not speak again for an hour.

That hour belongs to Vincent, and so does the one after that. The days belong to him, full of standing at attention, walking, moving, killing, eating, breathing for his sake. So do the nights…all things belong to him. The kingdom of the High Table belongs to him. The meaning of the word “love” belongs to him. And Chidi belongs to him.

But such times as these are even more completely Vincent's than all others. Not just owned by him, but consumed by him, swallowed in him, without the smallest distraction. Chidi lays his whole weight over Vincent like a weighted blanket and Vincent’s arms go around his back, pulling him as close as possible. He is enfolded on every side. The canopy bed arches upwards around them, and Chidi reaches to pull the comforter over them both and form a warm, protective cave. In that warmth, Vincent snuggles into his neck and squeezes around his torso, and Chidi squeezes back. A tight, expressive hug that makes Vincent bite his lip with sheer affection. It’s easy to imagine that it would be frightening to be in Vincent’s clutches, at his seemingly limited mercy. But with Chidi, Vincent allows himself to be infinitely merciful, and Chidi never feels more safe than when his master has him completely.

By the way Vincent is breathing, long and slow, Chidi knows he feels safe too. Good. He needs it.

Vincent wore himself out, so today is a rest day, with no obligations of any kind. It’s been a whole week of being on his feet, networking, closing deals, chasing after the regional managers. He used to “partake” in order to push through it. But he’s been clean for a while now, and it makes him softer, it lets the demands of his body show through, it means he gets tired like any other human being. And Chidi makes sure he doesn’t have to push through any of that, because he deserves to rest. He’s doing so well with sobriety…Chidi thinks of that and kisses the tip of his nose.

Vincent’s pretty mouth spreads into a pretty, dimpled smile and Chidi can’t help kissing the dimples too, one by one. Devour me with that mouth, mon ange…Chidi doesn’t say it, doesn’t break the silence, but it’s conveyed nonetheless. The sweetness overwhelms Vincent and he blushes deeply, without even opening his eyes. He turns his head to catch Chidi’s lips with his own, before they can escape.

They’ll make love many times today, but this kiss is not about simple lust, even when Vincent’s tongue caresses his lips and pushes between his teeth. It’s about joining their bodies inside and out, so that there is no barrier between them. They are open to one another, open to rest and just be.

When they pull away, Vincent’s eyes open too. And this does not just mean that the lids are lifted. There is a willingness to meet Chidi’s gaze. He is not looking through that glassy veil of dissociation that so often separates them, he is looking right at Chidi, seeing him and allowing himself to be seen. I care for you, his eyes are saying. You’re very precious to me, and if anything came between us, I couldn’t take it. Please be gentle with me because of that. I’m so tired, and I need it so much.

And Chidi opens himself in kind, exposing his desperate, worshipful tenderness, his need to be commanded and cared for. It’s been a long week for him too. I live to serve you, to be gentle with you. You are my world, sir. Did I do things right? Did I please you, Vincent? In answer, Vincent’s hands rub along Chidi’s back, up to his neck and the base of his head, and then down again. He sighs contentedly. Yes. Vincent is happy with him.

Vincent is happy.

The world, then, is complete.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bungou stray dogs x Danganronpa

Atsushi's talent has always been the source of his suffering.

The Orphanage hated him for it, and Shibusawa loved it. Although that same talent got him out from both of their clutches.

Scouted by the top of the tops, Hopes Peak Academy.

He could hardly believe that such a prestigious academy wanted him to join them. It seemed too good to be true, and what do you know....it was.

Waking up at a desk in an empty classroom and being told to survive meant to kill someone and get away undetected.

Atsushi refused to kill anyone, but that doesn't mean everyone believed in that.

He should have died in the execution. But despite his injuries as he crashed down into the rubbish pit, he survived.

His talent mocked him, Atsushi didn't rejoin the others though. He was terrified, and so he ran and escaped.

