#and everything after that is a blur i’m afraid

[campbyler]

anyone else have the funny feeling that thea x suni is the big love story of this saga as well as mike and will? how did that drunken evening at the rainforest cafe go lads? 😂

HELP 😭 so sorry to disappoint but i am 22 and thea is 29 so we have a very sisterly relationship irl!! we both have similar age gaps w our own siblings so i have told her before that being around her makes my inner annoying little sister come out <- usually carrying the burden of Eldest Daughter so it’s nice to be the annoying and weird one for a change :-) we were also at a queer bar and Not the rainforest cafe (thea made a drunkposting joke and she does not remember why she typed that) but we got our sea creature themed accessories complimented by multiple women and i also kissed a girl and got her number so i would sayyyyyy it was a success and a very fun night overall 🥳🥳🥳

[sixosix]

STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed. 

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

[cimmanonrowl]

dbf!hotch where you have to be quick n quiet bc your parents are next door, and he's only staying for one night. heavy w the smut and tension 🤭

So It Goes...

It was summer break from University and you were home to spend time with your parents. And maybe Aaron was just as clingy as you because you woke up one morning with him in your room, admiring you in your sleep. And the night you spent together didn’t disappoint either.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, secret relationship, sweet dom!aaron, sneaky, unprotected sex, cowgirl, creampie, gagging, oral (f) receiving.

The soft, feather-like touch on your cheek pulled you from the depths of sleep. The caress was gentle, almost ghostly, yet enough to rouse you even if you were unconscious.

“There she is…” you heard someone say; a familiar deep voice, soft and whispery. “Good morning, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered open, groaning lightly to yourself, while the hazy remnants of sleep gave way to early morning light filtering through your bedroom drapes. Someone’s warm hand still rested lightly on your face, occasionally rubbing your cheek with the back of their fingers. And your heart skipped a beat as you became fully aware of the presence, with the uncanny feeling of being watched.

“Aaron?” you grumbled, confusion threading through your voice. 

Blinking away the blur of sleep, you slowly whipped your head to the side. Only to be greeted by a sight that almost instantly knocked a breath out of your chest.

You rubbed your eyes quickly, half expecting him to vanish, a figment of your frail imagination. But he was still there, smiling softly at you, his eyes crinkling at the very corner. His affectionate gaze narrowed down on your face alone, full of tenderness that melted away any lingering drowsiness in your brain.

“Aaron? W-what— what?”

“Hey…” he murmured, chuckling a little as he saw your baffled reaction, his voice deep and soothing as always. “I’m sorry, I just... I couldn’t wait to see you."

Your heart warmed with a mix of joy and confusion, but also a pang of worry. How did he even manage to sneak into your room, you don’t know. But here he was, tucking the stray strand of hair behind your ear, staring back at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. It feels surreal, like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, voice still groggy and croaky from sleep.

You know for sure that you look like a mess. Maybe with a drool at the corner of your mouth, or a trace of sleep in your eyes. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Aaron was looking at you like this, not when all you see is love and longing, not with the fact that your parents must be somewhere downstairs waiting for you both to come down and join them for breakfast.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound of a sweet melody to your ears. “I missed you,” was all he said, as if that explains everything. 

And knowing your boyfriend, maybe it does.

You reached up, your hand covering his on your cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “I missed you too,” you admitted, “But how? Where’s Dad? Mom? How did you get here?”

You kept glancing towards the door after your question, imagining it to burst open at any moment; your father with a rifle in his hands, your mother crying behind him. You shuddered at the image; it was surely exaggerated, and not exactly how you planned for them to know your relationship with Aaron.

“They went out to the local market,” he explained shortly, frowning as he noticed the worry lines on your face. “They’re buying meat and groceries for their anniversary party later. Your Mom told me to get some rest instead of helping them; saw my chance and sneaked in.”

Just with what you heard, relief and excitement coursed through your veins. So you’re here all alone with Aaron, and the house is silent and empty. You can’t help but feel a thrill at the audacity of it all. “We still have to be careful,” you said, although your voice carried a hint of anticipation.

Aaron’s smile turned a bit more mischievous, his fingers tracing a gentle line along your jaw. “I know, princess,” he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But right now, it’s just you and me.”

“Oh?” your eyebrows perked as you picked up the insinuation. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

The smirk on his face grew at the challenge. And his touch lingered, the warmth of his hand spreading through you. His eyes darkened with desire, and you feel a similar heat rising within you.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is not to touch you while you sleep?”

You snorted. “Oh, shut up. Bet I look like a troll.”

“Hey, don’t speak to my girlfriend like that,” he scolded lightheartedly, pinching the side of your stomach. “You always look like an angel.”

You tried hiding your blush with an eye roll.

There he is again with his confessions; sweet, little words dripping like honey in this early morning. With Aaron, those words never felt forced, never felt like an empty expression. Maybe it has to do with the way he says it, or the way he never tore his imploring gaze away from you, or maybe you trust him so much that you willingly listen to everything he says. With no complaints. No doubts.

Aaron leaned in slowly, “I’ve missed you so much, baby. My bed feels empty without you.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Aaron.”

He frowned as if that insulted him, his thick eyebrows tugging together. “Your point being?”

“You’re clingy,” you laughed in amusement, tipping your face away from him, avoiding his lips that kept chasing yours.

A firm grip on your hip stopped you from moving.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, a confused frown still plastered on his face. “I’m trying to kiss you.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“And do I look like I care?”

“Ew,” you scrunched your nose to feign disgust. “Really, love?”

“Sweetheart, I eat my own cum as it drip down your ass. Do you think—”

You slapped both of your palms on your face, groaning at his words. What the hell. You expected a different response. Not these dirty, crude words. Why would he even say that?

“Aaron!”

“What?” he only laughed– he always does, he always enjoyed seeing you blush like a tomato. “It’s true, sweetheart. What do you think will stop me from tasting you?”

Just as he said, it’s true. Nothing has ever stopped him from showing you love and pleasuring you. He’s always got to have his hand on your body, on your waist, on your thighs; his lips on yours, or your skin; his head buried at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and most of the time, in between your legs, eating your cunt.

“Whatever, old man. Come here,” you giggled, pulling his neck, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly soft kiss. The softness of the contact sent a shiver all over your body, awakening a hunger that has been building up ever since the summer break began.

Aaron’s hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, and deepening the kiss.

The house was wrapped in silence, yet the idea of doing something so illicit and dangerous under your parent’s roof made you tremble in anxiety– or was it pleasure? You don’t know. You can’t seem to know. Not with Aaron’s hand kneading your breasts, not with his lips trailing down to your pulsing cunt.

Your discarded underwear lay forgotten on the floor. And Aaron’s head finally nestled between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet and throbbing pussy. His calloused hands rested firmly on your hips, and the first flick of his tongue against your clit sent shivers rising from the soft surface of your skin.

“Fuck, baby. You taste so good,” Aaron murmured, his voice deep and raspy as he glanced up.

His words crumbled your resolution, with Aaron’s expert lips and tongue moving with a tenderness that bordered on reverence, exploring every inch of your cunt as if he had it all memorized– which he does. Every flick and twirl of his tongue, the vibration of his pleasured groans against your wetness, the desperate pleas that escaped your lips— he knows it all.

“Aaron…” you breathed, your voice trembling in a brimful of desire and need. “Don’t stop.”

Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling through the soft strands as you guided him closer, deeper. You bucked your hips abstractedly, creating an even more delicious friction. It was all overwhelming, full of ecstasy after two weeks of spending time away from each other. Aaron’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, watching you fall into pieces, a drunk look present in his eyes.

“I won’t, angel...” he promised. “I want you to feel everything.”

The secrecy almost felt sacred. The early morning light painted everything in a soft, dreamy glow, blurring the lines between your reality and both of your desires.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before slowly prodding them inside of your wet, dripping cunt. Aaron took your heavy moan and the satisfaction in your face as a signal to assault your pussy just the way he knows you like it, reaching spots that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

“God, I missed this… missed you...” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you felt your orgasm rising, building fast and deliberately. “A-Aaron… faster… please…”

The firmness of his touch, his caresses, his very presence; as the sensations built within you, you knew nothing could ever make you give up this moment.

All the while, his eyes held yours, tender and full of desire. “Whatever you want, baby,” his voice even softer as he said, “I’ll give you everything.”

The heavy smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filled the air as you stepped into the garden, wearing only a short, breezy dress that fluttered around your thighs with each step. The barbecue party is in full swing, with your family and some other neighbors gathered around, chatting and enjoying the warm afternoon. Your parents are busy at the grill, flipping burgers and ribs, chatting with each other, and laughing.

You quickly scanned the garden and spotted Aaron. He’s engaged in conversation with a small crowd of men, but as if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes quickly found yours. A warm, secretive smile spreads across his face, sending a flutter through your chest.

As you move through the crowd, greeting some of your neighbors and grabbing a plate of food, you can’t help but feel Aaron’s eyes on you. Oh, you knew that his eyes were on you. The dress you chose wasn’t just for comfort in the summer heat; it was an attempt to catch his attention, to feel his gaze, to make sure he was on the tip of his toes.

You found a seat at one of the picnic tables under the shade of an old tree. Aaron casually made his way over, each of his steps languid, his movements seemingly unhurried. And when he took the seat across from you, his leg brushed against yours under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

“Everything looks delicious,” you tried keeping your voice steady, your eyes flicking to his with a knowing look. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Hmm…” he nodded, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. His foot nudges yours playfully, hidden from the view of the others.

“Stop,” you chuckled, shaking your head at his childishness.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks. I know.”

He raised an eyebrow, smiling. “How cocky.”

Throughout the small gathering, the two of you stole clandestine glances. There isn’t a moment where you felt Aaron wasn’t paying attention to you. Occasionally, Aaron’s hand would graze yours when reaching for the salad bowl or the pitcher of lemonade, each touch brief and only for a lingering moment.

At one point, you excused yourself to grab yourself a drink. As you walked past by Aaron, you felt his hand subtly brush the small of your back, a fleeting touch that sent a thrill through your pulsing cunt. You can feel your underwear slowly getting soaked in anticipation for tonight, as you already know he’s staying.

You glanced over your shoulder and met his eyes, and saw the same spark of desire mirroring in there.

The afternoon crawled excruciatingly slow, and as the sun began to set, the sky a pale hue of salmon and lilac, the guests started to gather around the fire pit. You took a seat on a wooden bench, with Aaron joining you shortly after. 

He sat beside you.

A bold move.

You became hyperaware of everything: the closeness of his body next to yours, the occasional brush of his hairy arm, the deep rumble of his laughter as he chimed in the conversations of others. Nobody seemed to mind why Aaron chose to sit beside you of all places. Nobody even batted an eye. But for some reason, it made your toes tingle in anxiety.

Your parents are nearby, laughing and sharing stories with their other friends, blissfully unaware of the castle of dirty thoughts you built in honor of your father’s dear best friend. God, it feels so wrong. But you’d let the whole world crumble to dust than let go of this feeling.

As the sky darkened, you found a moment when the two of you were left alone. Aaron leaned in, his voice a low murmur meant only for your ears.

“You okay, baby? You’re quiet,” he observed, his eyes scanning your face with worry.

“I’m fine...” a shy smile played on your lips. “Enough with the beer now, please. You look red.”

A smile rose on his lips as he nodded, setting down the half-finished bottle on the ground to follow your order. When his attention landed on you again, you mirrored the smile tugging on his lips.

His hand found yours under the bench, fingers intertwining in a gesture that’s both innocent and intimate. “I wish we could be together openly,” he whispered, his thumb gently rubbing soft circles on your knuckles.

“Someday, yeah?” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. “Are you tired of this?”

“No, Jesus Christ,” he whispered, almost to himself, voice quiet and absentminded. “But it reminds me you’re graduating in a few months.”

“Right, can’t wait to escape that hell.”

Aaron snorted, throwing you a glance. “You wanted to enter law school, remember?”

“Because I wanted to impress my now boyfriend, remember?”

His eyes softened, and you could see amusement and affection filtering through them. “You didn’t have to impress me, baby, you’ve got me at the palm of your hand,” was what he said, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

The party went on until the evening. The faint sounds of the gathering still lingered in your mind— all the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the stolen glances between you and Aaron. Your heart fluttered as you recalled his eyes meeting yours across the crowded yard, his piercing eyes observing you from afar.

You laid in bed, feeling your pulse quicken as you waited, the anticipation almost too much to bear. Then, you heard it— a gentle knock on your door. 

You rose quietly, wincing at the sound of your bedsheet rustling upon your movements. In quick strides, you crossed the room and swung the door carefully, so softly, until there he was again. In front of you.

“Hi,” you whispered, a smile spreading across your face. “Come in.”

Aaron locked the door behind him, and the room felt suddenly warmer, his presence filling the space with a palpable energy. You stepped closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What a torture...” Aaron murmured lazily, his lips brushing against your ear. “Wanted to be near you every second.”

“Huh,” you said teasingly, poking the side of his ribs. “And you dare say I’m the clingy one in this relationship?”

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense. The heat made you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss, letting yourself lose your mind in his warmth and touch.

Aaron’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“Oh, please, baby. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He led you to the bed with guided steps. Aaron’s touch was tender, the fingers trailing over your skin made your heart ache, and your cunt pulse in hot desire.

You looked into his eyes, finding a reflection of your own need. His gaze was affectionate yet filled with an intensity that made blood rush to your cheeks.

“Need you...” your voice was barely audible in the stillness. “Fuck me good, baby.”

He smiled, a slow, intimate curve of his lips that made you catch your breath. “With your parents next door? Sound dangerous…” he replied softly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

You could feel the tension of the day melting away. Aaron’s hands moved slowly as if he was savoring every moment, every touch. He kissed a trail from your lips to your jaw, and down to your neck, his breath warm against your skin, leaving a wet path in its wake.

As his kisses grew more insistent, you felt a wildfire ignite within you, the desire that had simmered all day finally threatening to spill. You pulled him closer, even more closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss with a pace that matched his own.

While Aaron’s hands roamed around your body with such possessiveness, the only sounds in your room were the soft rustle of sheets and your quiet whining. He explored every inch of your skin with a silent plan to conquer. To take. To remind you how you and your body are his and his alone.

“Be quiet, little girl, or I’ll gag you,” his eyes darkened with warning. “Can’t have your parents know their good girl is a dirty slut, can we?” he mumbled hotly in your ears.

“Y-yes, sir...”

You lifted your hips as you felt his hands playing with the waistband of your underwear. And you couldn’t do anything when he said “Open up wide,” and slipped the crumpled fabric of your soaked underwear inside your mouth.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, hm?” he whispered again, his voice soft yet taunting.

And you could only nod because your words were caught right in your throat. Literally.

Aaron moved swiftly and with urgency this time, as he was aware of the risk of what you were doing. It was exhilarating; sharing this secret, him forcing you to keep quiet— you’ve never been quiet, not when his big, girthy cock stretched you wide, ramming in and out of your tight pussy.

“Fuck, baby, so warm…” Aaron grumbled lowly, biting on his hand as you sank deeper into his cock.

You kneaded on your tits, rubbed your nipples as you stared back at Aaron, lowering yourself to ride his hard cock. A low whimper rumbled in your chest as you felt the burn of the stretch, your moans muffled by the fabric serving as your gag for tonight.

“That’s it, angel, move your hips like that. Fuck,” Aaron closed his eyes as he felt your cunt tighten with your slow movements. “Fucking hell, baby. You’ll kill me one day.”

You started bouncing on his cock in no time, fast and hard, feeling his hands on your thighs tighten in restraint. Your air flow was restricted by the gag on your mouth, making you breathe heavily, noisily, accompanied by the quiet flapping of sweaty skin and Aaron’s pleasured grunts.

“Fuck. Fucking hell, angel…” he groaned as he spread his knees and started fucking into you.

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as he prodded the spots only he could reach. With bleary eyes, you watched how Aaron bit his lower lip and how his hips fucked into you with vigor, with the same need, struggling so hard to contain his noises.

Your eyes lingered on the solid plains of his hairy chest and rested your palm on the soft surface of his stomach, moving your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. Warm tears streamed down your cheeks with pleasure, with the nagging voice at the back of your head warning you not to make a mistake. To be quiet. To not ruin the moment.

Yet it’s all too much.

“You’re doing good for me, baby. You’re so gorgeous…” Aaron cooed as he noticed your tears. “You’re so tight. Fuck, you’re close already?”

You nodded dumbly, too fucked to even understand everything he just said.

“Go on then. Cum for me, baby,” Aaron smiled, slapping your thighs lightly. “That’s it, good girl. Ride my cock like that. Fucking hell, what a slut.”

You tried warning him. You wanted to tell him you’re close. To go faster. Harder. To let you come. To give you everything. To beg. But your quiet pleas were muffled, leaving a deep rumble of amused laughter on Aaron’s chest.

“What’s that, slut? Can’t hear you,” he taunted softly. “What do you think your parents would think if they saw you like this, hmm?”

You whined and whimpered as your thighs burned from the effort, finally letting Aaron take the control.

“I’m so close, baby... fuck, feels so good...” he too was breathing heavily. “Come for me, come on. Good girl. Tighten the cunt even more– like that, fuck!”

White hot pleasure blurred your vision as you felt your orgasm coursed through you. You felt Aaron tremble beneath your body, his hot load flooding your insides, his warm hand exploring your sweaty skin with a devotion that left you breathless.

“My jaw hurts…” you pouted as he gently took out the fabric on your mouth and tucked your face in the crook of his neck. “I love it, though.”

Aaron chuckled at your whiny voice. “I know it’s wrong but that’s so hot, darling.”

“I know…” you giggled weakly, feeling the palm of his hands roam at the surface of your back. “Can we do it again? I wanna... ride your stomach. Please, sir, can I? Didn’t you say I’m your good girl?”

Sorry for the long wait but thank you to Anon who requested this! As always, your replies, reblogs, and reactions are very much appreciated. See you on the next ones!

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

First Date, Huh?

Summary: The human race is at danger of extinction. The government had come up with a plan to increase the level of population throughout the country that involved you and a very good looking man.

Warning: unprotected sex. oral (both receiving). creampie. slight degradation. overstimulation. male and female anatomy. afab reader. impregnating. breeding kink (kinda?) aftercare. mentions of medical procedures (I forgot what it was called lol). not proofread. wrote this right after my dream sooo…

Word Count: 5,155

A/N: I had a dream about this and I woke up thinking I was pregnant😭 (be safe out there y’all) anyways, I picked up far cry 5 again and I’m literally eating that game up

“Falling for a stranger, good gracious. I might even fly out to Vegas. I’m thinking maybe you’d be down to do it,” Love Talk (demo), WayV

The world population had been declining after the rise of a deadly disease. People died in groups and the government had tried to prevent the spread.

But their attempts were in vain.

Decades after the virus had finally been tamed. The world had been left with only one third of its population remaining. The economies across the countries crashed and people had to rebuild themselves slowly.

However, that all came to a halt when the government suddenly introduced a new bill.

They had planned for a procreating program. In which scientists were able to develop a new technology wavelength that can determine what person is more biologically compatible with another person.

The government had ordered people to come to the nearest available clinics in order for the scientists to collect a sample of their blood. Of your blood.

Months passed after the collection of blood and suddenly a group of soldiers, along with scientists, stormed inside the houses of people and marked them with bracelet bands.

The soldiers sedated everyone and transported them to an underground warehouse. The warehouse itself was an underground bunker with scientists roaming around in their lab coats.

The underground facility was huge- it could be considered an underground city if the president decided to. But he didn’t.

When you woke up, you noticed you were inside a room with white walls. The floor and ceiling were white. Even the lights were white. Everything was white, except for the red bed you were currently in.

They had laid you down on a bed full of pillows and blankets. Your eyes blurred as they adjusted to the lights of the room.

Sitting up, you’ve noticed- and probably felt- the presence of someone laying down next to you. You looked over at the person and noticed it was a man.

He was waking up as well. He had dirty blonde hair and looked to be tall and broad. His features were rough and masculine, with his stubble being noticeable under the harsh lighting. As you sat up, he slowly sat up as well and took in the environment. When both of you laid eyes on each other, you both let out a gasp and quickly got off the bed.

You quickly realized what either of you were wearing. They had changed you into a skimpy satin nightgown while he was wearing a silk pajama set that revealed his chest due to the V-line cut.

The intercom from the room turned on and a person spoke,

“Good morning to you two. I’m sure you’re both confused and scared but afraid be not. We’re ensuring your safety at this establishment. As you both can see, you’re both wearing the same color of wristbands.”

You looked down at your right wrist and saw the green wristband, your eyes trailed towards the man and his was also green.

“This means that both of you are biologically compatible. Our goal here is to not hurt you. We’re simply trying to bring back the population back to where it should be and we need your help.”

Your eyes widened and so did his. The man’s eyebrows pinched together as look of suspicion and anger appeared on his face. But he didn’t say anything.

“I’m sure you both know what this means. You have the remainder of the day to get started. We expect positive results since we’ve run extensive research on your genetics. That is all, get started.”

Essentially, they wanted you to have sex with a stranger. That’s revolting.

You turned your gaze back to the man, his blue eyes stood out from his features. Neither of you said anything. It was all too…awkward. You glanced at the bed and then back at him. How do you even start something so intimate?

“Um-“ you started quietly, “So…we’re compatible.”

The man simply stared at you and then back at his wrist. He nodded, “Yeah. Seems so.”

“Should I-“

“We don’t have to do anything,” he interrupted you, “What’re they going to do if we do nothing? They can’t kill us. Those mad scientists need as many people as possible and if they killed you or me then what’s the whole point of this?”

You sighed and nodded. He was right in a way. Even if you disobeyed they couldn’t kill you, right?

Sitting at the edge of the bed, you begin to wonder everything that has happened so far. They’re making everyone breeding machines- is what you thought.

Before all of this, you were living your life the way you wanted it. And now you were forced to have a baby with someone you don’t know. All for the sake of humanity.

It was cruel.

“What do we do instead?” You asked quietly.

“Find a way out of here,” he responded as he walked around the room and tried to find an exit. There was no door. No windows. Nothing. As if you two were put in a white box.

He was getting frustrated that he had been put in this position. He didn’t want any of this, not with you. It wasn’t personal but he didn’t know you.

“There’s no way out,” he spoke after some time. It didn’t take a genius to know that you two were locked in this space.

“Do they really want us to…” your voice trailed off as you stared at him. He looked back at you and shrugged, “Maybe. Those crazy bastards are probably stressing about the human race dying or whatever.”

After a moment of silence, you could smell something. Something that smelled good.

“Is that you?” He asked. He also smelled something.

“I was just about to ask if it was you too,” you replied.

He furrowed his brows and sat next to you. He leaned closer to your neck and inhaled softly.

“It’s the both of us,” he whispered. You stared into his eyes at the proximity.

What was happening?

Did the scientists do something? Why did he suddenly look more attractive and smelled enticing?

You leaned back and got up from the bed. Panic started to run through your veins. “Do you think-“

He raised a brow and sat in the edge of the bed as he watched you pace around the room. You hadn’t noticed but he was secretly checking you out in that nightgown. He felt shame and quickly looked away- this wasn’t him.

“Do you think they put something on us?” You asked, your tone laced with anxiety.

The man sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair, “I don’t know. But they sure know what they’re doing.”

“We should just get on with it. They won’t let us out anytime soon. But maybe they will once we had sex, right?” You asked with a rushed tone. Thoughts occupied your mind and all you wanted to do was get out of this sick and twisted place.

He looked at you with a worried expression, “Are you sure? I mean, we don’t even know each other’s names and-“

“Y/n. My name is y/n,” you interrupted him.

The man raised his brows in surprise and let out an airy chuckle, “Well okay. Name’s Leon.”

He extended his hand out for a handshake and you hesitantly took it. His hands were rough and calloused. Almost made you wonder how they’d feel inside your wet and tight-

What.

You quickly withdrew your hand and looked away. What was going on with you?

“You really want to do this?” He asked softly. You looked at him and swallowed hard. Did you? Or was it whatever the scientists gave you that spoke for you? Either way, you still wanted to get out of this place.

“If fucking you is the only way that could get us out of here then so be it,” you muttered and walked back to the bed.

You sat next to him, shoulders touching.

“Okay then…” he replied quietly, “Guess this is our first date, huh?” He joked.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, how did he have the spirits to joke times like these? Men.