Somewhere along the lines the Orphanage got ahold him, and back in the cage he went. Until they had enough of him again.

Atsushi wandered the streets, living on nothing but he didn't care. Because it was what a deserter like him deserved. He'd left everyone behind, the guilt ate him alive.

Than he joined the Armed Detective Agency.

And met someone he never thought he'd see again. Atsushi, ever the coward avoided him. He couldn't look him in the eye, couldn't hide his relief and his fear.

Everyone thought it was werid, to see Atsushi act so differently from the person they knew.

But everytime someone would ask, he'd bolt.

It came to ahead on a case, when the one Atsushi was desperate to avoid (but also afraid to ever leave again) broached the subject.

"Say Atsushi, how did I solve that case?" Asked Ranpo. Atsushi smiled "with your ability of course." Ranpo chuckles "ah but Atsushi, I don't have an ability, do I?"

Atsushi freezes as Ranpo carries on, as care free as ever. "So, how did I solve the case?"

And Atsushi knows its time. He knew after seeing Ranpo again he can't run any longer. Maybe he doesn't want too either.

"No... No you don't." Agrees Atsushi, hesitantly looking at Ranpo and to his suprise he's smiling back at him. It's soft, encouraging and kind and everything Atsushi doesn't deserve

"You did it with your talent, because you're... You're Ranpo Edgoawa. The Ultimate Detective." Ranpo nods "it's been a long time since I've heard that."

That, Atsushi can understand. Yokohama was not affected by the Tragedy. Probably due to the efforts of the Agency and Port Mafia.

But it still saw the damage, those with talents knew to hide them. Lest they remind everyone the danger they could cause. Abilities were already something people were cautious about.

"You know, I was really excited when I found we got a new member." Says Ranpo, looking out over the bridge.

"Someone else to bring me my snacks, but also because I had a hunch they were important." Ranpo's smile never wavered as he looked back at Atsushi.

"But I had no idea, it was my old friend."

Atsushi looks away, because that makes no sense. "How can you say that? After everything I've done, I left you! I left all you!"

He doesn't get it, he left Ranpo back at the Academy. He left him, how.. How can anyone look at him and see a friend?

Ranpo had always been there for Atsushi.

He'd examined the bodies while Atsushi stayed on look out, he taught him how to get through the trials and not panic under pressure.

He'd given Atsushi the first sweet he'd ever been allowed to have. And Atsushi left him to save himself.

A hand rests on his shoulder and Atsushi turns around. The smile on Ranpo's face is gone, replaced by a stern frown.

"Atsushi, everyone tried to kill you. If you showed you survived an execution, you would have been killed by them or the mastermind themselves." Ranpo shakes his head "did I wish you came back? Of course, but you couldn't have."

He smiles, kind and full of warmth. "You gave me everything I needed to survive, the last piece to unconver the mastermind and I can't thank you enough for that."

Atsushi looks at him in shock.

"I... I helped you?"

Ranpo nods "saved my life." And that's enough for Atsushi to crumble, for the tears to fall and his hands to shake.

Ranpo chuckles, not unkind and opens his arms for Atsushi to fall into and sob. He rubs Atsushi's back and teases him for the waterworks but they both know he's happy.

So is Atsushi.

"I looked for you, damnit Atsushi I looked for you everywhere...I had faith you survived. You have no idea how happy I'm glad you're alive and here." Says Ranpo, letting some of his own vulnerability show.

"The Orphanage found me" said Atsushi and Ranpo huffs in anger. He knew exactly what that place did to Atsushi.

"... You think they'd notice if we set it on fire?" The anger fades slightly heading Atsushi laugh.

"You couldn't even blown up the science lab, nevermind a whole Orphanage." Ranpo pouts in mock offense before he's laughing too. "Listen! How was I supposed to know it would be made out of unflammable materials."

Atsushi snorts.

"Maybe because it was made in a school full of fire setting idiots?" Ranpo snorts "yeah yeah, fair enough. Of course you remember that."