You sat down next to him on the bed, staring at him. He stared right back at you and his gaze fell to your lips. He then leaned in to whisper in your ear, "Can I?”

He put his hand on your cheek as his other hand landed on your thigh. You silently nodded and closed your eyes as he leaned closer to your face.

His breath fanned your lips and all you could do was close your eyes as he finally put his lips on your lips.

The hand on your cheek traveled to the back of your head as he pulled you closer, your hands traveled to his shoulders as you deepened the kiss.

It was a slow, passionate kiss- albeit the current circumstances.

His tongue grazed your bottom lip and you parted your lips just enough for his tongue to delve inside your mouth, exploring every crevice.

The hand on your thigh went higher up to the hem of your nightgown, squeezing the skin gently in between his finger. You moaned into his mouth as he gently hit your bottom lip.

You’ve already started to feel aroused and wet, even though there was a lingering thought in the back of your head telling you that this is wrong.

He leaned closer to you, pushing you down gently until your back finally touches the bed. Leon’s hands moved around your body as he kissed you, his knee right in between your legs causing you to moan quietly.

He smirked at your reaction and moved his lips down to your neck as he pressed his knee into your wet cunt. You couldn’t help but grind on his knee as he sucked your neck. Leaving bruises and hickeys for you to worry about tomorrow.

Your hands wrapped around his biceps as his hands held your waist and squeezed just a tad bit.

He slowly brought his lips down to your collarbone before one of his hands pulled the straps of your nightgown down. Causing the dress to slip down to your waist, revealing your breasts to him.

He pulled back and stared at your hardened nipples with a slight smirk. His fingers hovered over them as he kept teasing you. Then he leaned down to suck the right one, as his hand began to roll your nipple in between his fingers. Your back arched against him and that only caused him to groan at the bliss of sucking your tit.

Your legs squeezed around his as he rubbed it slightly against your covered cunt. He could feel the wetness seeping through the fabric of your panties and that only turned him on even more.

His erection, confined against his clothes, rubbed along your stomach. You could almost feel it twitch as you felt it. Almost.

He pulled back from your right breast and moved on to the second one. His teeth grazed at your nipple as his hand gripped the previously sucked one.

And all you could do was moan and squirm under him.

He moved his lips down from your breasts to your stomach before ripping your nightgown apart and throwing it down on the white floor. Leaving you in your panties.

His lips trailed kisses until he met the waistband of your panties. His fingers ran down your thighs as he slowly parted them, lowering himself until he felt his knees touch the floor. His head was right in between your legs and he stared at the wet spot on the slit of your panties.

He brought a finger and stroked the slit from top to bottom, he made sure to apply just enough pressure for you to not only feel how wet you were but also to feel the way his fingers wanted to prod inside.

You closed your eyes tightly shut as your toes curled. This was all too much and he hasn’t even started. He chuckled lowly, seeing how you were reacting made his pride increase just a little.

He firmly pressed your thighs down on the bed as he brought his face back to the waistband and began to pull your panties down with his teeth. Once they had reached your thighs, he pulled them off with his hands and let them fall on the floor.

You were shining and glistening. His mouth watered and all he wanted to do was dive in. And so he did.

Almost immediately he struck his tongue into your wet hole, licking around as he savored you. He moaned as he tasted you, he’d never tasted something like you and he wanted more.

His thumb circled around your clit, his speed shifting from fast to slow as he watched how much that affected you. He dragged his tongue all the way up and down, sucking your wall and letting them feel just how spongy they are. He then pulled back and moved his thumb away from your clit- which caused to whine in protest.

He gave you a look, one that made you more wet. His eyes piercing yours as he thrusted one finger inside you. He let his index finger stay there for about ten seconds before he actually began to move it. He curled it around as he experimented with what way got you most closest to your orgasm.

His finger curled inside you as he kissed your clit. Sucking it and gently pulling it with his teeth. He took out his finger and then thrusted two fingers inside, causing your mouth to gaze open and let your head roll back against the mattress. He scissored you- fucked you with his fingers.

Pulling out and thrusting all the way back in. His callouses rubbed against your walls, bringing new sensations that you never thought you’d ever experience.

One his index finger hit the spot that made you moan a little too loud, he knew he’d found it. He curled his fingers even more rapidly as he rubbed that spot inside you. Brushing the pad of his middle finger against it, igniting something within you. Your body felt warm and sweaty.

You were coming undone by a complete stranger that is allegedly compatible with you. Your hands traveled to the top of his head and pulled his face closer to your hide. His nose bumped against your slit, his chin hitting fingers. But he didn’t mind, he knew you were close and he wanted you to cum on his face.

He licked your clit as you grinded against his face, your breaths became short and your grip tightened. With a gasped moan, you came on Leon’s face. Your cum spilling down his fingers and chin. He pulled out his fingers and licked as much as he could, swallowing the grace that came out of you.

Once he finished licking you clean, he pulled back and stared at you with dilated pupils. The black consuming all of the blue as he stared at you like a hunter. He got up from the floor and stared down at you as he became mesmerized with your body.

He pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his broad and muscled chest. He then pulled down on his pants, revealing the bulge in his underwear. Pre-cum leaking through the fabric.

You almost drooled and quickly sat up. Crawling your way to him, you sat on your knees as he caressed your head, encouraging you to do whatever you wanted with his dick.

Your hands cupped his bulge and he instantly inhaled sharply. He shuddered at your touch and so you slowly pulled the waistband of his underwear down, watching in awe as his cock sprung free.

The pink tip leaking ore-cum as aforementioned was a sight to behold. Your hand wrapped around his base as you brought your lips over to the head. Kissing it softly as your hand stroked up and down his shaft. He closed his eyes and gripped on your hair, strands meddling in between his fingers.

Your tongue dragged all the down to the bottom, to his ballsack. He shuddered and bucked his hips against your face, smearing pre-cum along your cheek. You parted your lips and slowly took him inside your mouth.

Your hands found his balls and you slowly massaged them, causing him to groan and moan loudly as his grip tightened.

As his dick was inside your mouth, your tongue flicked down the frenulum- just the underside of the tip where the head and the base join. He gasped softly and moaned as he felt you flick your tongue on his sweet spot.

Your tongue slowly moved down from his frenulum to his base, tongue slurping and swirling around as you took him deeper and deeper into your throat. Not deep enough that you’d start gagging because that would probably not feel good.

Instead, you took one of your hands and resumed stroking the remaining parts of his base as you sucked on on the part that fit in your mouth.

Leon was a complete mess; moaning and whimpering as you took him in your mouth. His feet flat on the floor as he looked down at you with pure list and desire. Your eyes met his and he only felt even more turned on.

His cock started to twitch in your mouth and you knew he was about to cum. You continued to stroke his balls and base as your tongue worked its magic on his head and frenulum.

With a loud groan, he gripped your head and forced his entire cock inside your mouth and shot his cum down your throat. Tears pricked at your eyes as you moaned softly as the sensation of his juices spilling down your esophagus. It was warm, you thought.

He pulled back breathlessly and watched as you swallowed his cum. Once he pulled back, some of his cum smeared on your lips and he watched as you licked it back in your mouth. The sight turned him on again and his cock got hard.

Leon got on the bed and slowly pushed you down again. He took hold of your thighs and brought them up to your chest, “Hold,” he demanded in a sultry and low voice.

Your hands wrapped around the back of your thighs as you held them pressed up against your breasts. He aligned his cock to your entrance and slowly pushed in.

“Fuck- so tight,” he muttered as he gasped for air. You rolled your head back and whimpered as he pushed himself all the way through. His pelvic bone making contact with your bone as he slowly began to thrust- not fully out though.

He rolled his hips in a way that wouldn’t allow his cock to leave you completely just yet. He was going slow and gentle, making sure you’ve adjusted first before he picked up the pace.

Once he saw your reaction- face scrunched up in delight as you moaned quietly and breathlessly. He pulled out and then pushed back in with force.

Leon couldn’t control himself anymore. His hands pushed your knees even more down against the mattress, your hamstrings flexing as he pushed this position even more further.

Your breathing increased- chest heaving up and down. His ballsack slapping against your asshole, causing your wetness to spread throughout your both bodies. His tip gently brushed up against your cervix as he plunged in. One of his hands went down to your clit and began to circle it.

You writhed and moaned even more as he simultaneously triggered your two sweet spots. It was all so overwhelming and your mind went blank.

He was fucking you dumb and you loved it. Your jaw went slack, drool coming out from the ends of your lips. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you still held on to your thighs.

He left go of your knees and gripped your hips, the sound of wet skin smacking echoing through the room.

“Gonna cum,” he muttered. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I’m gonna breed you…fuck- gonna be a good girl f’me right?” He grunted as he kept pounding into you.

His knuckles were turning white from how hard he gripped the fat skin of your hips, as if he was holding on for dear life. You nodded, “Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly.

He grunted some more against your ear and that only caused you to grow closer to your second orgasm. This man was so vocal but it was hot.

“Ngh- fuck,” he moaned as he shot his cum deep into your cunt. Cum spirting into your womb, making sure you took everything without spilling it.

He pulled put and motioned for you to roll over. You obliged and rolled over until you laid down on your stomach. He took hold of your hips once again, raising your ass to his level as he thrusted his cock inside you from behind.

Your face planted against one of the pillow and your hands gripped the bedsheets as your moans came out muffled. Somehow, he hit deeper in this position. His hands went from your hips to your waist and he squeezed it gently.

As he continued to pound into you, your ass cheeks juggling from the force of motion, he took your hair in one hand and pulled your head up. Your eyes were closed as you moaned. This was all so much but you needed more. Completely drunk on his cock is what you were.

He leaned down as he pulled on your hair, “Like it when I fuck you like this, huh?” He taunted. His words were sent straight to your pussy as it caused you to clench around him. You nodded and blabbered stupid yes’s.

“Gonna show me how much you like it?” He whispered as he pulled one and forcefully thrusted in you. You whimpered and moaned as you replied a breathy yes. He chuckled and continued fucking you like a mad dog.

He let go of your hair and wrapped his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers gently pressing on the sides of your throat. You felt lightheaded as he did so but it also added to how hot and turned on you were.

You felt your orgasm near as he continued. Your cunt clenched and pulsated around his cock and it only caused his moans to get short and breathy.

“Feel’s good,” he grunted in your ear. You could only mewl, moan, whimper- all of those sounds were the only things escaping your lips.

His other hand went down to your clit and he pinched it gently, causing a big moan to erupt from your mouth as you came on his cock. Essence spilling down from his shaft and onto the bed but neither of you cared. He groaned and his thrusts faltered slightly as you came on his cock, it felt even more tight and he closed his eyes for a moment as he continued.

But not long after you did he also cum inside you. For the second time. And it felt better than the first. You whimpered from the overstimulation as he shot his cum even deeper, the tip of his head brushing your cervix as his cum (and you were convinced) entered your womb with certainty.

He let go of the back of your throat and slowly pulled out of you. His cock softening as cum oozed out of your cunt and down on the bed. Both of you were left panting and you starting to feel sore and tired already. He looked around to try and find something to clean you with but couldn’t find anything.

So, he resorted to using his shirt to clean you off, “This might hurt,” he spoke softly as he gently pressed the fabric on your cunt and wiped the cum off. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he heard you take in sharp breaths. You were overstimulated and he started to feel bad for how hard he went.

He helped you lay down on your side and dressed you up. He put on your panties but then realized he had torn your nightgown.

“Sorry,” he mumbled shamefully. You shook your shoulders and looked at him with tired eyes, “It’s fine. They weren’t mine anyway.”

You both chuckled at that. You two had almost forgotten the situation you were both in, and maybe that was a good thing.

He pulled on his underwear and pants- since his shirt was used as a towel- and pulled the blanket over your body to give you some privacy. Even though he just fucked you.

He laid down behind you and wrapped his around your waist as he pulled you to him. Both of you closed your eyes and slept for a while, him nuzzling into your hair as your hands rested on top of his arms around your waist.

It was comforting. You felt cared for and that was all that mattered.

-

The two of you woke up to the sound of a door opening. Your eyes fluttered open almost immediately and you covered yourself with the blanket as Leon watched the scientists come in with a suspicious look. He narrowed his eyes as he saw them approach you.

“We’re going to take both of you to the examination room for testing,” one of them said. The other scientists gave you some new clothes before speaking, “We will wait outside.”

After they left, you exhaled loudly. You had forgotten you and the rest of the people were taken for insemination.

You slowly began to pull your new clothes on and walked out of the room with Leon next to you. The scientists saw you both and began to guide to a room down the hall, with two guards following behind you.

They had told Leon to wait in the lobby as they took you to a more private room. A female scientist came up to you and out on some elastic gloves, “I’ll be the one performing your pregnancy test. I’ll be taking your blood so please relax and take deep breaths for me.”

You sat down on the bed and followed her advice. There was no point in fighting or arguing since she clearly looked exhausted, probably overworked. But you couldn’t feel bad. You felt bitter at the fact that you now had turned into a baby machine- along with the rest of population.

With a sigh, you relax your tensed muscles as she took your arm gently and injected the needle on your vein. Blood began to draw from your arm and into a tube. Suddenly, you felt a wave of washiness. Fatigue overtook your body.

The test was over after a few minutes. The doctor withdrew the needle and put on a bandaid, “Okay. Off you go. Test results should be back in a couple of days. For now… I don’t know,” she shrugged tiredly as she moved over to the side of the room where she stored your blood sample with the rest.

There were at least 100 other blood samples. The mere sight disturbed you and you found yourself leaving the room hastily. Walking back to Leon, he looked at you concerned and gave you a once over to make sure you’re okay. Once he silently approved that you were okay, he spoke with a soft tone, “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” you muttered. “Did you know that there’s a bunch of us here?” You whispered as your eyes searched around, “I don’t think we can leave.”

He furrowed his brows and looked at you, “Why not? We’ve done the deed, shouldn’t we be free to go home?”

You shook your head, “No. I don’t think so. I have a feeling we’ll be stuck here if the results come back positive.”

He sighed and looked away as the information set in. Freedom was so close, yet so far.

“So now we just wait?” He asked quietly to which you nodded.

“And now we wait.”

-

Days have passed and you two were called to a room. A scientist sat in the middle of the room, on his chair where he had stacks upon stacks of papers. Both of you sat down in front of the desk and waited for the scientist to notice you two.

“Ah- you’re here,” he muttered as he swiftly began to look for some papers.

“Alright… just to confirm the information is correct. You’re both Leon Kennedy and Y/n L/n?” The scientist asked.

The two of you nodded silently and the scientist continued, “Okay so, we have the results. You are pregnant. Which means we’ll have to keep you both under surveillance. You are to stay in this facility until the birth of your child. You will be assisted with the birth as well as the raising. We will provide all the essential services required for this procedure, all you two have to do is remain healthy. And please, for the love of God, be kind to the child. The couple before me kept on arguing so the least you two could do is pretend you love each other in front of the kid.”

You and Leon exchanged a glance and then looked back at the scientist. You knew this would happen, it was inevitable.

“Before I forget, you two got assigned a new room. On the second floor. Good luck and congratulations,” he said as he dismissed you both.

The two of you stood up and left the room, only to be met with two guards to escort you both to your new room.

You were to share a room but at this point, you didn’t care. You were too focused on thinking about the pregnancy that you had forgotten about Leon.

-

The more you hung out with Leon, you didn’t know if it was by force or nature, the more you realized how kind he truly is. He looked cold and mean on the exterior but inside he was just a man looking for love. Just like everyone else.

The pregnancy went just fine. Leon was there to support you 24/7 and so were the scientists.

When you had to give labor, Leon stood next to you and held your hand.

You gave birth to a beautiful boy. He had your hair while he had Leon’s eyes. You held your son in your arms and watched as Leon looked at you with awe.

What you weren’t expecting at all was that you fell for Leon. Even before the birth of your son, you and Leon actually began dating. The two of you shared some interests and actually liked to be around each other’s presence.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Maybe this was a new type of freedom for you.

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch [pt.2] | n romanoff

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: How is Y/n supposed to process the events of the last 24 hours when life wants to continue as normal? Her head is a total mess but the two people she is closest to are the ones most responsible. In a room full of people, she is the most alone

Warnings: bad coping mechanisms, shitty husband, cheating, mentions of an injury

Pairings: James Barnes x wife!reader, maid!Natasha Romanoff x mistress!reader

wc: 5k

Note: hello :) I am back! This is nowhere near as good as I want it to be but I need to get back into writing so I pushed myself to write this :) I hope you enjoy and thank you for all the love on the first part of ‘Midas Touch’

-⧗-

If Y/n Barnes was a master of one thing, it was pushing her feelings so far down they didn’t dare bob above the surface even just an inch. There was no tell-tale sign of what had happened the previous night…

… except for the dark bruise scattered nicely across her high cheekbone.

James didn’t return home that night so Y/n woke up to an empty bed. It wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but the vast expanse of the egyptian cotton bed sheets encased her body like a glove, and pulling herself out would be an impossible task.

Natasha knocked on the door at 10am, her uniform ironed to a crisp perfection. Flashes of last night blurred through her mind but she cleared her thoughts with a deep breath and pushed the heavy door open after a suitable and swift knock. She headed straight to the long curtains that concealed the balcony doors and tugged them open to allow a small strip of light to dance across the oak floors.

“Good morning, Mrs Barnes,” she spoke gently, watching her mistress smooth her hands over her mussed up hair. The same soft hair she’d felt beneath her own fingertips in an entirely new way. “We have plenty of time, but I would like to remind you that you have your Vanity Fair photoshoot today.”

Y/n groaned and shuffled up to prop her torso up against the thick pillows, the strap of her nightdress falling down her shoulder slightly. “Did we not reschedule that?” She asked, large eyes following Natasha like a hawk.

“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” Natasha replied with a grimace. Y/n rolled her eyes, again, and blindly gestured for Natasha to bring her robe over. Whilst the spring days were getting warmer, mornings still carried a cooler breeze that felt rather harsh if you were dressed in nothing but a silk slip. “I can still call ahead and see-”

“There’s no need. It’s just a photoshoot, not the end of the world.” Y/n’s bleary eyes were still half closed as Natasha approached, rather hesitantly, with the feathered robe draped over one arm. She reprimanded herself to stay professional but as their eyes met, she couldn’t help but see the helpless expression that she saw in them only hours before, the same one she fell for without considering the repercussions. Natasha was sure Y/n could hear how loudly her heart was beating behind her blouse and she waited for a remark or look that would truly test her to the limit, yet nothing came.

Y/n accepted the robe with a tight lipped smile and moved into the bathroom without another word. Natasha couldn’t help but linger on the blue bruise in contrast with her pale skin, but she knew not to mention it. It was just another elephant in the room, which was turning into quite the zoo now.

Photoshoot preparation was fairly minimal as hair and makeup would be taken care of on set, so Natasha just focussed on preparing breakfast and briefing Y/n on everything she needed to know.

“- and I think that’s everything,” Natasha said, placing her pen down on the table. “Oh, um, well, there is one more thing, but…”

“Spit it out, Natasha, we really don’t have all day.” Y/n peered over the top of her large framed sunglasses with a raised brow, watching as the redhead cowered slightly under her gaze. “What is it?”

Natasha swallowed and started to fiddle with her nails under the table. Why was this so hard? “It’s just your… cheek, ma’am. Would you rather we covered it up here to avoid any suspicions, or we could create a cover story? Perhaps you were hit with a tennis ball-”

Y/n held up her index finger, effectively cutting Natasha off mid ramble. The stress was evident in her tone and it was slightly irritating to the young woman who had managed to distance herself from everything rather quickly. Sure, the ache on one side of her face was still there and served as a harsh reminder of what her life was, but she had a part to play, and nothing, not even Natasha, would get in the way of that.

“I don’t care,” Y/n stated bluntly, pushing her sunglasses up into her freshly washed hair. “You can do both, cover it up and make up a story.” Her tone was blasé and Natasha frowned, unsure of how to handle her next words. “It’s not a big deal, so please don’t turn it into one. And James cannot know that you know, okay, or he will fire you if he finds out.”

Her words were like a kick to the stomach and Natasha nodded swiftly before busying herself with collecting the breakfast tray. Despite being the one to end their kiss last night and cement to Y/n that it was wrong, there was still a part of her that clung on to their relationship being forever changed for the better and she yearned for that feeling they’d shared only hours previous. But Y/n cooler demeanour squashed all hope and she even wondered if it all had been a dream. If it wasn’t for the bruise, maybe she would have been convinced.

Natasha didn’t utter another word about it, instead immersing herself into preparations. Y/n was typing away on her phone on the drive over, so Natasha stole thirty minutes to continue with her book. But the words on the pages were simply just that, she couldn’t focus on more than a paragraph. She was hyper aware of the heeled foot bobbing out the corner of her eye where Y/n had one leg crossed over the other as she scrolled through her phone, and how if they were only a few inches closer it would be brushing against her calf. But Natasha shook her thoughts away as they pulled up to the studio and fetched the bags as Y/n’s publicist greeted them at the door.

Natasha was directed to the dressing room, the kind of place she was familiar with, and she laid out her things before hovering by the door. Her role during photoshoots was minimal, and quite frankly she didn’t need to be there, but Y/n always requested her presence as a sense of comfort and familiarity. Things got overwhelming quickly on set.

“Oh thank god, I thought you’d got lost,” Y/n breathed as she spotted Natasha by the soft couch, hands clasped over her lap. “I have a favour to ask.”

“Okay, what is it?”

Y/n peeked down the hallway before quickly closing the door, allowing them a moment of privacy before the chaos ensued. “Will you stay with me all day?” Her voice was quiet, like she was afraid to admit it. Natasha’s eyes softened and she nodded. “It’s just- I’ve never felt as safe with someone as I do with you, and after yesterday I-”

“It’s okay, I’ll be right here, and I’ll hover on set so I’m never far away. And I’ve already sent the message around so no one will ask about your cheek.” Y/n smiled gratefully, counting her blessings for how lucky she was to have Natasha in her life. She went above and beyond her duties and had the kindest heart, one that captured Y/n more than she cared to admit.

Their sweet moment was cut short as a knock on the door sounded, promptly followed by the entry of the glam team. Y/n was swooped away into hair and makeup, a simple yet versatile look that could be adapted to fit each outfit. Natasha watched like a hawk, scanning Y/n’s body language for any signs of discomfort. But her mistress was also a professional when it came to performing in public, so no outsider would ever know what was bubbling beneath the surface. She chatted and laughed with her stylists just like any other day, complimenting the soft waves in her hair and the shade of blush used on her cheeks.

The shoot itself harnessed the light and airy feel of summer, utilising bright colours and soft prints that complimented Y/n’s complexion perfectly. She’d worked with the photographer a few times before, with James too, so they worked naturally together, her features enhanced by his skill and her ease in which she posed.

The camera adored her. Which wasn’t surprising, Y/n really was gorgeous. Each outfit fitted her body like a glove and she gazed down the lens with such a sultry look that Natasha shifted in her seat a few times. She watched, mesmerised - this part of her job never got old.

Natasha had come crashing down overnight, the one small taste of her mistress that she’d managed to get had got her addicted and the way the redhead looked at her was far from professional, no matter how hard she tried.

And life wasn’t helping her case either. Not when Y/n came strutting out in her final outfit, a light blue silk dress with a dangerously low back and swooping neckline. She locked eyes with Natasha and winked as the make up artist added a final coat of lipstick before stepping back to allow the set to be empty. Y/n turned at an angle to the camera and looked back over her shoulder, eyes gazing off away from the lens… and straight to Natasha. Her soft eyeliner brought out the colours in her eyes in the most gorgeous way and they seemed to sparkle in the studio lights as she turned and posed, all whilst looking directly at her maid.

Anyone looking at the meek redhead in the corner would just see a maid on duty. No one would be able to see the way her eyes followed where Y/n’s hands went, knowing she’d held them in hers only hours before. Nor would they see how she stared at her slightly parted lips whilst remembering the way they felt on her own. How gentle and delicate they felt, a wild contrast to her captivating and consuming presence that made everyone on set stop and stare. Y/n had finally trusted someone to see her vulnerable and Natasha treasured it like a precious stone, keeping it near and dear to her heart.

The day wrapped after a few hours and Y/n changed straight into a bikini before heading down to the pool, her hair loose and still curled from the shoot. The water was always her preferred way of unwinding and Natasha gave her some space to be alone for a while, something that rarely happened in her hectic life.