Atsushi nods "of course I do, you dragged me into it and I had to bail your ass out of detention."

Ranpo grins, ruffling his hair "see, you've always been saving my ass. That execution was meant for me, you took the fall. How did I survive all these years without you?"

Atsushi shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "You tell me, I've been just as lost without you."

Ranpo nods "naturally, so I suppose you've got no choice but to be my friend again." He sounded as confident as ever, but Atsushi knew Ranpo. He could tell how nervous he was.

How could he have been so stupid to think Ranpo wanted nothing to do with him?

"I guess not" Says Atsushi, smiling as the headed back to the Orphanage. "I'm glad you've both made up" Says Kunikida, suprised to see Ranpo and Atsushi talking excitedly when prior they'd barely speak a word.

"Yeah, I'm glad too" Says Atsushi. It of course lead into the talk of what happened with them.

They glossed over the details of the killing game. Atsushi comforted Ranpo when they got to his execution. And reminded all the horrified Agency members that he was still alive.

"So, Atsushi if Ranpo is the Ultimate Detective what's you're talent?" Asks Dazai, curious. Ranpo snorts "isn't it obvious?" Dazai pouts good nsturedly. "We can't all be on your level Ranpo."

"Damn right you can't." Grins Ranpo, though he looks at Atsushi seriously. "You don't have to share if you don't want too."

Atsushi chuckles, shaking his head. "It's alright. I'm Atsushi Nakajima, the Ultimate Survivor."

Dazai shakes his head, amused "no yeah it really was obvious."

[loosesodamarble]

The Heartless Witch and the Vice Captain of the Black Bulls

Summary: Josele approaches Nacht about his assignment as a vice captain. Nacht, however, stubbornly refuses and says more than he should. Genre: general, slight angst Word count: ~2000

..........

Josele stared at the black robe that the Dark Mage had delivered to her the other day. It had been given to her to pass along to “that shady bastard.”

He was talking about the Shadow Mage. Josele shook her head and focused. No. He’s… Faust?

Something about calling him that still didn’t seem right in her head. But it was all Josele could come up with when she thought of what his name was. She knew what to call him before. His name had once been almost too easy for her to recall. His name would also cause a warmth in her chest, her whole body.

But in the years since she cursed herself, though, his name and the feelings he evoked had faded.

Josele felt a sharp ache in her chest the more she tried to think of who the Shadow Mage was beyond “Faust.” She’d grown used to the sudden bouts of pain even though the reason for them eluded her.

However, Josele told herself not knowing was safer than learning the truth.

Josele tightened her grip on the black robe and reminded herself of her goal. Through the dim and neglected halls of House Faust her feet carried her to where the Shadow Mage was likely to be. His late father’s study. He holed himself in that room so very often, reading and researching and becoming consumed with knowledge of Forbidden Magic.

For what purpose? Josele thought. Whenever I ask, the Shadow Mage makes a face like… he’s been injured.

Josele stopped in front of the door of the study. She raised her hand.

Hesitation made her pause.

It wasn’t that she believed she would be turned away. There was no doubt in Josele’s mind that she’d be let in.

She would enter the room and see him. The man with pale skin, deep ebony hair, and eyes like… Not like ice. Such eyes didn’t deserve to be compared to something so cold. Instead, his eyes were soft. Delicate. Beautiful. Like the petals of a forget-me-not. Josele didn’t miss the irony of comparing the eyes of a man whose name she couldn’t recall to a flower called “forget-me-not.” But it was the only thing that Josele thought of as an appropriate comparison.

Wait… Why am I thinking so hard about the color of his eyes? Josele groaned when she caught her mind drifting.

Now she was distracted rather than hesitating.

Josele took a breath before finally knocking and calling out, “Can I come in?”

A beat of silence.

He’s not going to turn me away, is he? The thought made Josele’s chest mysteriously ache once more.