The house was peaceful as the afternoon sun warmed the patio where Y/n resided, her legs dangling into the crystal pool water below. Her large sunglasses stopped the glare from blinding her and she moved her feet slowly, following the ripples that she created. There was nothing to be heard but the birds in the trees and the occasional clink of crockery as the chefs prepared a light dinner. Natasha stayed back, her chair placed in the shade to save her delicately pale skin from the harsh sun rays. She didn’t tan like Y/n did, and looking like a lobster was not on her to do list for the week.

But her seat still gave her an amazing view and as Y/n stood up to refill her glass, Natasha took the time to admire her toned body and how it glistened from the tanning oil. Every piece of exposed skin looked smooth and she knew it would feel just as soft under her fingertips.

Her attentive ears picked up the sound of heavy footsteps across the marble floors and Natasha sat up a little straighter as James appeared in the doorway. He was focused on the woman by the pool, her damp hair sticking to her exposed back as it dried in the heat. With four strides he was at the pool edge, saying something that made Y/n climb to her feet.

Natasha was used to their PDA, but this one felt wrong to watch. The second their lips touched, she brought her book closer, trying to distract herself. But the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t keep looking away. She saw how James’ hand instantly found the curve of Y/n’s lower back and pressed her body into him as he held the back of her head to kiss her. Natasha saw Y/n almost melted into his touch and she cursed how natural they looked. Was everything okay with them? Had Y/n really pushed her pain that far down that she could forgive her husband in two seconds? Or was this all just an act that the couple had perfected over time because this had been happening a lot longer than Natasha knew. She dreaded to consider the latter but the sinking feeling in her stomach wouldn’t let it go.

At the poolside, Y/n finally pulled away from James, her lips slightly numb. “Where were you?” she muttered quietly, not fully looking him in the eye as he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Work, doll, you know how hectic it gets sometimes.” There was something off about him, but Y/n was too exhausted to pry so she let her eyes fall to the exposed chain resting on his chest thanks to the buttons undone on his shirt. “Have you been good today?”

“Had a photoshoot,” Y/n replied, and James tensed, gripping her waist firmer as he waited for her next words. “The one for Vanity Fair’s cover next month.”

James grunted in response and dragged his hand up his wife’s body, raking in her figure in her small black bikini. Natasha watched over the top of her book, perplexed. No one could see how uncomfortable Y/n was as James’ hand gripped the back of her neck and guided her inside, her facade was good, but she prayed it would be obvious as they passed the redhead who could only pretend she didn’t see them. Y/n desperately tried to make eye contact with her maid but Natasha ignored her, sending a shudder down her spine as James’ grip hardened.

“Why are you so quiet today? Cat got your tongue?” James asked once the bedroom door was closed and the couple were finally alone. Y/n lingered by the bed as he discarded his button down shirt in exchange for a lighter and more simple one. “I asked you a question, Y/n.”

“I’m just tired from the shoot,” she replied, eyes flitting over his muscular back. “And the constant dodging of questions.” Y/n saw the way he froze, still with his back turned, and the confidence that had blossomed in her chest for a moment was snuffed out.

“Excuse me?”

Her chest heaved as her breathing sped up but she stood her ground, using the mattress behind her knees for support. “It’s hard to lie through my teeth when people are asking about the bruise on my face and I can’t tell them it was my husband. Photoshop is really going to save you-”

“What did you tell them?” James demanded as he stormed over, towering over her as he gripped her upper arm. “Did you dare?”

“I told them it was a tennis ball.” Relief flooded James’ face and he let her go, creating space between them. Y/n saw the way he looked at her cheek that was still covered with makeup. “Didn’t want to risk getting another one if you found out I’d told the truth.” The words were out before she could stop them and Y/n braced herself for the impact, expecting the inevitable.

But it didn’t come.

A hand touched her cheek, making her flinch, before it slid down to her waist and James knelt before her, his head resting on her bare stomach. His sudden change was unnerving and Y/n didn’t know what to do. He was leaning against her like a child, apologising and mumbling like a madman, and part of her wanted to push him away, but it would be a step too far. She just stood and listened to his apologies, once again blaming his work for making him aggressive and swearing that he’d never lay a hand on her again.

Part of her believed him, the naive part, but as she screwed her eyes shut, all she saw was Natasha. How gentle her touch was, something James could never do. He was always rough, no matter what, his hands calloused from years of fighting. The way Natasha’s palm felt against her burning cheeks would never be matched by anyone else and no matter how hard Y/n tried to imagine that the hands that were running across her back now belonged to her maid, she knew what Natasha’s touch was like and she couldn’t pretend anymore.

The moment the kisses started across her lower stomach, Y/n pushed James’ head away and sat down on the soft duvet, taking his hand in hers.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.”

Lies.

But for the sake of her life and safety, it was all she could say.

James was no knight in shining armour, despite his skillset. No, her true saviour knocked on the door in that moment, knocking the air out of her lungs as she breathed a sigh of relief. Natasha knew not to enter unless ordered, so Y/n scurried to the door and visibly softened at the sight of the redhead who’s cheeks were slightly flushed.

Right, Y/n was still in her bikini.

“I’m just here to say that dinner is ready and on the patio when you both are available,” she announced, smiling politely at James who had joined his wife at the door, his hand sliding around her waist possessively. “Chef prepared those oysters you requested, Mr Barnes.”

“Thank you, Natasha, Y/n and I will be right there.” The redhead didn’t linger, instead disappearing back down the stairs in a hurry.

“I’m just going to get changed, I’ll meet you down there,” Y/n said, wriggling out of his hold as soon as she could. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Don’t be too long, doll. I’ve missed you.”

He certainly had an odd way of showing that, considering he had disappeared for over twelve hours with not a word. But, once again, Y/n pushed that out of her mind and slipped on a simple white cover-up that was modest enough for dinner and padded downstairs to the patio where James had already tucked into his food. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss, more of a display to the staff around them than anything else.

Seafood was never Y/n’s preference, so once she was sat across the table, her fork picked at parts of the salad, occasionally stomaching an oyster that James pushed her way. He glanced at her plate with a frown

“Are you on a new diet?”

Y/n almost dropped her fork and quickly fumbled to catch it before it clattered to the floor. “No,” she replied, mortified. “Should I be?”

James just shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he took a swig of his drink. His tanned chest was exposed and he revelled in the feeling of the sun on his skin, something he missed working in an office all day.

“That’s not up to me. I just want you to look good.” His vague response left a sour taste in Y/n mouth and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, subtly adjusting the way the cover-up sat around her stomach.

“Then why did you ask?” Her mind cast back to the earlier photoshoot and the tight fitting clothes she’d squeezed into per the stylist’s request. Did they all think she needed to be on a diet too?

“You’re so sensitive,” James replied, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “It was just a question, just eat your food, doll. Or don’t, I don’t care.” Y/n looked down at her dish and pushed a cherry tomato around before eventually dropping her fork to the side with a clink. Despite how fresh her salad tasted, James’ words sank to her stomach like a stone and she felt disgusted at the thought. “What are you doing on Friday night?”

“I don’t think I’ve got anything planned, but I’ll need to check with Natasha-”

“You’re coming to the charity ball with me.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand, and Y/n just nodded. “Rogers said it’s non-negotiable and you know how much I love having you on my arm. Rumlow will be there too, which is a bonus.” Y/n’s stomach lurched at the thought of seeing that man again. He was far too handsy for her liking and had zero respect for women, especially her. “It’ll give me another chance to show you off and put that asshole in his place.”

“James, you know I don’t feel comfortable around him-”

“I know, doll. But you’ve got me to protect you,” he countered, subtly flexing his arm that was placed behind his head.

But his words didn’t fill her with much hope. She hated feeling so helpless, but being surrounded by the men that James was associated with through work was like being surrounded by bears in a forest. How could she rely on her husband to keep her safe when he was now part of the reason why her hands shook? His slap had knocked her confidence away just like it did her breath, and the determination and independence she’d felt a few days ago was now nowhere to be seen. And she hated it.

“May I be excused?” Y/n asked, already feeling restless in her seat. James nodded and muttered something about a call, but she was already out of earshot by the time he’d finished.

Her legs didn't carry her up to her room like she expected. Instead, she found herself down the least familiar hallway, stopping outside a door she’d only knocked on once before.

A faint rustling was heard before the door flew open and Natasha’s face morphed from surprise to confusion at the sight of her mistress in the staff quarters.

“Can I come in? Please?” Neither Y/n or James ever ventured into the staff quarters, nevermind the rooms, but Natasha stepped aside and allowed her to enter, excusing how bare her room was.

“Is everything okay? You could have called for me.”

Y/n shook her head as she admired the neatness of Natasha’s living quarters. Her surfaces were dust free and bed made to perfection. “I don't know, I just wanted to get away from everything. And you’re the only person I could think of.”

Natasha frowned, her brows creasing as she watched her mistress peering out of the window at the gardens below. Y/n sensed her close presence and turned to face her, scanning her face and more importantly her eyes. A gentle hand raised to smooth the lines between the redhead’s brows upon instinct before Natasha stepped away, effectively placing a blockage between them.

“We should go somewhere else, Y/n, you shouldn’t be here.” It all felt wrong yet right and Natasha was so conscious of someone walking in on them. “Come, we can sit on the balcony.”

Y/n shook her head desperately. “No, James is out there on a call and I can’t face him right now. I don’t want to feel like I’m being watched anymore but there’s nowhere else I can go except to you and I shouldn’t, but you don’t understand, I can’t-”

“Y/n, breathe, it’s okay, I won’t make you go anywhere. What happened?”

“It’s pathetic,” she replied, adjusting the neckline of her coverup. “I’m just being ridiculous and sensitive, just like he said.”

“James?” Natasha probed, wishing she had been out on the patio to hear the conversation that had clearly shaken her mistress. “What did he say?”

“He just said something about a diet and I overreacted and asked if I should be on one and he got mad and I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.”

“He said you should be on a diet?” Natasha repeated in disbelief. That was another score for the James Barnes hate chart, and if he didn’t pay her wages she’d have acted on her impulses a long time ago. They never quite saw eye to eye.

Y/n winced, feeling guilty for making the situation seem worse. A messy mind led to messy conversations and she just wanted to stop. “No, he-”

“So he said he doesn’t want you on one?”

“Well, not exactly, but that's all I can think about now. He wants me to look good, I’m his wife for god’s sake, I have to.” Her voice cracked and Y/n turned away from Natasha, moving back towards the door as doubt began to set in. “But what if I’m not enough, or perfect enough for him anymore? ”

Natasha had to fight to stop herself from speaking the words on her mind and she bit her lip. “No, Y/n, you are beautiful just the way you are. You don’t need a diet or anything like that,” she spoke softly. The other woman didn’t look convinced, so Natasha carefully stood up and opened her closet door to reveal a small mirror about ¾ of a full length. “Here, let me show you something.”

“Natasha, I can’t-”

“Y/n, please…” she trailed off, holding out her hand patiently. She wasn’t about to force her to do anything, Natasha could see the cogs whirring in her busy mind and knew what she was fighting. Half of her wanted to go and find James and kick him in the balls, just like she wanted to last night, but she was here for Y/n. Not him.

“I shouldn’t even be here, this was stupid-”

“No,” Natasha interrupted, stopping Y/n in her tracks. “What’s stupid is James making you feel as worthless as you do. Why do you listen to him?” Y/n avoided her gaze, choosing instead to twist her wedding ring around her finger, it suddenly feeling heavier than usual. “Do you not see how beautiful you are? How you give your heart out to anyone who needs it without caring what state it is in when you get it back? Do you not see that you are so much more than just his wife?” Natasha’s words were true, but they fell upon deaf ears and Y/n shook her head, reaching for the doorknob whilst trying to hide her trembling hands.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, not giving Natasha a chance to stop her before slipping back out into the hallway where she came from.

Natasha watched the door close dejectedly, her heart sinking. “Do you not see how much I love you?”

Y/n sped down the hallway with glassy eyes, her head more clouded than ever. She had so many questions, but who was she to ask when the two closest to her were the ones completely messing with her head, tugging it in opposite directions until the rope threatened to snap. She barely registered travelling back upstairs until she reached the bedroom door and threw it open without a care. James’ head turned at the noise and he spoke down the phone before hanging up and followed Y/n into her dressing room.

Y/n was completely lost with her thoughts when she felt his hands on her and barely reacted to his touch. His lips trailed up her neck to her ear and she tilted her head back purely on instinct. She felt too numb for this, but let him continue because she was his wife and that was her job. Nothing sparked her brain when he pulled her coverup off or when he picked her up and placed her on the dresser in the middle of the room. It was all muscle memory and he was too focused to notice her lack of enthusiasm.

How could so much change in twenty four hours? She lived an amazing life, incredibly privileged, so why wasn’t she happy? Couples fight all the time, her husband was an aggressive man, but a single slap didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. She’d get over it and maybe James would go back to being the loving husband he was before.

But even now, as his calloused hands pulled off her bikini top and pressed his lips to her soft skin, she doubted that her life would ever go back to the way it was. Not now that she had Natasha.

Yet that was nothing more than a fruitless desire. Because, despite her comebacks and displays of confidence towards her husband, he was more powerful than she would ever be and had the ability to ruin her life if she went against his wishes.

Was it worth it? Y/n really wasn’t sure. She would never be certain.

[rikiislvr]

ఌ see you again. | nishimura riki

(based off this tiktok that i sobbed over.. creds to enlupen on tiktok!)

pairing : afab!reader x nishimura riki

summary : you & ki haven’t seen each other since you two parted your ways due to him being a idol and you focusing more on school. until you run into him at a local cat cafe as he was vlogging for his content, does he remember you after it’s been 2 years?

you walked down the street with your beats on, as you came across a cat cafe that was open, you peaked your head through the window to see many cats running around and playing. your heart melted at the scenery and decided to go in.

as soon as you walked inside many cats ran up to the gate that separated them from getting close to the door, meowing repeatedly as you awed. you paid the worker for a hour stay with the cats, as he opened the gate and let you in telling you rules about the cats and what not to do, once he was done you quickly sat on the floor and they all swarmed up around you.

“oh! so cute!” you smiled brightly trying to show attention to them all, you got up to go up the stairs that led to another room, some cats following you as you went, you smiled and picked one up and went inside the room with more older looking cats.

you gasped and was about to take a step to move closer until someone caught your eye, you turned over and who you saw made your heart drop. your eyes began to water.

niki.

he was sitting on the floor with a vlog camera in front of him as he played with a cat, he looked beautiful. his blonde hair rested beautifully over his forehead, a dark jean jacket that popped out his features. you haven’t seen him in years. you wondered if he’d recognize you since he’s like famous now.

you froze. you couldn’t even move. you just admired how handsome he was, he suddenly lifted his head locking eyes with you, making you gasp and quickly look away.

did he see me? oh please tell me he didn’t.. maybe i should go? yes let’s g-

“y/n?” his voice called.

you stopped in your tracks from the softness of his voice calling you. you turned around slowly and niki turned the camera off, keeping his eyes on yours, you swore he smiled, he got up off the floor and slowly walked up to you.

“y/n.” he says looking down at you, he looked even prettier the closer he was to you.

“niki.. i-“ you tried but you felt tears starting to form, blurring your eyesight.

you missed him so much. and you thought he’d never remember you with how famous he was getting, so him saying your name was everything to him.

“i know.” he nodded his head softly, “i missed you so much.” his eyes softened.

you felt your heart warm.

“you.. missed me?” you tilt your head, he chuckled and pulled your arm into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you, him being so much taller than you, you melted right into his arms.

“yes. i missed you so much. i couldn’t sleep at all without thinking of you. ever since that day.” he rubbed your back, you held him tightly, afraid he’d be gone if you let go.

but he pulled away and cupped your face. “you’re still as beautiful as you were before, maybe prettier?” he shrugged admiring your face, you let out a giggle at his attempt to compliment you.

but him? he was gorgeous. he was always handsome but he looked even better now. all those years paid off well for him.

“i cant believe it’s you.” you sighed with a smile, he sucked in his lips to hide his obvious smile. “me either.” he rested his head on your forehead.

“it’s been so long. how are you?” he smiled, “i’m.. adulting.” you giggled, he let out his infamous laugh, it hasn’t changed over these years. “i see.” he nods, he dropped his hands down to yours, as he held your hands.

“you still smell like- ah.. vanilla?” he tilt his head to see if that was the correct word in english, “yes. vanilla. i still use the same perfume.” you giggled at his cuteness.

he stopped talking and his eyes roamed your face. his pretty eyes. you loved just looking at his face. he was truly one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen before.

his blond hair he pushed back falling back down over his eyes. he lifted his hand to cup the side of your face again, you guys stopped talking on good terms of course.

you knew you guys were close to being more than friends but since he had to leave to korea, you guys never made things official.

he stroked your cheek with his thumb, “pretty..” he whispered staring at you with a small smile.

he put his arms back around you, as you felt the warmth from under his jacket engulfing you,

you’ve never seen niki this clingy. but after years of not seeing your best friend, it’s hard not too.

“hey- niki. we leave now so wrap up whatever you’re doing..” the staff says as she was confused at how he was hugging you, before she left the room.

you felt your heart drop. you weren’t gonna see him again.

“please- no..” you shake your head, he sighed, he pulls away as you felt the warmth leaving, as he lifted his hands to the back of his neck, he un clipped his pin necklace, he walked behind you, moving your hair so he could put it on you, you felt tears swarming again.

“keep this. please.” he finished and turned you to face him, “please don’t loose contact with me again.” you sigh, he nodded and you two exchanged numbers for good.

“i-“ he started but bit his lip, “i’ll see you again.” he nods.

you nod to stop any tears, he cupped your face one last time, and placed a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger there before he removed them.

he let go of you and slowly walked to the door, glancing back at you over and over as you stood there, watching his every step.

“i love you.” he says before smiling and leaving the room.

your face melted into a smile. even though you won’t see him as much. you finally reunited after years.

you grabbed the necklace that laid on your collarbones, it was his bobby pin necklace he always wore. you felt so special to have this on. he never took it off, but little did you know, he trusted you enough to wear it, knowing you’d take great care of it.

you just hopped that wouldn’t be the last time you seen him.

no right?

no.

you’ll see him again.

[wandering-winchesters]

Reunited

Summary: After days of fear and separation, you reunite with Dean.

The last few days had been a nightmare—a blur of fear, desperation, and the overwhelming dread that you might never see Dean again. Everything had gone wrong. The hunt had spiraled out of control, separating you from Dean in the chaos. You’d been forced to go into hiding, dodging danger at every turn, your heart pounding in your chest as you wondered if he was okay, if he was even alive.

Every moment you were apart was agony, and all you could think about was getting back to him, to the safety of his arms, to the place where you felt like nothing in the world could hurt you. But that seemed like an impossible dream as the days dragged on, the uncertainty gnawing at you, eating away at your hope.

Then, by some miracle, you got the call. Sam’s voice on the other end of the line, telling you that Dean was alive, that he was safe, and that they were coming to get you. Relief flooded through you, so intense it nearly brought you to your knees. You were barely able to comprehend Sam’s instructions to stay put, to wait for them to come to you. The only thing that mattered was that Dean was okay—that you were finally going to see him again.

The wait felt like an eternity. Every second was a battle against the overwhelming urge to run to him, to find him, to make sure he was really there. And then, finally, you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine, the familiar sound that made your heart leap in your chest.

You didn’t think. You didn’t stop to consider anything. The moment you saw Dean step out of the car, you bolted toward him, your feet barely touching the ground as you sprinted across the distance that had kept you apart for far too long.

“Dean!” you cried, your voice breaking with the sheer emotion of the moment.

Dean’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and the look in his eyes when he saw you—relief, disbelief, and a fierce, all-consuming love—was enough to send you running even faster.

You didn’t slow down as you reached him, throwing yourself into his arms with all the strength you had left. Dean caught you effortlessly, his arms wrapping around you like a vice, pulling you against his chest as if he could never bear to let you go again. He lifted you off the ground, holding you so tightly it was as if he was afraid you might slip away from him if he loosened his grip.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice rough with emotion, his face buried in your hair. “Thank God. I thought… I thought I’d lost you.”

You clung to him, your arms wrapped around his neck, your face pressed against his shoulder as you let the tears you’d been holding back finally fall. “Dean,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “I was so scared. I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.”

He held you even tighter, his hands running up and down your back in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that you were really there, that you were safe, that this wasn’t some cruel dream. “I’m here,” he whispered fiercely. “I’m right here, and I’m not letting you go.”

You nodded against his shoulder, your tears soaking into his jacket, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were in his arms, that he was holding you, that he was safe, and so were you. The world could have been crumbling around you, and it wouldn’t have mattered as long as you were with him.

Dean finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that were still streaming down your cheeks. His eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, to reassure himself that you were really okay.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice laced with concern, his hands trembling slightly as he looked you over for any sign of injury.

You shook your head, your hands covering his as you leaned into his touch. “No, I’m okay. Just… just scared.”

Dean’s face softened, and he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky breath. “You’re safe now,” he murmured. “We’re safe. We’re together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you that you hadn’t felt since the moment you’d been separated from him. “I missed you so much, Dean,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

He opened his eyes, his gaze locking with yours, and the intensity of the emotion in them took your breath away. “I missed you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you’ll ever know.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding each other, letting the relief and the overwhelming love you felt for each other wash over you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in the safety of each other’s arms.

Finally, Dean leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

You smiled through your tears, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tightly, so protectively. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back. “I’m right here.”

And as he held you close, his arms still wrapped around you like a lifeline, you knew that no matter what happened, no matter how dark the world might get, as long as you had Dean by your side, you’d be okay. Because in his embrace, you had everything you needed—all the love, all the strength, all the hope in the world.

Taglist: @roseblue373 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @mishreem

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#128 part 2

Jason had finally made it too a safe house, his eyes blurred everything together and he was having a hard time breathing. His soulmate seemed close to death when they switched and Jason began to worry about making it a little. Thankfully the safe house was close to where his soulmate had been wandering. He was getting a scolding when Jason was finally in his own body he decided. He thankfully remembered the combination for the lock and sat down on the couch after locking the doors behind him. 

His head was pounding and he wanted to do nothing more than lay here on the couch but the sooner he got in contact with Bruce and the rest of them the sooner he could find himself in his own body again. He took closer attention to the one he was inhabiting at the moment and noticed a few things about it. For one he was wearing a shiny silver belt that had some bright green, the kind that seemed a little too close to the green of the pit or his eyes when he got angry. He moved to touch it but when his skin made contact he violently got shocked. Now Jason had gotten electrocuted before, but this was on a whole new level. 

This utterly confused him, why was his soulmate wearing something that would cause him this level of pain? He couldn’t have been wearing it on purpose, maybe he was forced to wear it? The more he thought about it the more pissed off he got. If someone was forcing his soulmate to wear something that caused this level of pain to torture him made Jason nauseous. He took a few breaths to calm himself before he thought about what his next steps should be.

First he was going to check and see what supplies this safe house had, it was one of Bats so there was probably a spare communicator somewhere he could use. He carefully got back up from the couch afraid to touch the damn belt again and began looking. He found some first aid and a communicator right where he thought it’d be and he put it in his ear and spoke,

“Hey, Jason here, finally got to a safe house, buddy when you get here you’ve got some explaining to do”

—————

Danny could feel how tense the car was as Batman drove. He’d  be totally excited to be riding in the Batmobile but dreaded the conversations he was about to have with everyone here, everyone being Batman, his soulmate, and all of the people that could apparently hear everything through the helmet he was wearing. Danny was afraid to take it off at this point seeing as Batman had been almost silent the whole way. 

Danny had a few moments to actually think about things. The most pressing being his soulmate was in his half almost fully dead body. He knew he was wearing ratty clothes and a specter deflector last. They made him wear it at the facility and he really hoped his soulmate hadn’t tried to touch it. 

Another thing that had bothered him is the body he was currently in. It felt off, not half dead like his own but something similar. He could feel the ectoplasm flowing through his veins but it was much less than what he had. Jason was more alive than Danny was especially at the moment. 

He’d panic a bit more about not knowing the state his soulmate and body were except his helmet crackled back to life,

“Hey, Jason here, finally got to a safe house, buddy when you get here you’ve got some explaining to do”

It felt weird hearing his own voice in the tone of a stranger and he felt it was probably the same for him.