The throbbing was eased by the sound of the Shadow Mage’s speaking from beyond the door.

“Come in,” he said in a flat but clear voice.

…

The situation was beginning to feel hopeless.

Every tome that Nacht had searched bore no results to the questions he desperately wanted—no, needed—answered. Since he’d returned home and discovered Josele in her cursed state and with the company of a devil, he’d been seeking a way to free her from both.

Josele, who had always been an honest and kind girl, didn’t deserve to be tainted by the darkness of Forbidden Magic the way Nacht had been. Josele, who lived with her heart laid bare for all to see, shouldn’t have ever sealed away the emotions that made up her being. Josele, who was Morgen’s beloved, couldn’t continue to exist the way she was.

All of Nacht’s searching and reaching had been for naught in the last few years. He’d grasped at so many straws. A former king who broke a curse that had been in his bloodline for centuries. A princess who inherited the power to dispel any curse. Crystalline flowers that bloomed from people’s joy and had been used to lift the curse placed on a prince. Nacht sought out the source of each tale, no matter how implausible, hoping that one could break Josele’s Locked Heart Curse. Because if Josele had her heart back, then she’d realize her mistake in contracting with a devil and break it off herself.

When Nacht stopped finding leads for ways to free Josele from her curse, he moved onto attempting to force Josele’s contract with Almatra to end. Even if ending the contract wouldn’t have an effect on Josele’s curse, it was better than leaving it be. However, information regarding devils and their contracts was scarce, even for the heir to House Faust’s devilish traditions.

“Is it truly impossible?” Nacht gripped his hair and scowled. “No no no… There has to be a way! I just haven’t found an answer yet because House Faust only has so many books. If I look elsewhere then maybe…”

A rap on the door stilled Nacht’s racing thoughts.

“Can I come in?” Josele’s dull voice reached Nacht’s ears.

Not that anyone else would be here to seek me out, Nacht lamented somberly.

Morgen was no longer around to ask Nacht to join the Magic Knights. Maybe Nacht would actually accept now. Yami dropped by on rare occasions to pester Nacht. That or to chat with what was left of Josele.

Nacht shook his head while closing the book he’d been combing through. Research would resume after he spoke with Josele.

“Come in.”

Josele stepped into the study. A piece of black fabric was clutched in her hand.

“What did you want to tell me?” Nacht asked as he rose from his seat. “Is it already time for lunch?” It wouldn’t have been the first time he lost track of time during his research. “Or did you need me to help you with something?” Josele would ask him to go with her on errands or spar to keep her skills sharp. “What is it you need?”

Nacht would give Josele anything she needed if she asked for it. In fact, he relished in the moments when Josele sought him out. Because it was a sign that he meant something to her, that there were things she still valued.

And that peek into her still beating heart kept Nacht from giving up hope.

“I don’t need anything from you right now,” Josele stated as she walked deeper into the room and towards Nacht. “I have something that the Dark Mage told me was for you.”

Josele stopped in front of Nacht and grasped his wrist before placing the black fabric in his hand. Nacht looked at the cloth, eyebrow raised.

“What is it exactly?”

“A squad robe. The Dark Mage stated that you would be his vice captain.”

A scowl crossed Nacht’s face. He didn’t think Yami was serious about dragging him into some nonsense squad like he said back at Morgen’s grave. It would only be a hassle for Nacht. So Nacht tossed the piece of clothing to the floor.

“Like hell I am,” Nacht retorted. He took his hand back from Josele and walked around her towards the door. “Pardon me. I’m going to step out.”

“You’re not going to accept?” Josele didn’t look the least bit fazed despite her question. “He said… that you would be vice captain whether you like it or not. And being considered for leadership in a Magic Knight squad is an honor.”

“It’s a useless honor for me,” replied Nacht, having paused at the door. “Yami invited you to be a member of his squad too, didn’t he?” He narrowed his gaze on Josele without glaring.

“He did.”