“Jason I’m in the car with your soulmate, let me know your position,” Batman said his voice crackled in his ears. Danny wasn’t sure what to say, he was worried about his soulmate but he sounded really pissed. Probably because Danny took his chance to kill the Joker, he assumed his soulmate intended to kill him anyways since the safety was off.

Danny kept silent throughout the rest of the trip after Jason told them his location. He was honestly a little terrified, he wouldn’t doubt that his soulmate knew Batman with the way they were talking to each other so he went through what he knew about the bats. He went through all of the bats he knew and came to the conclusion that his soulmate must have been Red Hood which meant he was in Red Hoods body at the moment and that thought didn’t help comfort him at all. 

That also meant that Red Hood was his soulmate and that terrified him even more. He’d heard stories, mostly from Sam who kept an eye on everything Gotham related seeing as it was her favorite city. Danny missed his friends, they had seen him get kidnapped by the GIW and tried their best to free him but it wasn’t any use.

Danny spent months in the facility and if it wasn’t for the GIWs own incompetence he’d still be there. They had done some terrible things to him during his captivity. They were in the middle of moving him back to his cell when the lights went out. They hadn’t thought to install a back up generator so the ghost shield had temporarily gone down. He was able to fight them back and escape somehow but the belt he was forced to wear made it impossible for him to use his powers. 

He had been on the run for about a week when the switch happened. 

He tensed a little as Batman parked the car. 

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[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

I Won't Lose You

I've been told by all my friends who have played bg3 that durge runs should not be the first run of the game but here I am, doing just that. In my defense, I want to go around as a fictional dragonborn trying to kill most things and save scumming on dialogue choices for approval ratings.

Summary: The dark urge takes over when Astarion gets injured in battle. In the aftermath, you flee, afraid of what the others think of you now but Astarion goes after you to bring you back to camp and reassure you that nothing has changed.

When the arrow pierces through his shoulder, all you can see is red. Blood roars in your ears, a scream tears itself from your throat and you change. You become a different person, your legs move of their own accord, the dagger in your hand twirls and you stab downwards. Over and over again you stab, blood splattering all over you but you don’t care. You’re not thinking, everything is a blur except the one word that rings in your head.

Kill.

And so you kill, your dagger tearing into flesh and drawing blood with each sickening squelch. The metallic taste floods your tongue and you grin. You feel alive, powerful, invincible. No one can stop you, no one can take anything away from you ever again. Laughter bubbles within your chest, bursting forth as you stand there, head thrown back. Blood drips from your clothes onto the floor but you barely notice it. Euphoria thrums through your veins, you’ve killed the being who tried to take the only thing you have left from you. It feels wonderful.

You feel as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders and raise your arms towards the sky, laughing all the while.

“Try it! Try and take him away from me!” You yell. “I’ll kill you all!”

Adrenaline rushes through your veins as the goblins flee in terror from the figure covered in blood. Your legs begin to move, feet pushing off the floor as you hunt them down, a wild gleeful look in your eyes. Your dagger slices through their skin, ripping open arteries, tearing off limbs and you only laugh harder at their screams of pain.

You slam your dagger into the neck of the goblin leader, crouching on its back as the body falls to the floor with a loud thud.

“No one can take him away from me,” you growl. “Not even the gods.”

You look up to see your companions’ various reactions, but the only one you really care about is Astarion’s. As you take a step towards him, reaching out with a bloody hand, he takes a step back, ruby eyes wide with horror. For a moment, all he can see is Cazador, drenched in blood with a grin so wide it stretches his face, and then he blinks and you’re standing in front of him, a look of hurt in your eyes.

Before your name can fall from his lips, you’re gone, running into the nearby forest. Everyone turns to look at him, the same question in their minds: what did he do?

Back in camp, Astarion tries to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest as Shadowheart heals his injury. He can’t shake the look you gave him before running away, the fear that filled your gaze. He recognised the look, after all, it was the same as the one he wore as Cazador’s spawn – the look of despair.

“I’m going out for a walk,” he says and leaves the camp before anyone can say anything. In all honesty, he has no idea how to find you, all he knows is that he has to. He can’t leave you alone to fend for yourself, especially not in that condition of yours. Letting out a sigh, he makes his way back to the battle site. He can try starting from there, track the scent of your blood and hopefully find you before anything else does.

When he reaches the site, he notices a lone figure sitting by the bloodstained rubble, their knees hugged against their chest.

“Y/N,” he calls out. You look up, and then quickly look back down, curled even more into yourself. Astarion feels his undead heart ache at the sight of your current state. You’ve always been the life of the party – cheerful, upbeat, optimistic. He’s the one who is broody, sitting in the corner and staring at everyone else and yet here you are, sitting all alone in the cold night with no fire to keep you warm.

“May I inquire as to why you have stolen my role as the broody rogue?” He seats himself next to you whilst maintaining some distance. You keep silent, staring into the distance.

“Come now, darling. Let’s head back to camp, the others miss you dearly, not as much as they miss me of course but –”

“Leave.” Your voice wavers. When he doesn’t move, you repeat your words a little louder. “I said leave.”

“But why, darling? You’re clearly cold and hungry, the camp has both fire and food. Don’t tell me you plan on freezing to death while starving? It’s not a very comfortable way to go,” he tuts. “You should choose a better way of dying.”

“I deserve it,” you mutter. “After what I did.”

“After what you did? You killed the goblins and protected the weak, I don’t believe any of that is deserving of such a slow death.” Astarion attempts to lighten the mood but your face remains sullen.

“You know what I’m talking about. I saw it, the way you looked at me. You don’t want me anymore, you shouldn’t. I’m a monster.” Your voice cracks, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“That’s not the worst thing I’ve seen,” his voice drops to a whisper. “And my feelings for you haven’t changed in the slightest. I still want whatever it is that we have, this weird relationship of ours. Nothing will ever change my mind about it. Your appearance simply…reminded me of something I’d rather forget in that moment, but the situations couldn’t be more vastly different.”

Astarion reaches out with a hand, simply holding an upturned palm towards you. A simple gesture, but one filled with so much meaning between the two of you. You stare at it, a hand slowly reaching out before pulling back again when you see how bloodstained your hand is.

Seeing as you are still in no mood to talk, he continues. “Whenever Cazador was covered in blood, it tended to be my blood. Usually it was after he had finished torturing me for whatever sick reason he had and he would smile at me, asking if I would be his good pet. You were covered in goblin blood, vowing to kill anyone even the gods if they tried to harm me. You were protecting me, not harming me, and I am forever grateful for that.”

Astarion takes your bloodstained hand and presses it against his cheek, leaning into the warm feeling, “I need you, Y/N.”

You feel a fresh wave of tears prick at the corners of your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stop the cascade. He shifts closer to you and leans in, ready to pull away should you flinch but you remain still, looking him in the eye and so he wraps himself around you, holding you tightly.

The dam bursts open and you weep, clutching at his tunic. Ugly tears dampen his sleeve, ruining his perfect appearance but Astarion doesn’t care. He’d do anything for you, just like how you’d do anything for him. The vampire spawn rests a reassuring hand on the back of your head while the other rubs circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Right now, only you matter, and if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he would be that shoulder.

“I can’t lose you,” you sob through the tears. “I’ve lost everything else already, I can’t lose you too. WIthout you, I…I don’t know what to do. You’re the only one who keeps me going.”

Astarion presses his lips to your head, closing his eyes as he takes in your sweet scent, “I can’t lose you either, Y/N, and I promise, we will remain by each other’s side forever.”

His words make you cry harder and you bury yourself into his chest, crying until you have nothing left to give and lie there panting, cries reduced to sniffles. Astarion kisses away the tears that remain on your cheek, lips lingering longer than necessary with each kiss before pressing his forehead against yours.

“All these years, I’ve always wondered if anyone would ever care about me to the point where they would do anything to protect me, and now I’ve found my answer in you,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t be happier knowing that you would choose me over everything else.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back. “Thank you, for accepting me after seeing what I really am.”

“Any time, dearest.” He continues to cradle you in his arms, gently swaying from side to side. As your eyelids begin to flutter shut, he decides that tonight, it can’t just be you who is vulnerable. You trust him enough to drop your guard to this extent around him, he wants to repay the favour.

“I had a nightmare about you, just the other night.” He gently pushes your hair out of your face, tracing your jawline. He’s been wanting to keep this a secret, afraid of scaring you but since you had challenged the gods themselves, perhaps a vampire wasn’t that scary in comparison.

“Did I look hot in it?”

Astarion blinks in surprise. Maybe he was rubbing off on you too much. Amusement colours his face as he gives your cheek a poke and pouts. “First you steal my role as the broody rogue in the party and now you try to take my place as the residential flirt?”

“It’s all your fault,” you huff good naturedly, folding your arms across your chest. “You’ve been a terrible influence on me.”

He smiles softly, giving you a peck on the lips, “I suppose I have. Although I must say, you have a long way to go before you can ever reach my level.”

“I can’t possibly put you out of a job, can I? Whatever will I do to keep my vampire lover around then?”

“You simply need to exist, darling. That is all.”

Your gaze softens and you press your lips against his, kissing him deeply.

“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” You ask once you reluctantly break away from the kiss to breathe. He nods, swallowing hard.

“Cazador had you. He threatened to kill you unless I returned to him, threatened to turn you into one of his spawn just like me and make you suffer for an eternity while I watched. You swore and cursed at me, saying all this was my fault, that it was all because of me that you were now on the cusp of being turned into a vampire spawn, and I –” His fingers tremble. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Star –”

“I hesitated! I thought about putting myself before you, and I –”

“I want you to do that.”

His eyes widen, “darling, you can’t possibly –”

“Star, you’ve spent far too long putting everyone before yourself. You need to start putting yourself before others from time to time, to stand up for yourself. I want you to live your own life, not someone else’s. And if Cazador ever comes for us, well I won’t let him separate us. We’ll have each other’s backs as we always do, and he won’t stand a chance.”

You say it with such certainty that Astarion almost believes you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head reminds him of how strong Cazador is. Yet, looking deep into your eyes and seeing your resolve, a small part of him dares to hope again. Maybe, he really could stand up against his master with you by his side. Maybe one day, he really could be free, but for now, he’s more than content to simply hold you in his arms, feeling your warm embrace and his undead heart soaring.

[strawbeerossi]

This Is Me Trying

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Ex-wife!Reader

Description: Spencer shows up at his ex wife’s door late in the night, riddled with guilt from years of their separation and needing to confide to her why he left her the first place.

Content Warning: Prison arc discussed but no spoilers, mention of PTSD, mentions of drug addiction/relapse, mention of violence, heart wrenching angst, crying, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, lovemaking, aftercare, happy ending.

Word count: 4.5K

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The last thing that she expected was to hear a firm knock against her apartment door. It was ten in the evening, who would need anything from her this late? Maybe it was Mrs. Martin, the sweet little old lady next door, wanting to drop off some freshly baked treat that she wanted her to try before she took it to one of her game nights. Which, Y/N had to admit, she loved when she’d come by with her signature chocolate chip brownies, she always made a heaping amount to share with her younger neighbor just because she expressed liking them one time.

She was approaching the front door. Using the peephole of the door, her heart sunk. Instead of seeing an older woman with a plate of treats in her hand, she was met with Spencer Reid.

It had been years since they talked last, the last time being a tearful Y/N begging her husband not to walk out the door, to stay and work out their marriage that she was afraid was starting to crumble into a thousand pieces. She could remember the bitterness, the hatred in his voice.

“Wait! Spencer, baby, please.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse from sobbing, her throat raw from having to yell over his loud voice just to get him to listen. “I know it’s hard but I need you to stay, we can work this out together. You know that. We always do.” Spencer was turning his head to face his wife, already packing his clothes away. “I don’t want to fucking stay. I don’t want your pity. Ever since I got home, you’re treating me like I’m some sort of child! I’m not!” His tone was laced with venom, enough to make the tears spring up in Y/N’s eyes again.

She knew prison would chip away at the Spencer she’d fallen in love with five years ago but she never expected things to go down like this. She’d done everything she could’ve thought of. She always made him some of his favorite dishes, she’d read to him, she’d hold him when he sobbed in her arms and relived the most traumatic experience he’d went through thus far. It was never enough.

He was different now. Irritable, temperamental, and he had a hard time composing his anger, not to mention that his once beautiful honey colored irises were dull, almost lifeless. He lost himself in prison, he wasn’t ever going to be the same. Instead of always greeting her with a hug and a smile after his days at the BAU or after cases, she was greeted to him starting to distance himself from her. It went from him coming home an hour late, to two hours, then three. She stopped making dinner, she stopped staying up to wait for him, she even stopped trying to reach out to him.

There was guilt, her brain rattled with so many what-ifs. If she left him alone more, would he have stayed with her? Would he have given her the same amount of love and dedication he’d once given her before? What could she have done to make him slowly begin to push her away, to serve her with fucking divorce papers?

Her tears stained the documents, her signature blurred out from how much she sobbed over the idea of losing the one real thing she’d ever known. No matter how much she wanted to hate him for his decision, she just couldn’t. Spencer had her heart, he took it with him out of the door when he left her, tucked away in his suitcase covered by the numerous suits and other necessities.

She was pulled out of her pain filled memories the moment she heard yet another knock. Was this a cruel joke? She was taking in a breath, collecting what little confidence she could manage to build up before she was unlocking the front door, her hand shaking from fear. As she was opening the door just enough to peak her head out, her lips were pursed in a fine line.

“Spencer.” Y/N spoke, her gaze firm on the man who had given up on her. “Hi, Y/N.” His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the tone of their last conversation. “Can I come in..?” He asked, though his hand was slowly resting against the front door as he pushed it open, Y/N taking a few steps back to grant him access. She should’ve slammed the door shut, she should’ve locked it and sent him on his way. Yet here she was, slowly closing the door as she invited him to make himself at home.

“What are you doing here?” It took a lot of courage for her to open her mouth, her arms slowly crossing over her chest. She wasn’t going to cry anymore, mainly because she was so tired of crying over him. She’d done it enough within the past few years, if anything, she should’ve been out of tears.

“I’m here to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Y/N. I haven’t been honest with you. Guilt has been eating away at me and I can’t help but feel shitty.”

You should.

She’d never say it out loud but judging by the face she made, Spencer already knew what went through her mind.

“I just want to apologize. You are owed that much. Whenever I got out of prison.. I was a different person entirely. I stopped putting much effort into any of my personal relationships..” He began, which before his ex wife could cut him off, he was looking up from his feet with glassy eyes. “It’s because I was getting comfort from.. Other influences. Dilaudid.”

Spencer’s last addictions never defined him throughout their entire relationship, in fact, she was proud of him. He’d been doing so good, the temptation coming up every now and then but she’d be there to push him, to give him so much love and support to try and curb the relapse that could occur.

“Drugs change the writing of neurotransmitters in your brain, which can lead to aggression or mood swings. That’s why I was always hostile towards you and why I didn’t want to be around you.” Spencer explained, eyes on the ground in shame while his hands were coming up to rest over his face. “I knew I had a problem, I did. There was one day when you were trying to get me to eat lunch and.. I wanted to hurt you.” His voice broke at the admission, unable to meet her gaze. “That made me realize that I had a problem. A problem that I couldn’t control. If I couldn’t control my emotions, I would get to the point where I couldn’t control my actions..”

Just the thought of that scared the hell out of him.

“I left because I didn’t want to hurt you. It would kill me if I ever did anything to you. I mean, I was already spiralling because of the vivid nightmares from prison. PTSD and drug use are a horrible combination, dangerous. I couldn’t risk hurting you.”

The explanation had hot Y/N like a ton of bricks. How could she not notice he had a relapse, she was supposed to be by his side and she couldn’t even fucking tell that he was struggling with impulse control as well as his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me? Spencer, I could’ve helped you.” She whispered, stepping closer to her ex husband while slowly taking her hands in his.

“Because you didn’t deserve a damaged husband who would weigh you down. I can’t expect you to babysit me all day and night, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You have a career, you have friends, you have so much going for you. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if you threw your life away to essentially take care of me.” His words were barely above a whisper, as if the two had a risk of anyone listening in on their conversation.

“You are not damaged.” Y/N scolded softly while she was squeezing his hands slowly. “Spencer, I love you so much, I’ll always be here for you. Wife or not.” She said softly while her hand was now coming to rest gently against his cheek, as if he were fragile and one wrong move would shatter him like a stained glass window.

Spencer was finally meeting the irises that he couldn’t ever get out of his mind, the way there was a shine in them. Eyes were the window to the soul and hers reflected a beautiful, colorful soul and a strong fighting spirit she always carried with her. Even when she was broken down, that shine was there.

Her love was radiating onto him at the smallest touch, the man’s eyes closing briefly as if to compose himself. “I love you so much, Y/N. I will never be able to forgive myself for the way I pushed you away, the way I ended our marriage. I should’ve confided in you sooner. I just.. I was worried about you.” His words were genuine, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He whispered soon after.

If his pupils could be the shape of hearts, they would be. One thing about Y/N was that he adored her. He cherished her, took care of her. Even in the end when things went south, part of him still had that love that was locked away behind a crippling addiction that broke him down in the worst way possible. “When I wanted to just go back to using, I thought of you. How proud you’d be of me if I held off, how you’d tell me I did an amazing job getting back on track. You are my inspiration.” He whispered, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, holding her face in his hands as his thumbs traced over her soft skin.

There was a soft smile gracing Y/N’s features. “I am so proud of you. It takes a lot to admit when you have a problem, it takes even more to better yourself. Even if I’m not fond of the way you went about it, I understand.” She was honest. She didn’t like how he had to divorce her and disappear from her life. Nobody in their right mind would be okay with that.

For the first time since he’d came inside, there was a content silence filling the living room. It was comfortable. For the first time, home felt like home. However as the both of them stayed within each other’s embrace, it wasn’t long before Spencer was leaning down to kiss her.

Their lips met in a bittersweet collision, as years of longing and unresolved emotions surged through their bodies. The kiss began tenderly, a delicate exploration of familiar territory, before gradually intensifying with the fiery passion that had once defined their relationship. In that moment, they momentarily forgot the pain that had driven them apart, reveling in the sheer magnetism that still bound them together. There was no more pain, no more wondering what had gone wrong.

Their tongues danced in a rhythm only they could understand, tasting the remnants of past love and the promise of a future reignited. As they reluctantly pulled away, their gaze locked, and they both knew that their love still burned strong, an everlasting flame that kept them bound together. After all they’d been through, the love and care was permanent.

While drawing in a breath, Y/N kept her gaze on Spencer before slowly running her hands up his chest. It wasn’t a suit tailored for him like she’d been so used to before, instead a casual cotton shirt. In a way, it was comforting. He thought about her at times where he wasn’t chasing evil men and women on cases, when instead he was home at.. Well, wherever he lived now.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” She asked after a moment, her words coming out slow and her tone delicate, as if she had to worry about scaring him off if she was anything but. “I always sleep so much better with you..” She added on soon after while playing with a loose thread on the shirt, almost as if she had to distract herself from the way her heart was nearly beating out of her chest.

It gave her flashbacks to when she and Spencer had first started dating, the both of them being soft with each other. The way that they’d both be nervous to ask the other to stay the night or when they’d be laying together and spoil each other in the wonders of intimate touch, their lips moving in sync.

That seemed so long ago now.

“Yes,” Spencer responded, not needing to spare a second thought. “I’d love to.” His own heart was racing, the feeling of being home slowly coming back to him. The comfort of Y/N being home, willing to hold him when he needed her. Tonight, he knew he needed her. In more ways than one.

Without a passing thought, the woman was being lifted into his arms while Spencer was reattaching their lips. There was love and need, yearning for the soft touch that they once shared. With the feeling of fingers tangling in his longer hair, he was almost running back to the bedroom that he’d remembered so well.

Without breaking the contact of their lips, Spencer was leaning down while carefully placing Y/N on her back, as if she was breakable. She needed to be handled with care, with appreciation. Not anyone would accept their ex husband despite his faults or listen to him when he’s explaining why he left. Most women would probably slam the door in his face. Not Y/N. Not the woman with a heart of gold. He didn’t deserve her love but she was willing to continue serving it to him.

Once she was on her back, Spencer was slowly pulling away. “I love you.” He whispered, the words just falling out of his mouth, reverting back to the ways that once were. The nights where they’d lay in the darkness, embracing one another during lazy post-coital conversations before falling asleep in those same positions.

“I love you so much.” He repeated as he felt like she needed to know his feelings never changed. His lips began to trail down her neck, his hands running down the silk nightgown. “I love you.” Y/N finally whispered in return, her head relaxing in her pillow while her eyes were fluttered shut, melting at each placed kiss.

Spencer let his teeth graze the now burning skin of her neck, eliciting a beautiful moan to fall from the woman’s lips.

This was heaven.

His lips were moving from her neck soon after that, his head lifting while the two were interlocking in a shared loving gaze. “You can keep going, you know.” She whispered, a little giggle leaving her lips at the way his eyes glistened in the soft lighting of the bedside lamp at her urging him to continue.

Spencer’s fingers were coming up to the flimsy straps of the nightgown, slowly pulling them from her arms while leaning down to trail kisses along her right shoulder. His hands were working to slowly tug the sleep garment off, almost as if he had to carefully unwrap a present to preserve the wrapping paper. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted her to see how much he truly did love and miss her.

He’d take care of her tonight.

Once she lifted her hips to assist in discarding the nightgown, he was drinking in the sight of the near bare woman in front of him.

Spencer had eidetic memory, however, when it came to Y/N’s body, you’d think it was his first time seeing it. The way his cheeks would flush, the way he’d revert back to being the shy man who couldn’t help but stare as if she were a beautiful oil painting hanging in one of the highest esteemed art galleries in Paris, France.

He was now sitting between her open legs, eyes scanning over her body as his large hands were slowly running up her inner thighs. “I’ve missed you, so much.” He spoke, gaze now moving to the beautiful smile that was spreading across her face. “I’m glad you’re here.” She spoke softly, the two basking in the moment. There was no rush, no. Instead, they were enjoying the intimacy of soft touches, admiring bodies, sharing longing glances.

“May I?” He asked, fingers now getting dangerously close to the place where she needed him most.

“Of course.” Her head nodded, a blush on her face.

The panties she had on had a sizeable wet patch in the center of them, her body reacting so positively to his kisses, his touch, everything. His fingers were slowly running over her clothed cunt, electricity shooting through her body at the mere touch.

“My beautiful girl.” His voice was husky now, fingers looping in the waistband of her panties before he was tugging them down her thighs, a groan ripping from his throat once he could see her glistening pussy, sticky with arousal. “God, I love you.” He repeated for what felt like the millionth time in the night.

Spencer was getting up momentarily, pulling his shirt over his head before discarding his pants as well, leaving him in his boxers. As he’d gotten onto the bed, he was now laying between her thighs, hips pressed into the bed for when he ultimately needed relief of his own.

With one hand keeping her plush thighs apart, his tongue was now licking a stripe up her pussy, collecting just a taste of her arousal. Hearing her shaky breath from above him was enough to encourage his movements. After a few more long and teasing licks, his fingers were coming up to spread her puffy labia apart, his lips blowing cool air while the woman was mewling from pleasure, goosebumps spreading across her skin.

He ate like a man starved, his tongue lapping up all she had to offer to him, like eating one of the ripest fruits on the vine that was bursting with more flavor and sweetness after being freshly pulled from the tree branch. His chin was coated in her glistening juices, his nose brushing against her clit while his tongue was focused on swiping over her velvety walls.

With the sounds of pornographic moans filling the room along with the way her fingernails were digging in his scalp, it became to a point where Spencer was desperate for relief, his hips rocking against the mattress while he was focused on bringing the woman to her peak. As soon as he could feel her thighs begin to shake and her words were more incoherent, he knew what was to come next.

It wasn’t long though until he was pulling away, chuckling at the way she was desperately clenching around nothing as soon as he pulled away. “Hold on, pretty girl.” He purred, getting his fingers lubed up with his own spit before he was plunging them into the woman, a low moan leaving his lips as she was greedily clenching around his digits and pulling them in more.

“There we go.” He praised, the two fingers being thrusted inside of her needy core.

“I’m gonna— oh fuck, Spencer.” Y/N breathed out as her eyes were squeezing shut, her words encouraging him to fuck her faster with his fingers. She could feel the coil tightening in her stomach, her moans and whimpers of his name falling steadily from her lips.

All it took was him curling his fingers and pushing against her spongy sweet spot before she was cumming around his fingers, her hips rocking steadily against Spencer’s hand as she was doing her best to catch her breath, chest rising and falling rapidly.

As she’s ridden out the high, Spencer’s hair was being tugged in a gesture that was telling him move your ass, Reid.

So he was nearly stumbling to crawl up to hover over her again, the two attaching their lips in a much needed, more messy kiss than before. “Please,” She mumbled against his lips, making Spencer pull away. “Please what?” He asked, needing to hear her say it.

“I need you.”

Those words had his already hard cock aching in his boxers, making him stumble a bit just to get them down his legs before they were being tossed with the rest of the clothes in the bedroom.

“I don’t have a condom.” Spencer spoke, letting out a hiss of pleasure from the feeling of her hand wrapping around his cock to give it a few tugs. “We don’t need one. I don’t care right now.” Her voice came out in a desperate tone, making the man nod as he was letting her line up his tip with her leaking mound.

He was pushing into her slowly, sinking all the way to the hilt while the two let out a collective moan, Spencer’s head falling against Y/N’s shoulder as he let his eyes flutter shut, kisses being sponged to her shoulders as he gave her a minute. The way her hands were gripping onto him was a big indicator that just like himself, she’d probably not really gotten much action in a while.

“I’m ready.” She whispered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she was practically hugging him close. “I’ll go slow.” He spoke in return, now lifting his head to smear their lips against one another’s.

Spencer loved slow and intimate sex, the way they were pressed flush against one another, drinking each others moans while the world slowly stood still. His hips were thrusting at a steady pace, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his waist just to try and bury him impossibly deeper inside of her.

It was the ultimate form of love. Being able to savor one another, enjoy the closeness. There were times in the past where the two would talk and even giggle with one another while his cock was buried inside of her. It was comforting in its own odd way.

Tonight though, there wasn’t much talking. Instead there was soft, loving kisses, the mixture of moans and groans falling between the both of them, as well as the sound of the bed squeaking along with each thrust that the man made.

There was nothing but love in that bedroom, the two whispering sweet nothings to one another and making promises that would fully be fulfilled going forward. This was going to be the start of something beautiful, that was something the two were confident of.

“I’m close,” Spencer’s words were being muffled into Y/N’s mouth, the woman slowly pulling out of their shared kiss while she was bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks. “Me too, don’t stop.” Her words were soft, a moan leaving her lips as she was letting her eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the mattress as she could feel her stomach tightening again.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Fuck.” His words slurring together as he brought one hand between their bodies, his thumb swiping over her clit in order to have her cum first. He prided himself on pleasuring her first and foremost, himself being mostly an afterthought.

As the warmth of her orgasm was washing over her, Y/N was hugging him as close as she could get him while a soft cry of the male’s name slipped from her lips. Chasing her orgasm, it wasn’t long until Spencer was letting go, a few more thrusts doing the trick as his warm cum was filling her to the brim. The feeling had the woman shuddering in pleasure.

With a thin layer of sweat coating their skin and their bodies still intertwined, Spencer was turning his attention down to the woman who he felt an intense and burning love for. “I promise you that I am not going anywhere this time. I’m tired of fighting M on my own.” His words were soft, his breathing still uneven. “I love you and I never want to be away from you like that again..”

“I love you so much more. You know that I’m always here for you, right? No matter what you’re struggling with. We are supposed to always be by each other’s sides. I made that promise to you and I never intend on breaking it.” Y/N assured.

“How about we to get cleaned up?” The make suggested, forcing himself to move away from the warmth of her embrace briefly. Instead of letting her get up though, Spencer’s hand was wrapping around her ankle before he was playfully pulling her to the end of the bed, making the woman laugh as she was being lifted in his arms.

“You could’ve broke my leg!” She gasped, a teasing tone chasing the words as she was letting her arms wrap around his shoulders, lips pressing kisses across his face.

A she was carefully sitting her on the edge of the tub, Spencer was turning on the faucet. After he’d gotten the water warm enough for the both of them, he’d retrieved the plug for the drain. Approaching the bathroom cabinet, he was kneeling down and rummaging until he was grinning triumphantly as he was retrieving a bottle of bubble bath soap, holding it up. “I knew you’d never get rid of this. As dumb as it sounds, I was so pissed because I didn’t take this with me.”

After putting a generous amount of the soap in the tub and watching it foam up, he was waiting until the tub was filled to their liking until he was turning off the water. He was the first to step in, getting comfortable before holding his hand out to help Y/N get in, a smile on his face. Even if it was a little awkward considering he was a tall guy in a small tub, they managed to get comfortable together with her on his lap.

One of her hands was collecting a bit of bubbles from the water before she was moving to place them over his face, a little laugh leaving her lips as she’d given him a bit of a bubble beard. “How old are we?” Spencer asked teasingly as he was doing the same thing with her, the two unable to help the soft laugh filling the bathroom.

“So, I have a legitimate question,” Spencer began while leaning back against the tub, a smile on his face. “Does this mean we have to get married again?”

The question made Y/N pull a face as she was pondering over the question. He had a point. How did this work?

“I say yes. Only because I think you owe me a much bigger wedding this time.” She joked, making the male laugh.

“My queen gets whatever she wants.”

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤfever dreamㅤ...ㅤ( 제이 )

꒰ ✉️ ꒱ where jay reckons that the stars aren’t worth watching, and so do you.

ㅤㅤ﹙1509﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff, suggestive, bsf2lㅤㅤwarnings kissing / making out, drinking, awk ending probsㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ cooked this up on the way to the doctor's :/ happy reading, pls rb and leave feedback >_< iNDEX

being friends with jay comes with surprises. 

just like the one in front of you— a whole camping scene prepared in front of you even though it’s on the huge open balcony of his house. a tent placed right where the potted plant used to be, decorated with fairy lights connected to an extension board. you don’t miss the amount of pillows inside, your heart swelling up at how warm everything looks, especially at the sight of the endearing smile on his face as he brings in another blanket. 

“i didn’t know you were serious about this,” you could only manage to whisper a few words out of amusement, earning a playful huff in response. 

“of course, i was. what do you even take me for?” you stand still as he brings the snacks from the kitchen— all your favourites. 

all because you mentioned wanting to stay up all night stargazing, and then witnessing the sunrise. it was abrupt, just something said out of the blue when sunghoon asked what you’ll be doing during the summer breaks. you hadn’t enough finished dreaming about it, and jay was already in front of you, turning it into a reality.

he turns to ask you something before noticing your glistening eyes, the tear rolling down your cheek which brings him at a loss of words, the whole scene tugging his heartstrings a little painfully. it isn’t until you notice his surprise that a soft chuckle falls off your lips, your voice faltering for a moment. “i’m sorry, i just—”

“hey, don’t be embarrassed,” and jay knows how you get emotional so easily. he finds it endearing, your tears leaving a twinge of sadness in his chest. he reaches out instinctively, gently tugging strands of hair behind your ears. “i think it’s sweet how easily you are moved,”

you almost freeze at his actions, hearing your heart beats reverberating through your ears, afraid he would hear them too. it’s cinematic how time seems to stop when you look in his eyes— and he thinks you look impossibly breathtaking under moonlight with beads of tears resting on your eyelashes. 

you almost feel your eyes darting to his lips, almost, before you break away from the contact and try to calm your nerves. you grab two cans of beer from the tray kept aside, passing one to him. “let’s make a toast,”

he laughs softly, the sound almost a relief from the sombre mood that had settled between you two. he gladly takes the can and pops it open, taking a sip from his beer can and eyeing you as you take yours. “you’re emotional and lightweight. what a deal,”

all it takes is a playful slap on his arm for you to settle between the pillows and blankets, grabbing a packet of chips. you both had agreed on the ‘no phone’ condition, leaving your devices somewhere in the living room. you didn’t have time for your phone anyway, having your hands full with the opportunity to look at the stars, and jay.

you barely finish a can before he’s reaching out for another, already dazed by the drink messing with his neurotransmitters. this usually never happens, even after two and a half bottles of soju. today, he’s tripping down the tipsy lane, just nodding and smiling aimlessly as you talk and talk— and he thinks to himself how lacklustre the stars look compared to you, and the way the soft yellow glow of fairy lights illuminates every single feature of yours that makes him swoon. 

the stars aren’t even worth watching.  

he takes another swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving your face, just like your gaze that refuses to leave the stars. he studies you for a few seconds, enjoying the blissful silence between you two. you are the one with less tolerance between him and you, but today jay is feeling the buzz of alcohol blurring his conscience. “you really are a sight, you know that?”

it doesn’t dawn upon you how close his face was until you turn to look at him. he takes in your reaction, the way your eyes widen. your shyness only emboldens him further, making him lean even closer, face now mere inches away from yours. he feels the subtle scent of your perfume tingling his senses, driving him crazier than you have already done. 

he reaches one hand to cup your face tenderly, his thumb lingering a little too close to your lips. it sends a shiver down your spine, a sensation that makes it hard for you to think straight. he notices the way your lips part ever so slightly, although not a single word coming out of your lips. “so beautiful,” 

sobriety wouldn’t have let him cruise this far, nothing would’ve convinced jay to act upon his feelings, except maybe a little bit of liquid courage that makes him bolder than usual. his gaze remains fixed on you, his silence giving you an excuse to back down from whatever this could lead to, eyes tracing every single feature on your face. and when you don’t, he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin. “stop me before i lose myself to you, yn,” 

his voice is a heady mix of desperation and desire, as if pleading for you to drive him out of whatever spell you’ve done on him. he watches you intently, waiting for you to push him away, to stop him before he does something he might regret, but your silence only fuels his desires. he moves his hand down to your chin, tilting your face up slightly, thumb gently tracing your lower lip. his gaze locks into yours yet again— an action that sends your heart racing a thousand miles, unbeknownst to him, faster than it was already beating. “say something, please,”

you almost melt under his touch, under his pretty voice and a gaze admiring you as if you put the stars in the sky. it feels like a fever dream to be this close to him, stuff that your highschool self used to daydream about. you would go to bed, giggling about the slightest possibility of him giving you flowers on valentines, something your friend indulged you into. it was a dream, wanting to be with someone who embodied perfection, and yet again, jay was in front of you, making it come true even before you had finished dreaming. 

so, you just stay quiet for a few more seconds that feel like hours on empty before whispering against his lips. “kiss me,”

a pause, his breath catching up in his throat. 

jay wasn’t expecting you to initiate it, it felt like he was going to get a heart attack. hell worse, if he’s starting to hear things due to alcohol. however, your eyes tell a whole different story with the way they’re taking in every single part of him, begging him to do something. he doesn’t hesitate— with a swift, fluid movement, he closes the small distance between you two, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. 

it’s like a need, the way every part of him years for you. the way flesh wants to knit itself over a wound. as if he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs. his lips refuse to leave yours, hands sliding down your body to pull you onto his lap. he deepens the kiss, letting his free hand down to the small of your back to pull you even closer. he feels himself slipping out of his sanity when your fingers get tangled in his hair, tugging onto them ever so slightly. 

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, lips trailing kisses down your neck and leaving faint marks in their wake, his nose brushing softly against your skin that makes you sigh in bliss. he stops abruptly, breathing erratically against your neck before looking up at you. he takes in your appearance, your flushed look with hair a bit dishevelled. you looked like a mess, and unbelievably his. “you’re so beautiful,”

you smile at his words, feeling your face heat up even more than it already has. this has to be a fever dream, you tell yourself, and then cup his face ever so gently. “you should kiss me again,”

he smiles. “you always order me around,”

“kiss me.”

“are you sure?” he murmurs, lips curved into a teasing grin as he leans in even closer with his forehead against yours. “i’m really bad at keeping my hands to my—”

and then you grab the back of his neck, yanking him towards your lips and pulling him into a chaste kiss. you feel him smile into the kiss, his hands resting on your sides as they pull you closer than possible. soft giggles erupt in between, sweet nothings shared between quick pecks oozing with admiration, and ‘i love you’ spun in the air and you realise that the stars aren’t even worth watching, for you have yours right in front of you.

taglist

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Fourteen| Azriel X Rhys' Little Sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Talks of death.

A/N: SO a lot of feelings in this one. I hope you guys like it, I'm really getting excited about where this story is about to go.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

When you wake up hours later, the sun is high in the sky. The first thing you notice is that you aren’t in Az’s room anymore. But instead you’re in the room that you grew up in. You haven't been in this room since you came back. In fact, you’d been too afraid to come up here. Too afraid of the memories it would bring. 

“Az?” You question, looking around the room to find it empty. 

He was gone. No trace of his shadows, even your own that floated about the room seemed to want nothing to do with you. You screwed it all up this time. You used him, Gods, you should never have taken him to bed. That shouldn’t have been your first time with him. That wasn’t how that was meant to go. 

Tears blur your vision as you bury your head back into your pillow and begin to sob. You can’t help the tears, can’t do anything to try to stop them. You don’t want to. You need to feel the pain, because you can only imagine how Azriel felt. How used he must’ve felt, knowing you were only there for a distraction. 

You loved him, so much. But all you could think of last night was not feeling everything else. Then you were so consumed by the feeling of him, that you forgot to feel about him. You felt dirty, so fucking dirty that you wanted to scrub every inch of your skin raw. But you couldn’t bring  yourself to get out of the bed. So you didn’t.

You stayed in bed for the eternity of the day. You didn’t move, opting to stare at the wall instead, feeling everything and at the same time feeling nothing. 

The following day, when you finally dragged yourself from your rooms, you were confronted by Rhys, who had nothing but worry in his eyes. You nearly broke down into tears again at  the sight. For so many years, you never thought you’d see him again. You never thought you’d have him hold you, and comfort you, even if you didn’t deserve his comfort. 

“Take me back to the townhouse,” You cry into his shoulder, “I can’t stay here.” 

“Okay,” He whispers into your dark hair, followed by the sound of his wings unfurling. 

You hold your breath as he shoots to the sky, being as gentle as possible. Azirel must have told him that you had some sort of reaction from flying. So when you land on the rooftop of the Townhouse, you can’t help but vomit into a nearby plant. You heave and heave until there’s nothing left in your stomach. 

“Are you alright?” Rhys asks as he holds your hair back. 

You can only shake your head, feeling the scars on your back burn again. You fall to the ground, Rhys’ arms still holding you as you begin to cry. You sob again, feeling the weight of the world that you now live in. The world without your mother, and even your father. The world in which you were the reason your mother died, because you didn't fight hard enough to save her. 

“I didn’t fight,” You sob uncontrollably, twisting to bury your head in his shoulder once more. 

He smelled like her, and like your father at the same time. Jasmine, like her, and pure night like him. It made you cry even harder. Made you miss them even more. Made your heart break just a little further. 

“Shh,” He whispers, “You did your best.” 

How he knew what you were talking about, you don’t know. Maybe your mind was wide open for him to read. But you couldn't feel him there. Maybe he just knew you better than you thought, even after all of these years. 

“You were a mere child, Y/N, I’m not sure I could’ve done anything differently at your age,” He admits, “No one blames you for what happened. You were a victim, not a cause.” 

Your head shakes without permission. You hear what he’s saying, but you can’t believe it. You won’t allow yourself to believe it. So instead you cry and cry, without the energy to fight with him it’s all you can do. 

Eventually you make your way to the room that’s now been designated as yours, and hide in the bed once more. It’s all you can do. All you have the energy for. Rhys pokes his head in and checks on you before dinner. The twin wraiths leave a plate at the foot of your bed, but you can’t bring yourself to eat. 

All you want is Azriel, but you don’t deserve him. Not after how you used him. Not after what you took from him. Even carrying the weight of your mother’s death, you’ve never felt as guilty as you do thinking about what you did to Az. 

You aren’t sure how much time passed before Mor is barging into your room and clinging your curtains open, “Enough is enough.” 

“Go away,” You moan, turning away from the windows. 

“You aren’t allowed to sulk here any longer. Rhys might be content to let you wither away, but I will not.”

“Leave me alone, Mor.” 

“I won’t pretend to know what the devil happened between you and Az, because you seemed to be coming back to all of us before whatever it was ... but it’s time to move on.” 

“I’m happy staying here.” 

“Don’t make me get Cassian.” 

Her warning made you gingerly sit up, muscles screaming in protest due to not being used in so long. You were allowing yourself to become even weaker, something you swore you wouldn’t do. 

“Talk to me,” Mor begged, “Let me in…let someone in. Don’t keep locking yourself away, both physically and metaphorically.” 

“I don’t know how anymore,” You admit to her, “I don’t know how to be anymore.” 

“What happened between you and Az?” She asked softly, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

You shake your head, unable to put it into words.Cassian was probably the only other one who knew, unless Az shared with Rhys, so he could understand why you were the way that you were.

“I slept with him,” You whisper, “I used him for sex. And it felt so good. But then when I woke up and realized what I had done...I couldn’t face him.” 

There’s silence for a moment, before Mor wraps you in her strong arms. She smooths your hair down, and strokes you back, like a mother comforting her child. It brings tears to your eyes once more. 

“Az wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t want to,” She confirms, “You did nothing.” 

“Our first time shouldn’t have been because I was looking for a distraction,” You cry out. 

She continues to hold you, trying her best to soothe you as you work through everything in your head. You tell her about how flying made you feel, and how you needed a distraction and the only thing you could think of was Azriel. You told her about how you and Lucien used to use one another in that way, back when you were being held in Spring. How you were the first person he’d been with since his brothers held him down as they killed his love in front of him. 

You told her everything. The words flowing out before you could stop them. What you couldn’t put into words you showed her in her mind, so she could understand. She sat in silence and let you talk until you had no words left, and then she did something you hadn’t expected. 

“It’s time to forgive yourself,” She says carefully, “None of that was your fault. You’ve heard us say it before, but really hear me now, Y/N, you know what my power is. So you know I speak the truth, it was not your fault. You did what you had to do in order to survive, the same thing Rhys did under the mountain. You are blameless.” 

“But I-” 

“Your mother wouldn’t want you to live like this,” She states, “So if you’re going to do anything, live. Live for her, because you and Rhys are all that is left of her.” 

You feel something in your chest as you notice a shadow dancing in the corner of the room. It wasn’t one of yours, you realized with a pang in your chest. He was checking on you…even after what you did. He was making sure you were okay. 

“Have you talked to him?” You question, nodding over to the shadow. 

“He wanted to give you the space you needed to figure things out,” She nods, “Not because he doesn’t want to be around you, but because he thought you didn’t want him near.” 

“I always want him near,” You sniff, wiping away your tears. 

“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I see him,” She smiles brightly at you, “Now, let’s get you dressed. The twins made quite the spread downstairs and Feyre and I cannot eat it all alone.” 

“Where’s Rhys?” 

“With Amren, trying to help decode the book.”

You nod and force yourself to stand, the shadow now curling around your ankle in an attempt to get closer to you. Like it knew you wanted Azriel near, but his shadows were the next best thing. You wanted to ask where he was, but didn’t want to know at the same time. You knew he was working his network of spies hard. 

So you eat with Feyre and Mor, laughing about the random stories Mor seemed to come up with over the course of the meal. And once it was over? You didn’t retreat to your rooms. Instead you found yourself on the terrace soaking up the last few rays of sunlight left of the day. Your head was tilted up towards the sky as your eyes were closed. 

You can feel a presence behind you, but you can also feel shadows lapping at your feet. You hesitantly smile and open your eyes, “Are you going to sit?” 

“I didn’t know if you’d want me to.” 

“I figured your shadows would’ve told you differently by now,” You try to make your tone light and teasing, even as you feel nothing but anxiety bubbling in your chest. 

“They did,” He confirms, “But still.” 

You motion to the seat next to you, scooting over slightly to make room for his wings. Those big beautiful wings that even you didn’t touch that night. Truthfully you weren’t sure if he would’ve let you touch them. 

“Do you regret it?” He asks you suddenly. 

You turn to look at him, golden skin glowing in the late day sun. He looked beautiful. He always did. How could you even think about regretting him? Azriel was like your heart walking outside of your body. The missing piece of your soul. You could never ever regret being anything with him. 

“No,” You say quickly, “No Az. I could never regret you.” 

“I just thought-” 

“I regret how it happened,” You admit, “I regret that I used you as a distraction, but I could never regret you.”

His head is bowed low as he nods. You know him well enough to know that his own need to prove himself, to be wanted, is showing through. You’re both broken, in more ways than one. He spent twelve years in captivity, not being shown an ounce of love. You now know what that's like. You know what it can do to a person. 

So, you get up and slide into his lap, gently tilting his chin up so he’ll look at you, “Azriel, I will never regret anything with you. You’re my heart.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his lips. It makes you smile as you lean down to kiss him. Really kiss him, softly and slowly. His hands hold onto your hips, holding you in place as he kisses you back. You can feel pieces of your heart slowly coming back together, like he’s the glue you needed. 

“I don’t want space,” You whisper against his lips, “Not from you. Never from you.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, princess.” 

You stayed with him up on the terrace until the sun was long gone and the stars shone in the sky. You kissed him until your lips were swollen and bruised, but you didn’t care. Being in his arms felt better than any drug ever could. Mor was right, it was time to forgive yourself for everything that happened. 

“I’m sorry,” You finally speak, “For making you feel like I regretted you. For making you feel alone.” 

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone,” He sighs, “Can you forgive me?” 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” You shake your head, “Now come, I’m hungry and smell dinner downstairs.” 

He barks out a laugh and stands once you’re off of his lap, leaning down to peck your lips once more. The simple action leaves you feeling warm all over. Leaves you wanting more from him. But you also know now is not the time. So instead you lead him downstairs and into the dining room where the rest of your family is gathered. 

“There they are,” Cassian all but shouts, “We were wondering if you were going to join us!” 

“Leave them be, Cas,” Mor scolds him before turning and winking at you. 

Rhys is nearly beaming, and Feyre is smiling sweetly at you. You take a deep breath and find your place at the table, next to Azriel, like it’s always been. The conversation flows easily as you all eat. You find yourself laughing alongside Cassian, who’s more or less howling at one point. You feel normal again, your chest doesn’t feel empty. 

“We leave in the morning,” Rhys finally says, stopping the laughter. 

“For what?” You ask, feeling very much out of the loop. 

“The Mortal Queens have agreed to meet with us,” He explains, “You’re more than welcome to join us.”

You find yourself shaking your head before you speak, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Are you sure?” Az asked you, “You won’t be an imposition.” 

“No,” You say again, a little stronger this time, “I think the best thing for me to do is to stay here in Velaris.” 

“Okay,” Rhys relented, “We should be back tomorrow night, at the latest. Hopefully the Queens don’t keep us waiting.” 

So you see them off in the morning and then pace around the house whilst you wait for them to return. Amren, being the only one who can possibly translate the book, is busy trying to do just that. So you pace, and pace, and pace. No doubt wearing down the luxurious carpet in the townhouse. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You know, more than likely, that no harm will come to them. But you still can’t help but worry. 

You finally settle on the couch after an hour or so, and must drift off because you don’t hear them when they come back. You don’t hear the hushed conversation, recounting everything that happened. No, you only stir when Azriel gently brushes your cheek and whispers your name. 

Instantly your eyes fly open and you surge forward to hold him. He lets out a little laugh, holding you back, tucking his face into your dark hair. 

“I was only gone a few hours,” He says softly, arms tightening around you. 

“She was worried,” Rhys fills in for him, “Which she shouldn’t have been, it was just a meeting.” 

You shake your head, and place a kiss on Azriel’s neck before pulling back and giving your brother a crude gesture. He barks out a laugh before motioning for you to follow him outside. You look to Az who just nods, and moves to help you stand from the floor that you’d ended up on. 

“We need to talk,” Rhys said calmly. 

You nod and follow him outside, feeling panic well up in your gut. Something happened, something that would change the course of the war. You could feel it. 

“We have to go to the Court of Nightmares,” He says once you’re in the courtyard, “I told you that I wouldn’t leave you out of this. And as much as I wish she wouldn’t, Feyre is coming, so you have a decision to make. You may come, and play the part, or you can stay here and they’ll know nothing different.” 

“Why are you going?” 

So he explains, putting an emphasis on needing a distraction. And as much as it makes you sick to your stomach to think about going back there, after so many years, and playing the part of the cruel princess that you played all of those years in spring…you knew you needed to go. 

“If you need a distraction, then you really will need me,” You admit to him, “I’m unwed and unmated, from the most powerful line in our history. If Mor was the top of the market, imagine what I’ll be. No male will be paying attention to what anyone else is doing.” 