Nacht ignored the softness of Josele’s voice in that short phrase. He must’ve imagined it, imagined Josele sounding as if her heart had been touched by another’s consideration.

Nacht faced the door and clutched the knob tightly in his hand. He fought to take in breath and resist the stinging sensation welling up in his eyes. If nothing else, he would not subject Josele to himself in a sorry state. He couldn’t crumble when Josele was already shattered.

Whatever strength of will he could muster from himself. The fragile hope he clung to against the odds. Every worthless part of himself, he dedicated to Josele. But even that was not enough. For Josele deserved someone who was good to their core and could help her through the dark time in her life. She deserved far more, far better, than Nacht and what he could offer. Still, Nacht felt responsible.

So he pushed down his tears and put on a brave face. It was necessary to be strong.

He clicked his tongue then spat, “Don’t bother. Nothing good will come from joining him.”

“What is your reasoning for saying that?” Josele asked.

“Yami is… a troublesome man,” Nacht grumbled back. “He’s crude with his words. Unruly and destructive. And he always does as he pleases, without much thought to others.”

He grit his teeth thinking about his best friend. Yami would’ve chortled at the description Nacht had given him. It was like Yami prided himself on being a thoroughly unpleasant man. The kind of man that Nacht used to be.

Nacht felt sick just thinking about it, his past self. His cruel and evil ways had destroyed… everything. Not that he was much better in the present.

“I will be joining the Dark Mage’s squad, no matter what you say,” Josele stated, breaking Nacht from his thoughts. “I didn’t officially quit after all.”

Nacht turned and gazed upon Josele.

For the most part, she looked as blank as ever. But Nacht could see in her small tells that she was troubled. Her gaze drifted off to the side, as though she were lost in thought. Her right arm crossed in front so she could hold her left arm to her side.

“I should be out there, helping the people. I must protect others. That is… my job as a Magic Knight.”

It wasn’t duty that compelled Josele, Nacht knew that much. The fact that she could no longer recognize that part of herself made Nacht’s chest ache even more.

“I see. If that’s what you choose…” 

Nacht wasn’t going to stop her. He didn’t think anyone would extend such an invitation to her, as she was currently, so he’d let it be. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be irritated with the situation. And it didn’t stop him from hating that he’d been arbitrarily assigned as a vice captain.

“Shado— Nn… Faus—”

There was the briefest touch, but enough for Nacht to register Josele’s gentleness and warmth, on Nacht’s shoulder.

“Don’t!”

Nacht raised his hand and smacked Josele’s away.

“We’re done talking, Josele,” Nacht snapped, taking a step in Josele’s direction. “If you want to join that failure then be my guest. But I have better things to do than pretend that I’m some hero and waste time on useless endeavors.”

As soon as the words left Nacht, he snapped to his senses.

Josele had taken a step back and turned her head away. Her expression was unchanged. But Nacht saw in his mind’s eye the face she would’ve made if things were as they should’ve been. A slight frown with parted lips, furrowed brows, and eyes filled not with anger but concern.

“I’m… sorry.”

Why? Why did she say that when Nacht was in the wrong? Why, the question always came back to Nacht when he thought about Josele.

“I’ll let you leave.”

Nacht’s lips parted. But no words came to him. His already raised hand could have reached her. But he pulled away instead. He turned his back on Josele and left.

Dammit. Every time. Nacht grit his teeth as he stalked through the hall to anywhere else other than the office. No matter what, I always hurt her again.

…

Josele blinked and noticed that her sight had blurred.

“Hm?”

She touched her cheek and it came back wet. The Shadow Mage’s eyes looked wet with tears, too.

She inhaled and her lungs felt sore. The Shadow Mage’s breathing had sounded a bit labored, too.

Her body ached and yet felt hollow at the same time. Did the Shadow Mage experience the same sensation?

All they had done was talk, and the slap wasn’t even that hard. So what caused the pain she was feeling?

Josele wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand as she walked out of the office.