“I don’t want to put you in that position,” He shakes his head. 

“You aren’t putting me in any position,” You argued, “I’m offering. I won’t sit idly by and let others fight this war for me. If this is what I can do to help, then so be it.” 

“Azriel won’t like it.” 

“I won’t like it either, but I’ll do it. For our family, I’d do anything.”  

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[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

WHERE YOU LEAD ME, I’LL FOLLOW ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; opening up is hard, even under the comfort of a starry sky, seated next to your childhood friend. fortunately, suguru knows you like the back of his hand.

word count; 10k (dont even look at me i got carried away ok….)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers (eventually. probably.), hurt/comfort (mostly comfort tbh), fluffy overall!!, reader is silly and suguru is down horrendous, written with a no curses au in mind, i’m madly in love with suguru geto and it shows

a/n; nothing goes harder than sugu w/ the childhood friends trope i fear. the angst potential, the fluff potential….. the slow burn of it all……….. anyways can u tell i miss him :’3

time goes by so very quickly.

as you look up at the starry sky, the thought envelops you like a fuzzy tidal wave; heavy, suffocating, entirely unavoidable. these days, sinking beneath its weight is all you seem to do.

a sigh flows from your parted lips. soft and quiet, somewhat resigned. the midnight air tastes cold and crispy on your tongue, turning into a flurry of vapour as you breathe it out again, watching it dissipate into the summer night. beyond the boundary of your vision, stars burn in tandem. all you can see is the darkness of the cosmos, pupils dilating as you take in the immensity of the world, the little flickers of starlight that glimmer in that all-encompassing veil of black — blooming out across the galaxy. 

the moon is beautiful, tonight. 

a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling down at you so very tenderly, so gorgeous that it makes your heart ache. shining with a hazy kind of brightness, soothing like the lilt of a mother’s voice. 

and there’s a comfort, in the familiarity of the sight. because the moon is always, always there. always shining down on you, always when you need it most, even when it’s carved into a crescent or hidden by a blur of clouds. a view that never ever seems to change, no matter how many years go by. 

what a lovely thing to be.

another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. time keeps passing you by, never stopping — seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again. 

and, really, it’s a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you’re so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it.

but even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life — 

one thing remains the same.

”ah. there you are.”

(that voice.)

honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges. just a little husky. deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you’re sure you’d still remember it. that familiar, familiar voice. it sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.

it sounds like coming home.

a turn of your head. it’s a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. you do it as if it’s the only thing worth hearing.

and suguru is smiling, when your eyes meet his. that gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. the one that always puts your mind at ease.

a warmth settles in your chest, at the sight of him. hair down, cascading over his shoulders and back, a little messy; as black as the night sky. a stark contrast to the white of his shirt, old, oversized, with some indie band on the front.

his eyes glimmer like little pockets of stardust in the darkness of the night. cutting through the haze, into your very soul.

”… damn,” you click your tongue, faux pout playing at your lips. ”how’d you know i’d be up here?”

suguru shrugs. ”lucky guess,” he lies.

of course i knew, he thinks. finding you is his specialty. always has been. like that one time he found you hiding under a table at your twelfth birthday party, or the time he found you crying in the woods when you got lost on your school field trip.

finding you comes easy, to suguru. almost like he’s always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. you go south, and he follows. you go north, and he’s already waiting up ahead.

he’s worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself, but truthfully it’s more than that. because tonight was supposed to be for you. for the both of you, a celebration of your shared graduation — but before he knew it, you had slipped away. seizing the opportunity as soon as people grew too sleepy to notice. 

(sadly for you, no amount of fatigue could ever distract him from the lack of your presence.)

you look small, suguru thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you’d always go to on nights when you couldn’t sleep. together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again.

back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.

(the safest world he’s ever known.)

the distance between you grows narrower, as suguru makes his way over to you — and it always does, at the end of the day. no matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. one of you always moves closer. as if it’s unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other’s orbit.

suguru plops down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. it’s natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. it reminds you of the gentle lapping of ocean waves at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days, comforting and familiar. a warmth that never goes away.

a brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. the scent that always lingers on suguru’s skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other’s clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, you let a fond exhale slip from your lips. barely audible. and suguru mimics it.

”of course i knew,” he whispers, voice gone soft. ”i know you.”

(your chest tightens. it doesn’t go away.)

another tiny breath flows into the air, as you gaze up at the stars in wonder. ”… yeah.”

the silence between you is a comfortable one. always has been. a little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long — usually you, though suguru isn’t much better. 

but this time, he stays silent.

he’s waiting. you know he is, because he always does. he’s waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. waiting for you to say something, tell him what’s wrong, explain why you’re up here instead of celebrating with the others. waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.

(you’d like to ask him the same thing. he’s an idiot if he thinks a little makeup is enough to hide those dark circles from you.)

suguru is nothing if not patient. so he waits, unbothered by the silence. admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. a vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can’t stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.

an insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart — but he can’t, not unless you let him.

a sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. deep and heavy, like a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. the silence breaks. 

”hey, suguru.”

the man in question doesn’t speak, only emitting an inquisitive hum. he doesn’t look at you, either; a form of respect. knowing you’ll find it easier to get whatever’s bugging you off your chest without him scrutinizing you. 

the pads of your fingers tap at the tiles of the roof. an absentminded habit, as you inhale a bit of the midnight air. it tastes like summer. ”do you remember how we first met?”

suguru glances at you, a surprised glint in his eyes. he can’t help himself — unable to resist the temptation of seeing your face, drinking in your expression.

then he chuckles.

”haha.. are you feeling sentimental?” he teases, a lighthearted sense of amusement in his voice. bubbling up like seafoam. ”did you come out here just to brood?”

the corners of his lips quirk up when he hears you huff, hugging your legs closer to your chest with a furrow of your brow. cheek squished against your kneecap as you meet his gaze.

”c’mon,” you whine, pouting childishly in a way you know will make him give in. ”just indulge me a little…”

suguru smiles. it’s soft around the edges, smoothed over with an unmistakable fondness — and he does indulge you. he always does. ”of course i do,” he assures you.

the silence that settles between your words is tender. a mutual understanding, of sorts.

of course i remember. how could i not?

”you broke into my backyard.”

a sigh. heavy and sharp, as it tumbles from your lips, and suguru has to bite back a grin. his eyes shine with something teasing, in the dark, when you shoot a glare his way.

”okay, first of all —” you begin, ”i didn’t break into anything. i climbed over the fence. peacefully.”

suguru raises a brow. ”that literally doesn’t matter? it’s still trespassing.”

”i was seven years old!”

”some criminals start young.”

another harmless little huff, as you halfheartedly try to sound annoyed. it doesn’t work. in an attempt to hide your growing smile, you tuck your face into your knees. ”whatever.”

then your gaze shifts. towards that expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon, like a moth to a flame. helpless to its charms. it looks like a giant sponge cake, the kind you and suguru used to make when that was the only recipe you knew — you’d eat from the batter, and he’d scold you. then he’d do it too, when your back was turned.

a smile settles on your lips. in every star, you find a new memory; and the fuzzy nostalgia that engulfs you makes your heart feel bare. ”i just wanted to pet your cat,” you recall, softly.

suguru nods. gazing down at you, basking in the expression on your face — peaceful and relaxed, a little more yourself. so effortlessly pretty, bathed in moonlight. ”yeah. i remember.”

he allows the memory to sweep him away, for a second or two. recalling the sight of you, all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. it was like you had just fallen out of the sky. quiet and meek, but looking at his cat with an excited glimmer in your eyes.

”you just pointed to her and expected me to understand,” he continues. a grin blooms on his face, hopelessly endeared. ”you were shy back then.”

a raise of your eyebrow. ”um? i’m still shy?”

suguru gives you a look. he doesn’t have to say anything — it’s written all over his face. the classic suguru look, the kind where you can tell he’s itching to say oh, really now? the kind where he tries to look judgemental, but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.

a small giggle leaves your lips, and suguru smiles, once more. so helpless in the face of your joy.

”then we watched movies at my place.”

you hum. ”it was fun.”

”yeah.”

another bout of silence. soft, terribly precious. the air is chilly, but not enough to make you shiver; a mild summer night, pleasant on your skin and light on your heart. a gentle breeze tousles your hair. in the distance, you hear cicadas buzzing — a familiar sound. unchanging.

(if only everything else could stay the same, too.)

”do you remember what movie it was?”

a lazy smile plays at suguru’s lips, when he angles his face to look at you. one eyebrow raised. ”is there a point to this, or —?”

”i just wanna reminisce.”

suguru pauses. your eyes trail across the view that stretches out before you, from the moon to the distant city lights, as you fidget absentmindedly with the strings of your hoodie. he thinks to himself that you look a little lost. gaze forgotten, within the depths of that endless night sky.

no more teasing, he decides, tactfully. instead, he opts to answer your question; softly, as if he could hurt you if he raised even a single octave of his voice. ”whisper of the heart,” is all he says.

a hum, as you nod. decisively. ”the best one.”

suguru turns his head away, and mutters something under his breath. but you can still hear him — and you know he wants you to.

”spirited away is the best one…”

out of the corner of your eye, you shoot him a thoroughly unimpressed look. he bites back a soft bout of laughter, teeth sinking into his lip gently, not enough to sting.

”you’re so basic,” you grin.

”you just want to feel quirky,” suguru shoots back, instantaneous. ”and you only like it because of seiji.”

”you only like spirited away because of haku!”

suguru closes his eyes, and leans back a little, crossing his arms in a childish fashion — and you know he only does it to make you laugh. ”i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies.

”oh please,” you scoff. ”you really think i don’t remember your queer awakening?”

”hm? what was that?” feigning confusion, he puts a hand to his ear. but there’s a mirth in his eyes, impossible to miss. ”you’re gonna have to come closer, i can’t hear you from here.”

another unimpressed look. you exhale, something in between a huff and a chuckle. ”if i get any closer i’ll be in your lap, dumbass.”

suguru bites his cheek, softly. gulping down the words that almost slip off his tongue.

(i wouldn’t mind.)

”sorry, say that again?”

a little push meets his shoulder, as you roll your eyes. ”yeah, yeah. whatever.”

the banter dies down, as fast as it appeared. then a smile breaks out across your faces, in tandem, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere — and doesn’t it always, when you’re watching the starry sky with the one you love most?

when suguru continues, his voice has taken on that softer tone, again. the one he only ever really uses around you. ”i liked thinking of us as them,” he admits. ”me as haku, and you as chihiro.”

a soft blink. then your smile grows, sweet like syrup. ”.. hehe. that’s funny,” you cross your legs. palms flat against the roof, knee leaning comfortably against suguru’s. ”i always thought of us as seiji and shizuku.”

there’s something faraway, in your eyes. something suguru can’t look away from.

tentatively, his fingers dig into the skin of his palms, and he speaks. absentminded, a little uncertain.

”… they get married at the end, don’t they?”

a pause. then your gaze snaps over to suguru’s, suddenly mischievous — and he regrets opening his mouth.

”oh?” you purr, almost beaming. inching closer, like a predator sizing up their prey. ”oh shit? are you about to propose, mister geto?”

”i’m just stating facts,” he quips, hands raised in defense. desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint crawling up his neck, obscured by the darkness of the night.

”incorrect facts,” you grin. if you notice the blush on his face, you don’t say anything. ”they get engaged. not married. big difference.”

suguru huffs. it’s small, as he tries to keep himself from smiling. the beating of his heart is faint, a tender rhythm, stirred by every move you make. he pushes the words he yearns to say back down his throat.

(i wouldn’t mind that, either.)

again, silence blooms. curling around the space between you. it feels nice, just to be like this; just you, and your very best friend, under the soft lighting of the moon. as if you’re the only ones who exist, in an otherwise empty universe — devoid of space and time. like the night could just stop, and stretch on forever. 

there’s an unspoken question in the air, though. one suguru is still waiting for you to answer. one you refuse to answer properly, until he does the same.

you’ve both noticed, of course. even if no one else has, neither of you could ever miss it. suguru has noticed the turmoil in your eyes, and you’ve noticed the fatigue under his. those little signs of stress, as everything around you keeps spinning on; as the future grows closer, with every passing day.

(it’s overwhelming, you both muse.)

— and finally, you’ve had enough.

”suguru,” you call out, and his gaze finds yours instantly. ”have they been stressing you out, lately?”

suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering softly. a little sleepy. they.

then he smiles. maybe a bit weak, but still as sincere as always — resigned to the fact that he really can’t hide anything from you, after all.

(of course you’d notice it. he was stupid to think you wouldn’t.)

a hum, as he breathes in the air and then exhales it all. trying to formulate the words inside his head, turn the feelings into syllables. and you’re patient. silent, as you admire the way moonlight caresses his skin.

”i’ll manage.” is what he finally says, and your lips curl down into a frown. ”they’ve just been getting on my case, again. you know how they are.”

suguru closes his eyes, and you inch closer to him. barely, by a hair, just to let him know you’re still listening. that you’re waiting for him to continue.

it’s tough, for him. opening up, being vulnerable.

but he knows you won’t do it unless he does, too. so he takes that leap, despite the insistent voice in his head urging him to just keep it to himself.

”it’s just… all these expectations, you know?” he meets your eyes, a little sheepish. downplaying his troubles so smoothly, as if you wouldn’t notice. ”i’m used to it by now, but sometimes i guess it still gets to me.”

you hum, and he continues.

”i feel like i have to be… solid,” he decides on. ”put-together. responsible, and mature.” a sigh, as he wrings his hands together. ”and that’s fine — but it’s like they have everything planned out. like everyone does. how i should act, where i should go…”

suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, so focused on verbalizing his thoughts that he barely notices your fingers curling around his. but he still squeezes them, lightly. as naturally as breathing.

”it’s like my future’s already set in stone. and i’m just expected to follow it,” he looks up at the moon. ”which is also fine. i already know what i want to do. but somehow, all of it just feels so…”

he pauses. unsure of how to put it.

”… suffocating?” you finish for him. 

there’s a second in which suguru can do nothing but breathe. as if frozen, stuck in motion, caught off guard by how deeply your minds are intertwined.

— what a wonderful thing, to have someone pluck the words you’re afraid to say from the back of your throat.

a smile blooms on his face, and a gratitude shines in his eyes. almost overflowing. 

(you’ve always been the only one who ever seems to understand.)

”yeah,” he sighs, relieved. and suddenly his chest feels a lot lighter. odd, how just the tilt of your voice when you say a certain word can chase that discomforting sensation away. 

”don’t listen to them,” you say, assuredly, so softly it’s like you’re coaxing him into believing you. it works. ”they don’t matter.”

suguru chuckles, rueful. ”they’re my parents.”

”so? they aren’t you.” you nudge his side with your elbow. ”they have no say in how you live your life. you don’t need to live up to all those expectations, you know.” 

a soft little breath leaves your lips, and suguru wonders how you seem to always soothe his heart so easily. ”you just need to be suguru,” you mumble, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ”that’s all.”

a moment passes. suguru parts his lips, closing them again when no sound comes out. and then finally, he speaks.

”… yeah,” he muses. ”maybe.”

”definitely,” you huff. ”trust your best friend. i know best.”

”careful,” he teases, tilting his head lazily to meet your gaze. ”you’re starting to sound like them.” the smile on his face only grows when you gape at him, wholly offended, as if you can’t believe what he just said.

”wha — suguru…” you whine, sleepy, clinging to the sleeve of his shirt. digging your nails into the fabric and tugging on it childishly. ”don’t say that. i’m nothing like them!”

a giggle pushes past his lips. ”sorry, sorry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair with his palm. rough hands, big and warm, that always seem to find their way to your skin. ”i’m just kidding. thank you. really.”

the smile that he gives you glows brighter than the moon. he squeezes your hand, softly — a silent i love you. eyes closed, formed into little crescents, and when he speaks he sounds so painfully sincere. 

”i think i’ll be fine as long as i have you,” he says. it comes out sounding something like a prayer. 

the words make your eyes soften. melting into a mellow hue, so full of affection that you can almost taste it on your tongue. 

”everything will turn out fine,” you murmur, consoling him. still not letting go of his hand. ”you have your whole life ahead of you, you know.”

he chuckles. the sound would be sweet if it didn’t have that teasing tilt to it, the one that tells you his amusement is at your expense. ”now you’re starting to sound like my grandma,” he quips, as if itching for something to bicker about.

but you only pout, and let your fingers slip from his. the warmth that leaves you is so jarring that you’re almost tempted to take his hand into yours again — but you just frown at him. ”i can never win with you, huh?”

suguru shrugs. ”need to keep you humble,” he chirps, pulling at your cheek gently. a lazy grin on his lips. ”we don’t want that ego of yours to grow as big as satoru’s.”

trying to keep yourself from grinning with him, you slap his hand away, playfully. ”that would never happen.”

”uh-huh.”

you give him a look.

”my bad.”

a moment passes. gradually, you feel your heart beginning to melt — just a little, but enough to get your voice hopelessly soft on your tongue. the glimmer of the moon embraces every cell in your body, painting over your features with a certain kind of bleeding tenderness. it’s hard to stop it from seeping out.

”you know that i love you. right?” tumbles from your lips, breathed out into the sky, words too heavy to be held back. ”even if your parents give you trouble, and everyone else, too — i’m still on your side.”

”always,” you promise, devotedly earnest. meeting his gaze. and suguru can’t look away.

something flickers, in the depths of his eyes, like a shooting star. something delightful.

he doesn’t quite know what to say. but he nods; almost meek, in a way, and it makes your chest ache. suguru’s always been the type to keep his troubles to himself, content with never letting anyone see into his heart — even if he’d like them to deep down.

if you can be there for him, even just for a night, then that’s more than enough.

he lets the silence linger for a while longer, soft breathing and the rustling of grass filling the space where your words would be. then he looks at you with newfound determination, suddenly, eyes shining in a way you don’t recognize. 

”— and you know that i love you, too.” 

a moment passes. 

an affirmative hum buzzes in your throat, and you give him the ghost of a nod, shying away from his deep gaze. hoping to escape the intimacy of the question. but he doesn’t let you, stare so heavy that you have no choice but to meet his eyes again, after he nudges your hand with his.

the words that fall from his lips surprise you. something akin to a pout plays on his lips, but it’s more serious than that — he looks dejected.

”… do you, though?” he pushes, a troubled frown on his lips. ”do you know that i love you? just as much as you love me?” 

at your stunned silence, suguru sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth over the crease between his brows. ”sometimes i worry that you don’t,” he admits. ”you always think too much. but i don’t want you to ever have to worry about that.”

his voice is firm, when he continues. ”i don’t want you to ever second-guess my love for you,” he declares, and you cower a little under the intensity of his gaze. playing with your fingers instead of looking at him. ”— so i want your answer.”

when his hand finds its way to your face, you stiffen, just barely. but it’s soft, the way he cups your jaw; the warmth of his palm smoothing over your skin. gentle, as he forces you to meet his eyes, tilting your chin up slightly. a bold move, even though physical contact is no stranger in your dynamic. you feel your heart pick up in speed. 

”do you know that i love you?” he asks, and it sounds almost pleading. you can only find it in you to stare. 

suguru’s eyes are filled with something, something you’d like to call love. and they’re looking deep into yours, almost as if coaxing you into drowning in their hue. mesmerizing. ridiculously pretty. if you stare into them for too long, you fear that you might never be able to look away.

but they’re sweet, and warm. painted over with worried hue, something very kind. familiar. the same eyes that have soothed you for as long as you can remember. 

in your flustered state, you can do nothing but blink dumbly — gaze darting from his eyes, to his forehead, to the sky, to his lips. 

he can tell the eye contact makes you nervous, but some part of him won’t allow you to squirm away. this is important. he needs to know that you know. he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at night, otherwise.

finally, you squeak out an affirmative yes. and that’s all it takes for him to relax; in one smooth motion, his hand leaves your skin, a relief having bloomed in his eyes. 

”okay. that’s good,” he exhales. 

swallowing down a gulp, your gaze drifts away from the boy to your left. suguru is terrifying, really — doing stuff like that out of nowhere. you check your pulsepoint, discreetly, just to make sure your heart is still beating. 

”alright, then,” he suddenly proclaims, breaking the fleeting silence. ”your turn.”

a blink. your eyelashes flutter in confusion, as you gaze up at him, a question painted on your features. suguru glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

”you’ve been stressed, lately,” he remarks. stating the obvious so you don’t have to. with a soft gaze, eyes that shimmer with understanding. ”i can tell, you know?”

(yeah. he always can, can’t he?)

”… uh,” you croak. clearing your throat and attempting to gather your thoughts, hoping the words will find their way to your lips. ”well. i dunno, really...”

suguru emits a low, affirmative noise, not looking at you. opening up like this makes you feel so uncomfortable. but it’s suguru. you trust him. and you know he won’t let you get away from this, either; he’ll stay up all night if he has to. just waiting for you to put your faith in him.

a sigh leaves your lips, finally, and it comes out sounding just a tad exhausted. ”i… guess i’ve just been thinking, lately.”

and, really, it’s an understatement. thinking is all you’ve been doing, for these past few weeks. thinking of this, and of that. the past and the future. him and you.

suguru hums. an unspoken encouragement.

”everything is just so…” you move your hands, haphazardly, hoping they’ll make the words easier to say. but nothing comes to you. everything is all jumbled up, inside your mind, and it’s just — 

”overwhelming,” you finish. the word falls off your tongue like a tidal wave. ”everything passes by so quickly, and…” you bite your lip. ”i feel like i can’t catch up. i can’t visualize the future at all, and that’s…”

(it’s scary.)

”— it just makes me feel confused.”

suguru waits. patient, attentive, making sure you get all the words out before he speaks. as grounding as the moon, as warm as the sun. 

when you don’t elaborate further, avoiding his gaze, he opts to finally soothe you.

”that’s understandable,” he chimes, voice buzzing with care. ”you don’t have to think about the future right now. living in the present is enough,” a breeze drifts by, tousling his black hair. ”.. it’s for the best, really.”

a smile. it’s a little sad, as you wring your hands together. ”i know,” is all you can say. because you do. it just doesn’t change anything.

the sensation of your nails scraping against the tiles of the roof is discomforting, but you don’t stop. when you part your lips, your voice comes out tiny. barely above a whisper.

”i’m so afraid of change.”

suguru looks at you. his gaze softens, impeccably.

”everything keeps changing. all the time,” you bite into the flesh of your cheek, harshly. ”i hate it.”

”that’s understandable, too,” suguru soothes. tentative, as his hand goes to rest on your head, smoothing down your hair gently. ”change is unavoidable. but you get better at dealing with it.”

”mm, i know.”

”and some things stay the same, too.” 

you glance up at him, and his eyes crinkle. there’s something unspeakable in them, something that’s always been there. light and heavy, all at once. something a little bit too wonderful for words.

suguru smiles. almost a little shy, as he looks into your eyes. ”like you and me.”

…

a deep love unfurls in your chest, warming you up from the inside out. fuzzy and tingly. but with it comes a deep sadness, bittersweet, that you can’t chase away no matter how hard you try; like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, no matter how many times you try to scrape it off against the concrete.

like you and me.

(he doesn’t know that’s what scares you the most. the thought of that one thing changing, while you just stand there, helpless to stop it.)

”yeah,” you breathe. a wounded little breath.

suguru notices it, despite your vague attempts to act like nothing’s wrong. he notices the fear in your voice, the uncertainty. and once again, he gets the impression that you look a little lost. like you aren’t sure where to plant your feet.

it bothers him. an itch he wants to scratch away. but before he can get to the bottom of it, you begin to speak, once more.

”with you, it’s like…” a breath flows from your lips, as you try to find the words. but this time, they come to you with relative ease. ”if i could do my life over again, and make everything turn out different… then i’d still always keep you.”

silence. you continue, suddenly a little embarrassed at the honesty in your tone. but it’s too late to back out now. 

”and even if everything else changes, if i could pick just one single thing to keep — then it’d be you, too.” the smile on your face is small, a little sheepish. “that’s how it is, so…” 

you trail off. not sure what else to say. suguru isn’t, either; he feels just a little bit stunned, in the face of your sincerity. yet he parts his lips, softly, words making themselves manifest before his mind can even begin to catch up.

”i don’t think i’ve ever told you this,” he begins, not entirely sure where the words will take him. blinking up at the sky, entranced, whilst you look at him quizzically. ”you always call me your guardian angel, right?”

the question makes your lips curl up. it’s a habit of yours, one that’s become almost muscle memory. you don’t remember how it started, but it’s in everything suguru does; from the way he can always tell when you’re feeling overwhelmed, to the way he never fails to bring you a coffee right before your exam starts. 

suguru is always looking out for you, even when you’re apart. like a guardian angel. yours.

you nod. ”because you are.”

suguru smiles, breathing out a fond chuckle, and then shakes his head. ”it’s the opposite.”

you turn to the man beside you, and he’s already looking at you. with his pretty, soothing brown eyes, the barely visible dark circles beneath them. his gaze is warm and fond, grateful in a way that makes your chest squeeze tight. you melt a little, under its weight.

”you’re my guardian angel,” he says, sickeningly sweet. ”always have been. even back then.”

inhaling the mild air, suguru lets his eyes flutter shut. the taste reminds him of the summer vacations you used to have as kids, when you would ride your bikes to the nearest river and play all day. stopping by any ice cream stand you found on the way there; you always took a bite out of his without asking, and he always tried to get angry at you. but he never could. 

on your way back home, the sky was always dark. a soothing blue hue, stars glittering in the distance, while the moon looked close enough to touch. a night just like this one. you’d walk, together, talking about everything and nothing — sometimes he’d carry you on his back. not once did he drop you. 

a breath, deep and drawn out as he exhales, basking in memories you aren’t privy to. a saccharine smile painted on his lips.

”without you…” he muses, voice a little breathless. fond, and somewhat helpless. but he’s smiling. ”i don’t really know what i’d do, to be honest.”

a moment passes.

”it’s the same for me,” you echo, words escaping your throat before you even get the chance to realize their weight. gaze stuck to the stars, as always. ”i can’t imagine life without you.”

suguru doesn’t speak, afraid that his heart may crawl out his throat if he does. the honeyed smile on his face says more than words ever could, anyway. 

a small bout of laughter leaves your lips. sudden, sad, dripping with longing. it surprises you, catches you off guard — like something within you just overflowed. 

“you know what my biggest fantasy was?” you grin, ruefully. maybe just a little manic. ”i used to think about it all the time, when we were kids.”

suguru looks at you in silence, but there’s a confusion in the way he tilts his head.

there seems to be a knot of some kind, stuck in the very bottom of your chest. something that makes it hard to speak. ”i’d get on a train, and just kinda… leave,” you breathe, hoping it’ll unclog your throat. it doesn’t. ”you know? to somewhere far, far away.” 

and suddenly, the world grows just a little blurred. suguru can see it, in your eyes — you’re someplace else now. gaze trained on something he can’t see. there’s an amused touch to your voice, but also something rather pitiful. a childish wish that never came to fruition.

there’s regret, there, suguru thinks; something close to pain.

”maybe, like… a small port town,” you continue, closing your eyes. “with a cute little café close by, or whatever… somewhere you can see the sea.” 

another breath. you pretend it tastes like salt, like an ocean breeze. then you swallow the lump in your throat, and whisper. ”with you.”

when you finally muster up the courage to meet suguru’s eyes, they shine with nothing but pure understanding. he doesn’t say anything, but he understands. he’s always been like that. not a single word is needed for him to ground you, the way a rock always meets the bottom when it’s thrown into the depths of a lake. 

suguru’s comfort is as natural to you as the gravity that keeps the stars up in the sky.

the voice you’ve grown so used to hearing reaches your ears again, and it’s a low sound, a little raspy. but soft. achingly so, enough that you could almost miss it if you weren’t always so aware of every word that falls from his lips.

suguru looks up at the moon, in tandem with you, and lets the ghost of a smile show. ”… you know what my biggest fantasy was?”

his gaze is sincere, a little forlorn; hopelessly softened, as you meet his eyes. they’re painted over with something sweet, and something that looks just a little bit like regret.

a tilt of your head beckons him to continue, and the corners of his lips curl up further. 

”running away with you,” he breathes. ”anywhere at all. wherever you wanted to go, i’d follow.”

for a moment or two, all you can do is stare. 

you feel your lips part, but no sound comes out, nothing at all. suguru’s hair sways with the breeze, softly, and the light of the moon makes him look somewhat ethereal. like he could disappear if you blinked. 

the silence that blooms in the space between your words is fragile. precious, if a little overwhelming, as it stretches out before you — growing heavier with every passing second. so tender that it makes you feel sick to your stomach, as if the sound of the wind whistling could shatter it into pieces. 

(your heart aches, aches, aches.)

a weak laugh bubbles up from within your throat, something raw and tender hidden behind a veil of faux amusement. something vulnerable you're trying to cover up, like the glassiness of your eyes.

like a memory that never got to happen.

”what, so you’re saying we could’ve been by the seaside by now…?” you groan, forehead slumping against your knees with a bonk. ”what the hell, dude…” 

suguru lets out a chuckle, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm and looking down at you with a smile on his face. one that reaches his eyes, glimmering with something akin to starlight.

”we can still go there,” he consoles you, reaching over to tousle your hair with a palpable softness. ”to the seaside, i mean. i’ll take you.”

for a while, you don’t say anything. a pout plays at your lips, as you attempt to get your emotions under control. 

then you lean back, to lie down flat on the roof. the movement is so sudden that it stings a little when the back of your head meets the tiles, and you wince — a soft but exasperated murmur of careful comes from the boy on your left.

your elbows go to cushion your head, as you take in the immenseness of the sky. ”alright, then,” you hum. ”take me there sometime soon.”

suguru blinks. then his lips curl up. ”got it,” he chirps. mentally mapping out a nice spot, trying to remember the timetables at your local train station.

(next week, maybe. a picnic by the sea. he’ll make those sandwiches that you like.)

then he follows your lead, and goes to lie down on his back. right by your side, so close he can smell the fading scent of your shampoo, curled up right next to you. breathing out a sigh as he takes in the night sky in all its glory. 

there’s something tender, in the air. something that doesn’t need words. a kind of comfortable silence that you’ve learned to treasure, whenever suguru is with you.

so you simply stare at the dark veil over the city, in tandem with him — a pitch-black blanket sewn with stardust.

everything expands, before your very eyes; an infinite cosmos, with all the light you could ever want. the stars blink down at you, as if saying hello, mapping out the galaxy. you try to find the constellations you’re familiar with, the ones suguru have taught you about in the past, but nothing really comes to you.

it’s nice, though. just staring at the stars in wonder.

an exhale, as you breathe in, and then out. you part your lips to whisper, breaking the sleepy silence.

”the stars are so pretty….” 

suguru hums, the sound buzzing right by your ear. a soothing summer lullaby, that only you get to hear. ”yeah,” he whispers back.

a moment passes.

then you both part your lips to speak; smoothly, in a fashion that would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel so terribly safe in each other’s company. simultaneous, as the sentence tumbles from your throats.

”and so are you.”

silence. the seconds stretch on, and on. everything goes quiet.

you’re the first one to burst into laughter — deep, the kind that comes from the very bottom of your stomach. almost wheezing, as you try to catch your breath, arms snug around your shaking body. suguru follows close behind, trying to contain his laughter, but you can hear his little chuckles clear as day.

”eww, what the fuck?” you grin, shifting to lie on your side so you can get a good look at his face. ”you’re so corny!”

suguru snorts. ”i heard you say it too, dumbass.”

a little giggle flows from your lips, and you slump against his shoulder, still trying to control your breathing. suguru curls an arms around your midriff, bringing you closer. muscle memory, to make it more comfortable for you.

”haah…..”

the smile on your face shines brighter than the stars, suguru thinks, looking at you with a bleeding kind of fondness. as if you’re the only thing worth looking at.

”i hope things stay like this forever.”

the light of the moon shines down on the roof, bouncing off the white of your teeth. your canines shine in the dark as you grin, youthful — but there’s a sadness in your eyes, now. one that suguru will never fail to notice.

(one he’ll always yearn to smooth away, the same way his thumb always goes to wipe at any stray eyelashes on your skin, or crumbs at the corner of your mouth. muscle memory.)

”they will,” he assures you, reaching over to find your hand. enveloping it in his bigger one, cradling it, linking your fingers together and squeezing them softly. ”i’ll make sure that they do.”

a chuckle leaves your lips, but suguru thinks it sounds a little meek. like you still don’t believe him.

”i mean it,” he reiterates. more serious this time.

”i know,” you grin. ”but, i mean —”

a moment passes, and then your grin falters. ”you can’t promise that, though.” the expression on your face seems sort of pained, now, troubled by something. ”maybe we’ll move away from each other, or just drift apart, or —”

”that would never happen to us —”

”maybe you’ll meet someone.”

…

”a nice guy, or girl…” a sigh, as you run a hand through your hair. ”and then you’ll… i dunno. get married, i guess. and then eventually you’ll have kids, and buy a house, and —” 

a pause. in a smaller voice, you continue. almost childlike. ”you’ll leave me behind.”

suguru bites back a scoff. it takes concentrated effort. he turns to look at you, but you won’t meet his gaze, and a frown finds its way to his lips. ”… do you honestly think that’s what i want?”

another moment passes you by. more seconds lost, never to return. ”… isn’t it?”

suguru sighs, a little exasperated. maybe just a little hurt, too. ”marriage and kids aside…” he mutters, burning holes into your skin with his steadfast gaze. determined, self-assured. the tilt of his voice leaves no room for doubt. ”there’s only one person i love.”

resisting the temptation to keep your eyes away from him becomes nearly impossible — so you let your gaze trail over, and take him in. in all his glory, silky black hair framing his face, a soft look painted over his features. looking at you as if you matter, as if nothing matters except for you.

and again, something breaks out across the scope of his iris, a shooting star you don’t know what to do with. he looks so hopelessly sincere. 

for a second, all you can do is stare.

then you nod, solemnly. ”satoru, right?” you hum. ”you’re gonna break my heart if you keep bringing him up when we’re together, sugu.”

you don’t need to see his face to know that he’s giving you that unimpressed look, again. the suguru look. he rolls his eyes, and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

”i love him too, but that’s different,” he huffs.

”how so?” you prod, eyes crinkling. but there’s something a little meek about the question. he notices it, of course, because what doesn’t suguru notice?

something soft curls around his features, and a hum buzzes in his throat. a heavy tenderness bleeds into his voice. ”i wouldn’t die for satoru,” he says, simply.

a moment passes.

”… you totally would.”

”huh?” suguru blinks. ”no, of course not. are you insane?”

”suguru,” you sigh. ”you are literally the most self-sacrificial bitch i’ve ever met —”

”well, obviously i’d take a bullet or two, but —”

”what do you mean obviously —”

”— you’re the only person i’d die for.”

suguru is smiling, now. amused, sincere. almost on the verge of laughter, the sweet and soft kind that always turns your heart into a puddle. his eyes almost seem to glimmer, in the night, and it’s all you can see for a while. as you try to gather your thoughts, get the right words out.

”… always so dramatic,” you murmur, at last, a little gruff. his smile grows. you shift a little more, lying on your side to face him with a serious expression. ”don’t tell satoru that, okay? he already has it out for me. at this rate he’ll kill me and steal you away.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, deep and fond. you continue, a frown tugging at your lips. ”… and i wouldn’t want you to die for me, anyway.”

suguru lets a giggle slip, a bit too sleepy to hold it back. ”mm, i know. but if it ever came down to it, then i still would.” he shifts, too, lying on his side to face you properly.

”to me,” he exhales, and he’s so close you can smell the mint off his breath — ”as long as you’re by my side, i can make it through absolutely anything.”

the smile on his face is boyish. all teeth and crow’s feet, blooming in the light of the moon, a flower just for you. it’s perfect, you think. you don’t want a single day to pass without you seeing it. 

”me too,” you mumble, linking your pinkies together. a silent promise. ”so don’t die. ever.”

suguru’s eyes soften. 

then he hums, absentmindedly. ”… well. i mean,” he clicks his tongue. ”eventually i will. that’s not really something i have a say in.”

a roll of your eyes. ”alright, smartass,” you scoff, and suguru’s eyes crinkle with humour. ”just don’t die before i do, then.”

a hand comes to touch your skin. and it’s sudden, warm, but you don’t flinch away. suguru smooths over your cheek with the back of his hand, seemingly unable to stop himself. soothing, as he exhales a soft breath.

”… i think i’d prefer that to the alternative, honestly,” he admits.

you furrow your brows, softly. a part of you wants to protest, to call him a selfish prick — for even thinking the thought of leaving you behind without a best friend.

but something in you knows he won’t budge, on this one.

(it’s childish, in a way. stubborn, for him to take a joking conversation so seriously. but suguru doesn’t think he could even jokingly suggest that he’d survive without you.)

”seriously, though,” his voice takes on a firmer tone. ”i wouldn’t leave you behind like that. it’s us we’re talking about. you and me.” 

he says the words like they’re undeniable — because they are. there is no him without you. that’s always been the case, hasn’t it? 

suguru stops to think. do you not feel the same? there’s still a crease between your brows, a sign of worry that’s impossible to dismiss. he can’t help but wonder just how long you’ve been thinking about this; how many nights have you spent sleepless, thinking of the future? of the possibility that it entails your parting?

(the thought makes him feel a little bit nauseous.)

”are you afraid that we’ll grow apart?” he asks, into the haze of the summer night. it resounds in the air around you, softly spoken, gentle but coaxing. almost pleading you to open up to him.

and it’s a stupid question, really. 

of course you are. it’s the only thought that really scares you.

time moves so, so fast — always leaving you behind. who’s to say that suguru won’t do the same? that he won’t be taken away from you, swept away by that flow? into the future, while you stay glued to the past — stuck on the roof of your childhood, while he moves on to better things?

the night sky is infinite. sometimes, on nights that are a little too long, when your mind has grown a little too muddled, you think of suguru as a star in that sky. blinking down at you, while you can do nothing but watch. hopelessly out of reach.

gaze trailing down to rest on suguru’s collarbone, you swallow the lump in your throat. a little too vulnerable to feel comfortable with looking into his eyes, afraid of what you’ll see in them.

but he’s patient. waiting, always waiting, for you to catch up. for as long as it takes.

”… of course i am,” you mutter, at last. a weak little thing. farther down the street, a car swooshes by, drowning the sound — but suguru still hears it clear as day. ”i mean, it’s just…”

a meek intake of breath. you blink, desperate to chase away the glassiness forming in your eyes. trying to grasp control over your wavering voice. ”even if you say that we won’t… it’s not like there’s any guarantee. you can’t know for sure.”

suguru wants to stop you, right there. wants to ensure you that he does know, that it’s the only thing he’ll ever know for sure. just that one fact; you and him. never one without the other.

wherever you’d go, he’d follow — that’s how it’s always been. that’s all he’ll ever need.

but he knows you. knows you better than he knows himself. and he knows that he needs to let you speak freely, without interruption, until you’ve gotten every last worry off your chest.

so he settles for simply looking at you, curled up and biting his lip to stop himself from speaking. wishing he could smooth away the moisture in your eyes, already — but the tears need to fall first. he knows it’ll make you feel better.

”i love you,” you whisper, and suguru’s heart claws its way up his throat. ”i love you, and i want to be with you forever — but…” a shaky inhale. ”but i can’t get rid of that fear. the idea of losing you… i just can’t deal with it.”

”don’t you think i feel exactly the same?” he cuts in, softly. 

a beat. you glance up at his face, for a split second, and then back down to his collarbone. a little fragile, curling into yourself as if hiding. ”i don’t know,” you sigh.

(suguru’s heart breaks.)

”i know that you love me too, and all. and i trust you. but…” you trail off, swallowing thickly. ”you already have your future planned out, and everything. maybe i just… don’t have a place in it.”

suguru scoffs, unable to bite back the sound any longer. it’s soft, but frustrated. ”there’ll always be a place for you in my future,” he vows. ”i wouldn’t accept anything less.”

you cower a little, under the warmth of his gaze. sweet, but stern. so distinctly suguru that it makes you falter.

”besides,” he clicks his tongue. ”i don’t need to follow the future that’s been planned out for me. i just need to be suguru.” a warm smile. ”right?”

at the sound of your own words, a light flush blooms on your skin. but for once, suguru isn’t teasing you.

”and you just need to be you,” he continues, arm still wrapped around your midriff. trailing up slowly, so that his hand can smooth over the back of your head. ”that’s all.”

”as long as both of us do that — we’ll always be together.” he looks into your eyes, and you think you spot a constellation inside his iris. ”won’t we?”

another moment of silence, the familiar comfort that settles between you. there’s no pressure to continue — but you do so, anyway. muddled mind still spinning, worried about this and that, despite suguru’s soothing words. 

a part of you can’t put your faith in that kind of future. one where the two of you are together, that you could envision so clearly when you were younger — when him and you was all that you knew for certain. it’s not as simple as it was back then.

(but another part of you desperately yearns for him to prove you wrong.)

”… but,” you mumble, shaky. ”what if it’s not that easy?” a chuckle pushes past your lips, humourless. ”i mean, you can’t possibly… always stay by my side, you know?”

there’s something childish, in the way you say it. like you’re still kids, and you’re whining for him not to leave you behind. selfish, in a way.

what right do you have to chain him to you?

suguru emits a hum. his eyelids flutter shut, for a few seconds — and then he opens them again. 

”… alright,” he drawls. ”let’s make a promise, then.”

confused, you glance up at him. he just smiles — responsible, dependable. your very best friend.

”have i ever broken a promise i made to you?” he asks, and you pause.

”… no,” you answer, hesitant. voice still a tad meek, a little helpless.

(and it’s true. not once has he broken one. when suguru makes a promise, he keeps it. you’ve always, always admired that about him.)

”right?” he grins, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. admiring your moon-lit features. ”so let’s do it.”

a frown tugs at your lips. furrowing your brows at him, your voice flows out, uncertain. ”promise… what, exactly?”

the moon glows, big and bright. hanging in the sky, a beacon of light, the same as it’s always been. suguru thinks you look radiant, under its illumination — even though you’re nervous, and a little teary eyed. just a single glance at your expression is enough to make his heartbeat soften.

you look like what home feels like. 

he could never bear to let that go, to let you go. his very best friend; the one thing in his past he has no qualms about. the one thing in his future worth hanging onto, cherishing fully. no matter what.

suguru parts his lips, smiling. he links your hands together. ”keep being you,” he implores, steadfast. ”and stay by my side.”

a moment passes. 

something crumbles, inside your chest. unable to break away from his gaze, all you can do is fall deeper into the hue of his eyes, crinkling softly — in the same way they always have. he squeezes your palm in his, tightly. a silent promise not to let you go.

— and then you realize something. the same realization that always comes to you, at the end of the day.

the man in front of you is just the same as the boy you met, all those years ago. the same boy who saw you climb over his fence, and let you pet his cat, and watched whisper of the heart with you even though he wanted to start with ponyo instead.

the same boy, always the same boy, no matter how much time passes. even though he’s all grown up now, features more defined. voice deeper and huskier. hands larger, with rougher skin.

he’s changed, just like you have — but he’s still just suguru. just that cool, sweet boy. a dorky guy who never, ever lets you fall too far behind.

a tremendous softness seeps through your veins. a kind of love, old and matured, carefully nurtured. the blinks you indulge in are slow, and your eyes shine with tears. it’s overwhelming, seeing him so up close, but you still can’t look away. he’s so beautiful it hurts.

”suguru…” is all you can sniffle, meekly.

your best friend is still smiling, fondly. wrapped up in you, as close as he can be. a familiar warmth, like a big fuzzy blanket draped over your shoulders; smelling of cedarwood and earl gray, and just a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. tailor-made just for you.

suguru never breaks his promises.

”but… you can’t,” you croak out, gasping as if searching for air. ”you don’t know if —”

”i do,” he cuts you off, gently. ”i do know.”

a breathless inhale of air, as you grasp tighter onto his nimble fingers. you feel meek, lost. not sure where to put your hands, or what to believe. ”how?” you ask, terribly fragile.

suguru takes a deep breath. oxygen enters his lungs, exiting as he breathes out. a soft flicker of life. his thumb goes to wipe away the stray tear that trickles down your cheek, his touch delicate. and then comes his response.

”— because i need you the way i need air.”

and, really, it’s a sappy thing to say. a little pretentious. he’d feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the soft flicker of the moon, the intimacy of the moment. he simply couldn’t bear not to tell you the truth — even if you end up bringing it up tomorrow, just to tease him. he can deal with a little embarrassment, every once in a while. just for you.

fortunately for him, no thoughts of teasing run through your mind. maybe if you were in a better headspace, a little less of a wreck, you could muster the will to make fun of him a little. who do you think you are, shakespeare? i knew i shouldn’t have lent you that copy of romeo and juliet. — something light and amused, just to distract him from the rapid beating of your heart. 

but right now…

all you can do is take a deep breath. and you think you understand what he means, when that breath of life courses through your lungs.

”i’ll never leave you behind,” he continues, words so very self-assured that it leaves you reeling. rubbing comforting circles into the skin of your palm, without thinking. muscle memory. ”can you trust me on that?”

connected to his gaze, you stumble for something to say. anything. 

but then he smiles, again. that familiar, familiar smile. as soothing as a mother’s caress. and only one single word makes it past your lips.

”… okay.”

you do trust him. more than anyone else in the world. so you take that leap, no matter how frightening it is —

and the world narrows down to just the two of you.

just you, and him, in this one single moment. illuminated by the light of the moon, lying side by side and looking into each other’s eyes, on a roof you always find yourselves at one way or another. laughing and sharing secrets until the sun begins to rise; a silent promise that needs no words. 

(the promise of tomorrow. a summer that never quite seems to end.)

suguru cups your cheek. his touch buzzes with warmth, trickling down his wrist and through his veins — and you melt into his palm, eyes fluttering shut instinctively. the sight makes the corners of his lips curl up, hopelessly.

leaning close, he plants a kiss on your cheek. delicate, tender; his lips against your skin, a silent whisper of i love you. fervent, full of devotion. of a love that’s as steady as the sea.

”i’ll always, always be by your side,” suguru repeats, like a mantra. hoping you’ll feel his conviction through the whisper. ”you’ll always have me to fall back on. i promise.”

a little smile breaks out across your lips, meek and teary. as fragile as a sheet of glass, but still persisting in the dead of night. your voice wavers, as you raise your pinkie, right in front of his stupidly pretty face.

”pinkie promise?”

it’s a childish gesture. something to lighten the mood a little, make it all easier to chew. you expect him to roll his eyes, or raise an eyebrow, or tease you a bit. but he doesn’t.

instead, suguru raises his own pinkie, and curls it around yours. then he smiles. sweet and boyish, painted over with a rosy, tender nostalgia.

”— pinkie promise.”

and you believe him.

you believe him, because suguru has a way of making you do so, even when he has no idea what the hell he’s talking about. with that confident tilt of his voice, that makes it sound like he has all the answers in the universe — that flicker of genuine faith, in every word that falls from his lips, that tells you he truly does believe in them.

you believe him, because suguru is the only person in the world who’s never once broken a promise he made to you. not a single time. and some part of you suspects that if he ever did, he really would be okay with you cutting his pinkie off. a little frightening, the depths of his devotion. the pure loyalty that courses through his veins.

so you believe him.

you believe him because he’s suguru. and, just like you can't exist without him, he can't exist without you. never one without the other.

on instinct, you inch a little closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him extra tight. face hidden away in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do when you were kids. he’s bigger now, harder to properly embrace — but still so very, very warm. 

and he squeezes you back, just as tight. comforting and grounding, and so, so secure. tugging you closer, like he needs to have you near to properly breathe. like he needs to feel that you’re there to relax, melting into the hug with a soft sigh. relieved, that you’re still with him. relieved at the promise that you always will be. 

wherever you go, he’ll follow. to the roof of his home, to the seaside, to the ends of the earth. the same way every star in the sky orbits around the center of the galaxy, endlessly, before burning out into the night.

the smell of cedarwood and earl gray floods your senses, filling your lungs as you nuzzle into his neck. he’s warm, and soft, and your very best friend. 

you close your eyes. indulging in his body heat, every familiar sensation that’s been etched into your bones for as long as you can remember. and you can tell he’s doing the same — breathing you in, arms resting securely around your back, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

and maybe it’s true, after all. maybe suguru really does need you, just as much as you need him.

and maybe that’s all you really need to know.

the moon rests in the sky. smiling down at you, unchanging. a living proof that some things really do stay the same. 

— you hug suguru tighter, and decide that his presence is proof enough. 

[verstappentime]

max revealed this week that he was definitely driving with brain damage after his silverstone crash and struggled to see during his win at the U.S. grand prix that year (3 months later). obviously this yields hurt/comfort maxiel. daniel isn't too happy about all of this. max's poor head hurts.

→ →→ it’s gp who finds daniel, intercepting him as he comes out of his driver’s room. “max needs you, mate,” he says, calm but serious. maybe a little exasperated.

of course daniel goes.

gp presses a water bottle, mixed with some kind of blue powder, into his hand. “he needs to drink this. and tell him we’re having a look at his visor, okay?”

daniel nods, even though that means nothing to him.

he finds max on the floor with all the lights off, almost tripping over him. “baby,” he says, heart already in his throat. “whatcha doing down there?”

max doesn’t say anything. daniel goes for the light switch; max whines straight away, breathing harshly through his nose. “leave them off.” it sounds like he’s gritting his teeth.

fuck. daniel crouches down beside him. “maxy? is it a migraine?” max is all balled up, his forehead against his knees, navy kit making it hard to see him in the dark. daniel sets a hand on the back of his neck – he’s overwarm and still sticky with champagne. he looked okay, after the race. he looked fine. he hasn’t had a migraine in months, after a string of them following silverstone.

max still isn’t talking. daniel’s heart is thumping in his chest. he tries, “gp says they’re looking at your visor?”

max reaches around blindly, finding his phone and holding it out to daniel. “text him and tell him not to do that. say i’m fine.”

“what?”

max waves the phone at him. “tell him good win, thank you, whatever, and there’s no need, and i’m fine. daniel, please text him.”

“max. you’re not–”

“daniel.” max presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. “fuck. just say it. i don’t want anyone staying late.”

“then you’ll tell me what’s wrong?” daniel’s worried enough to resort to bartering.

“yes. sure. whatever.”

it’s enough for daniel to tap out the text, trying to mimic the punctuation max would use. “okay. talk.” max reaches out, and daniel doesn’t realize what he wants until he starts patting the back of daniel’s hand. he links their fingers, squeezing. when max doesn’t start right away, he prompts, “can you tell me why gp is worried about your helmet?”

“on the track. i couldn’t. like. see.” max squeezes his hand harder. “fuck, that hurts.”

“you– what? you couldn’t see what?”

“anything?” max makes a miserable noise. “like, everything was– blurry? is that what you say? and i was trying to focus, it was hurting my head. but i’ll sit here for a while and it’ll be fine. just. probably gp didn’t want to leave me on the floor alone.”

“you– max, what?” daniel worried about this for weeks, after silverstone. he read every pamphlet on what he was supposed to watch for, which symptoms meant max needed to go back to the hospital. watched every meal to make sure max wasn’t nauseous, made him rate every headache out of 10. “you were driving, and you couldn’t see?”

“i was thinking maybe i would stop, but i needed to win this one, and i could, so i did.”

“you were thinking maybe you would stop.” max verstappen was going to pull out of a race. fuckfuckfuck. “max, that really isn’t good. it’s– it didn’t hurt at first? not like a migraine?” they’d explained that in the pamphlet. tunnel vision was a migraine; blurred vision was not.

max gives a little shake of his head.

“that’s. they told us to watch for that, do you remember?” daniel lets go of max’s hand, gripping him at both arms. he wants to fucking shake him, but he’s too afraid of hurting him. “it’s. like. a sign of post concussion syndrome. fuck, max, has this happened before?"

“sometimes in the sim,” max says. “whenever i’m looking at a screen for a long time. i don’t know. it goes away. it’s not– i’m not sick or something.”

daniel wishes he had the fucking pamphlet. “max, it’s been three months since your crash. you shouldn’t be driving, you shouldn’t have been driving, i knew it was worse than you were letting on—”

“daniel, you’re hurting me.” max’s voice shrinking. daniel hadn’t noticed how tight his grip had become.

“fuck. sorry. sorry.” daniel lets go, soothing his hands up max’s arms. “can we go to medical? please?”

“no,” max says emphatically.

“max, i think something’s really wrong.” he thinks of max, woozy on the track, not knowing someone’s coming up on his side. bang. smoke.

“i hit my fucking head at 51G. that is what’s wrong. it will get better.”

max is alive and right in front of him, but he’s thinking of jules, in a coma all those months. “you should have told me. you can’t fuck around with this.” god, he sounds mean, but it’s just that he can feel his pulse up to his ears and he needs max to be alright.

“i just want to go home. it hurts so much, daniel.” max sounds so tired. it’s enough to snap him back. because max actually needs him right now, not in some imaginary future disaster world.

“okay. yeah. i’m sorry, baby. we’ll go home.” he’s giving up too easily, but. max never says anything hurts, unless it’s a papercut or something stupid he can pester daniel about for days. he tries to do some of michael’s stupid box breathing technique. four in. four out. okay. take care of max, idiot.

max lets himself be helped up and settled into a chair. he covers his eyes as daniel turns the lights on. they’ve both long missed their debriefs; daniel doesn’t bother looking at his phone. he assumes someone explained for him somehow.

“there’s medicine in my bag, the headache stuff,” max mumbles.

daniel’s hands feel clumsy as he fishes it the bottle out and opens it, taking out two tablets and pressing them into max’s clammy palm. he hands him the blue concoction gp gave him. “drink that, too, hey?” they’d done this so many times back in july. he’d really thought it was over.

daniel fishes through the bag some more, coming up with max’s sunglasses. max puts them on, looking ridiculous as daniel goes around collecting his stuff. he nurses the blue thing quietly, hugging his backpack to his chest when daniel hands it to him. the only other time daniel’s seen max this quiet was after silverstone, stony-faced and wrung out when they’d finally arrived back to the hotel and max had been cleared to go to sleep.

“okay, baby, i think we have everything,” he says quietly, anxiety starting to fade into guilt. he’s not going to convince max to stay out of the car, and they both know that. if max can survive the next month and a half, he’ll win the world championship and then they can fucking. breathe. daniel will make him rest if he has to.

max lets himself be guided to the car with a gentle hand on the small of his back. daniel does his seatbelt for him like he’s a child. he doesn’t even know why. “are we fighting?” max asks, still hugging his backpack.

“no. no? i don't think so. we can talk later. let’s just. you need a shower and sleep.”

“you think gp got my trophy?”

“i’m sure he did, max.” daniel can’t help the tiniest smile. god, this fucking kid.

[rishiguro]

WALLS - S. RINTAROU

a/n: help i feel like i forgot how to write

suna immediately noticed that something wasn’t right. you were silent, not even protesting when he put on some shitty rom-com, instead only nodding absentmindedly. your eyes never seemed to look directly at him when you faced each other, instead looking through him, like you zoned out. you didn’t lay your head on his shoulder like you usually would, instead resting against the back of the couch. “are you okay?”

“huh? yeah,” you replied after a couple seconds. you blinked repeatedly, shaking your head quickly, as if you haven’t heard him properly. “yeah, i am”

the middle blocker narrowed his eyes slightly. he noticed your slightly hunched shoulders and your dazed glance, mind clearly occupied with something.

your hands curled and fisting the sleeves of your sweater.

“are you sure?” he asked again.

you gave him a half-hearted smile. “pretty sure?”

suna wasn’t so easily fooled by you — but sometimes you wished he was.

he kept quiet for a while, eyes cast forward, before he turned his head to you again, scanning your form.

your eyelids were heavy, dark eye bags telling him that you hadn’t slept properly the last few nights.

he hated it.

“i’m here for you”

he hated how you shut him out whenever there was something burdening you. you had always dealt with your problems alone, preferring to keep to yourself and never truly opening up to anyone — not even him.

and suna hated it so much.

“you can talk to me, you know?”

the middle blocker felt helpless whenever he saw you like this.

“i don’t know what you mean, i’m fine,” you replied curtly, turning your attention back to the tv, pretending to be interested in the random movie that was playing on the screen.

it took suna everything to shut up and not pry further.

there was no denying that he didn’t want to continue pestering you until he found out what has been bothering you, or even just until you simply admitted it.

he knew you were lying to him, he knew you weren’t fine and he knew you needed someone — and yet you kept shutting him out.

he couldn’t force you to talk to him because no matter how much he tried, you would only end up shying away from him. suna knew you had a hard time opening up about things; he could only imagine what was going on in your mind.

were you scared of it? were you afraid that he’d turn you away? did you think he wouldn’t take you seriously? that he’d joke about it? or that he would belittle you and your feelings?

no matter what your concerns were, suna promised himself that he would find a way to break down your walls.

it wasn’t until a few minutes into the credits that you had noticed the movie was over.

furrowing your eyebrows you tried to recall the plot, or at least the ending, just something to be able to have a conversation about.

yet before you could even open your mouth, you were pushed against suna’s chest, strong arms tightly wrapped around you with head resting in the crook of his neck.

and once you were shielded from the rest of the world, the brown haired man’s body safely engulfing you, your once calm and collected breathing grew haggard. quiet sobs escaped from your tight throat, restricting your airflow. your vision blurred as you shut your eyes, trying to force the tears back, only to have them slip through nonetheless.

suna was quiet as he held your sobbing form, softly rubbing circles on your back, not once speaking up as you cried.

you weren’t okay.

but being in his arms made it a little bit better.

reblogs are appreciated

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Thinking of making this a little series, will be a fluff, bit of a slow burn, bodyguard trope?

You aren’t sure how you’d got through the last few hours.  Everything’s a blur as you try to think back of the horror that had occurred, now you’re now sat in an unfamiliar chair in an unfamiliar office. Your right arm is in a sling, shoulder throbbing somewhat from a reset dislocation, broken fingers splintered together on the same arm, medical tape holding a wound closed on your temple, disinfectant swiped across the numerous scrapes, your body aching with developing bruises on your legs, poking out from under your dress, from the fall down the stairs – the fall that apparently ended up saving your life from the unearthly creature that had rampaged through your workplace and tore your co-workers apart.

After being treated by a DSO medic, you’d been escorted by a tall, armed to the gills, annoyingly silent man. He’d confiscated your phone, despite the fact the screen was smashed and wouldn’t turn on, and taken you across the city to the main HQ, ushered up a side entrance into the room you now sat, told you to wait, and left you alone for what felt like hours.

The door eventually opens and a smartly dressed, pretty woman, hair pinned up in a bun and wearing glasses enters, immediately heading to the other side of the desk and taking what you assumed was her seat. A handsome man accompanied her, shaggy brown hair, dressed in cargo pants, fingerless gloves, knife strapped to his thigh, finished off with a leather jacket, a holster poking out from underneath. He gives you a sympathetic once over as he sits down besides you, careful not to brush your knee with his own as he does. Considerate.

“Were you given adequate pain medication?” The lady asks abruptly, beginning to type on her keyboard.

You stare at her a moment – she’s all business. “Er… Yeah. Thanks.” Though you’re sure the two of them have noticed the wince as you shuffled in your seat. The medic had offered you stronger stuff but you’d declined, wanting to keep your wits about you. “Sorry, what’s happening now?”

“I’m Ingrid Hunnigan, this is Agent Kennedy.” She nods to the man opposite her.

“Name’s Leon.” The man besides you offers his hand and you notice he’s adapted for your incapacitated arm, in what will surely result in a very awkward handshake but the gesture is nice. You take it, hoping the tremor in your grip isn’t so painfully obvious. “Hi. Erm, I’m-”

“Dove.” Hunnigan cuts you off. “I am aware of your identity, but we will be referring to you as Dove.”

“It’s a codename.” Leon explains, a little less business. “For your safety.”

Hunnigan pauses in her typing, hitting backspace slowly as she replies. “Agent Kennedy will be your protection detail until we get this mess squared up.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her choice of word, a sick feeling twisting in your stomach. “Mess? It was a massacre in there-”

“I know. We know.” The agent besides you stresses. “I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

“Am I the only one who…?” You don’t know why you ask.

“I’m afraid so.” Hunnigan replies, a little softer in tone. “We’re going to send you to a safe house. Agent Kennedy will stay with you.”

“O-okay.” You nod, not taking it all in. “You… You think they’d send whatever that thing was after me?”

“That’s what we need time to establish.” Hunnigan replies. “From the CCTV, after the attack, there was a breach on the database. We need to establish how much data they managed to extract, if any. Agent Kennedy will keep you updated as much as he can when he receives any intel.” She turns more to him then, cutting you out of the conversation. “I’ll send the co-ordinates of the safe house when you’re out of the city. They’re loading up an SUV with supplies for at least a week. If it goes on longer, we’ll arrange a supply drop via another location.”

“That long?” You feel like you’re interrupting.

“Worse case scenario, Dove.” Leon offers you a smile. “I’m sure we’ll have you back home in no time. Did they send you away with any meds?”

“The medic sent in a report – with a treatment plan. It’s in the information pack, prescribed medicine is in with the supplies. Again, enough for a week.” Hunnigan replies. “I’ve arranged clothes too – medic guessed your size for me. We’ll be keeping your phone for now.”

“Why?”

“We can’t allow you to contact anyone – for your safety and theirs.”

Your heart skips a beat at that comment. “Wait… You think I might be behind this, don’t you?”

Hunnigan purses her lips. “It is an avenue we need to explore. There are questions as to why you alone survived. We will be dispatching a team to your residence once the two of you are out of the city to help in our investigation.”

“Again, that’s just protocol.” Leon tries to reassure, but your mind is whirling. “No-one is accusing you of anything, Dove.”

“I… I’ve worked here for years, I passed all the clearance checks. I wouldn’t, I didn’t…”

“As Agent Kennedy said, it’s just protocol. If you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to fear.” Hunnigan resumes tapping away at the keyboard as she talks, pausing as the computer emits a ping. “SUV’s ready. I suggest you two go.”

Leon gets to his feet, once more offering his hand to help you to yours. He smiles, sympathetically, as he takes in your appearance – your face has lost what little colour it had.

“Time to go, Dove. It’ll be all right.”

You want to say no, you feel like you need to stay to plead your innocence, but you catch sight of the gun holstered by his side and the flame of defiance is extinguished. You take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He places his hand on the small of your back to guide you back through the door and you can’t work out if it should feel like comfort or a threat.

--

You felt numb as Leon had escorted you to a large SUV with blacked out windows in an empty carpark. He’d opened the door for you, helped you climb in before hesitating.

“Need a hand with your seatbelt?”

You stare at him for a moment too long.

“Because of your arm, I mean.”

“Oh. Please.”

He leans over you, grabbing the seatbelt and clicking it into place.

“Right. Comfy?”

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Thanks.”

He nods, closes the door behind him – softly, you note, rather than a slam and it’s then you realise that you also can’t see out the windows. He hops up into the front, buckles his own seatbelt and starts the engine, swinging the SUV out of the parking space with ease. You can’t really see anything from where you’re sat, bar the back of his head and it must be deliberate.

“Hopefully it’s not too long of a drive.” He comments. “Had one that was a twelve hours’ away once and we are not allowed to stop for bathroom breaks.”

“Are you allowed to tell me how far away it is when you know?”

“Don’t see why not. Hunnigan will ping it through once we’re clear enough.”

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed when, eventually, the promised ping echoes around the car. You can hear him tap his fingers against something and he hums to himself.

“We’re in luck – about two hours away, Dove. Want some music on? Don’t have any CDs but got the radio.”

Maybe the music will help drown out how loud your heart is thudding in your ears. ”Yeah, sure.”

He fiddles with the dial – sound crackling around the car before it settles on some acoustic tune you don’t recognize. Must be some easy listening station.

“You can nap, if you like.”

“Maybe.” Though you’re not sure how you’ll ever sleep again after today.

The rest of the drive passes in silence, apart from the sound of the radio. You close your eyes a few times, leaning your head back against the seat but the creature seems burned into your retinas, haunting your vision.

“This is us.” Leon breaks the silence as you feel the car turn and he reduces the speed. He switches off the car and unclicks his seatbelt, turning back to face you. “Wait there just a moment, okay?”

“Yeah.”

 He smiles, opens his door and hops out, again closing the door softly behind him. What must be a few minutes later, your door opens and he once again offers his hand.

“Ready?

You unclip your seatbelt with your good hand before accepting his outstretched one, helping you step down from the SUV. You’re in a garage now of some sort – spacious enough to fit the car and what looks to be a chest freezer, washer and tumble dryer - the whole room illuminated by an orange bulb.

“So, we said safe house – seems more like a safe bungalow to me. I’ll give you the tour.” He gestures forward towards an open door and you walk forward, once again his hand falling to the small of your back. It leads through to a modest sized kitchen – usual white appliances and opens out into a living room with two couches, a coffee table and an entertainment unit with a television. There are two more doors along the wall, but what really strikes you is how small the windows all are, covered in thick panes of glass.

Bulletproof, you wonder.

“Bathroom’s this one,” he opens the door in demonstration, revealing a typical bathroom, before moving along. “And the bedroom.” It has a double bed, white linen sheets, a wardrobe and dresser. “Your bedroom,” he corrects. “I’ll be on the couch.”

“Oh. Is that comfortable?”

He smiles at your concern. “I’m pretty good at sleeping anywhere, but it looks comfortable enough. Speaking of, it’s pretty late so I think we should call it a night.” He ducks into the bathroom, pulling out a washbag from under the sink and empties the contents on the counter. “Standard toiletries kit to start us off. I’m gonna start bringing in the supplies. Sound good?”

You nod and he heads back towards the garage. You kick off your shoes before you step into the bathroom and close the door, twisting the lock closed. You use the facilities with some difficulty, your first visit since being an arm down, though thankful to be in a dress so as not to battle with trousers. After what some might call a best attempt of washing your hand, you pick up the toothbrush and immediately put it back down in annoyance as you realise you’ll need to deal with the toothpaste first. Thankful for the flip cap, the tube slips from your grip as you squeeze, shooting across the counter and knocking a glass off the counter, sending it smashing to the floor.

“Fu-” The word doesn’t even make it out of your mouth when the door is broken open, slammed against the wall and Leon is stood there, gun raised as you scream.

He scans the room with his eyes, concedes it’s clear and lowers his gun. “What happened? You okay?”

“I… I d-dropped the t-t-toothpaste and smashed the g-glass and…” Your breath catches in your throat again, tears burning in your eyes.

“Hey,” he holsters the gun on his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. Sorry for scaring you. I thought there was a window in here.”

He looks down at the broken glass that’s exploded over the floor and your sock-clad feet. “Sit down, all right? I’ll clear this up.”

“No, I s-should-”

“I can do it. Just sit, please. I’ll go grab a dustpan – they have one. Not my first safe house.” He soothes, heading off into the kitchen cupboards in search of it.

You sit down on the closed toilet seat lid and wonder bitterly if he’s at more safe houses than his own home. You take the moment to try and settle your breathing, your heart still pounding.

Leon appears at the door once more, grinning as he holds the dustpan and brush aloft in triumph. “Found it.” He crouches down, beginning to sweep up the glass. You watch in silence as he tackles the floor methodically, making sure to brush along each square of bathroom tile until he seems satisfied with his work.

“There. All done.” He places it to the side and grabs the troublesome toothpaste tube, before standing up to his full height. “So, this was the culprit, huh?”

You nod. “I don’t know what happened - the only difference was the toothbrush being on the counter, so I should be able to do it, just-”

He picks up the toothbrush and squeezes a blob of toothpaste on it. “On the house.” Leon jokes, offering it back to you. You stand up and accept it, hesitantly.

“I kinda feel pathetic.” You admit.

“Dove…” You’re getting a little used to the name now. It sounds nice off his tongue – soft and sweet. “You’ve had a shitty day, give yourself a break.”

“No, I mean, it just feels like you’re my servant or something – sweeping up, squeezing out my toothpaste...”

“To protect and serve’s the motto.” He smiles at your confused look. “I was a cop before I was an agent.”

“And this is the stuff you did as a cop?”

“Yes, alongside the helping old ladies with their groceries, helping ducks cross the street…” He teases, before nodding at the toothbrush in your hand. “I’ll leave you to it.”

After brushing your teeth without further incident and taking a few more moments to compose yourself, you exit the bathroom. Leon’s stood at the kitchen counter, paper bag in hand, looking at pill packets. There’s a couple of duffel bags near the garage door, one unzipped.

“Medical notes say it’s painkiller time, I’m afraid.” He grabs a glass from the cupboard, fills it up with water from the tap and places it down besides two white pills. “They’ve given you some sleeping tablets as well, but that’s up to you.”

“Do they stop you dreaming?”

Leon grimaces at your question. “From personal experience, yeah. No dreams.”

You hold out your hand. “Then I’ll take them.”

He nods, shaking another two pills out of a bottle and into his hand, picking up the other two and drops them in your hand. You open your mouth and throw them in, before accepting the glass of water, swallowing it all down.

“So, er, this is gonna be a little bit awkward, but I don’t know what you prefer to sleep in, obviously, but I’m assuming not that.”

“Oh. Yeah, no.”

“So, I pulled out a couple of things.” He nods towards the bedroom, where you can see some items of clothing laying out on the bed. He’s turned the bedside lamp on, the room softly illuminated in a white glow.

“You really are a safe house pro.”

“Ha, yeah.” He grins, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess my question is, do you need a hand with changing? 100% respectful offer, obviously.”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay. After you.”

You walk into the bedroom, Leon keeping his distance this time. There’s an oversized t-shirt in the pile, looks like it will reach your knees. You pick it up with your good hand, clutching it close to your chest and turn to face him.

“Can you help with the sling?”

“Yep.” He nods – professional, unstrapping it with ease and removing it gently. “Afraid medic says you need to sleep with the sling for a week.”

“Mm.” You nod, hanging your arm down loose before turning around. “I guess if you could unzip and I’ll…”

“Got it.” He tugs down the zipper of your dress slowly – if it was some other encounter you’d say he was being a tease. He stops as he reaches the small of your back, just above your underwear. “What can I do now?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, but there’s no getting around it now. “Any good at undoing a bra? Professionally.”

“Professionally, yep.” You feel gentle fingers deftly unclasp it with ease.

“I think I’ve got it from now until the sling needs back on, so-”

“Say no more. Just call when you’re ready.”

The door closes behind you and you exhale, trying to compose yourself. It’s more months since a man had helped you out of a dress and this, after everything today and the situation you’re in, unsure if he sees you as victim or villain, shouldn’t be making you feel flustered.

Gingerly, you slip one arm out of the dress, followed by the other, wincing as you do so and allowing it to pool down at your feet. Next comes your bra, and then you gently pull the t-shirt over your head, again flinching as your shoulder smarts.

Decent, or decent enough, you call out. “Leon? I’m ready.”

“Coming in.” He announces, pausing a moment before opening the door and immediately moves to pick up the sling from where he placed it on the bed. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

With practiced hands, he positions your arm into the sling, adjusting it carefully and fastening it in place once more. “There. Feel okay?”

“Yeah.” You look him in the eyes then – beautiful, blue eyes, before fighting back a yawn. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “That will be the sleeping pills kicking in. I forgot to mention they’re real heavy duty.”

“Mm.” You sit down on the bed then, a little too heavily, before picking up your discarded dress on the floor. “Could you bin this?”

“Of course.” He takes it from you, no question. “Anything else I can do?”

“No. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to keep thanking me, Dove. It’s all right – I told you, part of the job.”

“Still, thank you.” You mumble, head feeling heavy.

“Here,” he pulls back the covers as you scooch yourself back and lean your head back on the pillow, tucking the duvet in over you. “Arm still okay?”

You nod, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

“I swear what happened wasn’t anything to do with me. I swear.”

“Shh,” Leon hushes. “I know.” He feels it in his gut, felt it since the moment he lay eyes on you in Hunnigan’s office. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll hear some updates. But, for now, just sleep. Okay, Dove?”

“Sleep, okay…” You mumble, closing your eyes.

Leon hovers a moment, noting the change in your breathing as the sleeping pills pull you under. He turns off the bedside lamp and leaves the bedroom, quietly, your dress clutched in his hand. He places it in the kitchen bin – there’s an incinerator round the back to erase all trace of their visit, but he’ll do that in the morning.

He makes his way over to the sofa and lies down, not even bothering to remove his boots.

He won’t be sleeping tonight.

-- Do let me know if you'd be interested in a part two! x EDIT: Part two!

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