#and then he'll laugh and you can just hear the joy in his voice

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

i love listening to russ talk about his songs when somebody asks him to talk about one, he just starts throwing like half the lyrics at them so fast

he's like me when somebody asks about my favorite bands

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: semi-angst

notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to

PART TWO | PART THREE

Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.

“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.

Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.

“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.

At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?

Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.

Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.

“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.

“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.

“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.

Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.

Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.

Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.

[rueclfer]

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him. 

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.” 

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

-

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork. 

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

-

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

-

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls. 

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes. 

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood. 

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose. 

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words. 

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

-

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku. 

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?” 

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time. 

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

-

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment. 

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all. 

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

-

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

-

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. 

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together. 

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.” 

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?” 

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

-

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

[delulujuls]

i'd give you the whole world if i only knew its price | ls18

am i a lance's girlie? no. am i becoming a lance's girlie? dont look at me

he seems so sweet idk why people hate on him

summary: lance's love language is giving gifts and when it came to giving something in return he'll accept only one way

warnings: none

pairing: fem!bffreader x lance stroll

The little girl sat on the curb, tears streaming down her rosy, tear-stained cheeks. In her tiny hands, she held her shattered helmet, unfit for further use. The girl wasn't crying because her father had scolded her for accidentally damaging the helmet. Instead, it was because, until she could find a replacement, she wouldn't be able to race with the other kids. That is, if there were any funds available for a new one.

Seeing the seven-year-old in tears, a slightly older boy, aware of the reason behind her distress, approached her with his newly purchased helmet in hand, crouching down in front of her.

"Here, you can have mine."

The girl stopped sobbing as he sat beside her, handing her the helmet, which she hesitantly accepted.

"I can't take it, my dad doesn't have any money left."

"You can take it, I always have two helmets with me."

The boy smiled at her, but uncertainty still lingered on her face. He glanced toward his father, who stood under one of the tents, observing the children a few meters away. Seeing the tearful face of the girl and the joyful expression on his son's face, he also smiled slightly and nodded.

"See?" he said, squeezing her hands that held the helmet. "My dad agreed. You can take it as a gift."

"Really?"

While her face was still wet from tears, her eyes no longer radiated sadness. Looking into the brown eyes of the boy, he nodded and he stood up, extending his hand.

"By the way, I'm Lance. Now, come on, it's about to start!"

"Please, Y/N, don't be like that."

The boy slumped onto the hotel bed, closely watching the girl's face on his phone screen.

"I'm sorry, Lance, but I can't."

She replied, her phone propped up against a coffee mug, engrossed in browsing job listings on her laptop.

"Why can't you just take it as a gift?"

Y/N scoffed and shook her head.

"Every month you give me some gift, Lance. Last month, as a 'gift,' you bought me a Birkin bag, and I don't even want to know how much it cost."

"You said your bag was falling apart, I wanted to make you happy."

She sighed and shifted her gaze to her phone. Lance looked at her attentively with his puppy eyes, visibly concerned. He wasn't seeing any problem here.

"The bag is gorgeous, and you have no idea how much joy you brought me," she said with grattitude in her voice. "But even a simple Target bag would make me happy, you know?"

"Yeah, probably. But this one is okay too, right?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"It's beautiful. Thank you very much."

Hearing her words, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing her smile, he did the same.

"So, if you want to repay me, let me fly you to Bahrain."

She lowered her gaze, and the smile faded from her face. Barely scraping by on bills and struggling to find a new job, spending her remaining money on plane tickets was the last thing on her mind. Even if, it could cover just one ticket.

"I can't afford to visit you, Lance."

"That's why let me take care of it. We haven't seen each other for so long, and I want to finally see you and start this season together," he said, looking at her worried face. Money meant nothing to him; he could send a private jet to pick her up, just to have her with him. "Please, Y/N."

She sighed and shook her head.

"I feel so embarrassed. I'll never be able to repay you for all of this."

"So, is it a yes? Can I book the tickets?"

He asked, hope in his voice, and a smile slowly crept back onto his face.

"Fine, but no more gifts this month, okay?"

"I'll try to meet that condition."

Lance and Y/N had been friends since the day he noticed her crying next to the carting track, holding her damaged helmet. They remained friends through all the years of go-karting, and their friendship persisted even when Y/N had to give up racing due to financial reasons.

At first, though she shudders at the thought even now, she hated Lance with every fiber of her being. It wasn't him she despised, but the obscene amounts of money his father had, providing him with everything he could dream of. Y/N was aware that Lance had both many fans and critics, so every time she came across unfavorable comments about him online, she felt embarrassed. After all, she used to cry and curse him every night, even though deep down, she didn't hate him; she just disliked the situation he was in, which she was not allowed to have.

Lance himself knew that without money, he would never have entered the serious world of motorsport. Numerous training sessions, expensive lessons, academy tests – Lance knew that money secured his current position, but talent couldn't be bought. He knew he could drive, and even the people who hated him online knew it too, disliking him simply because he succeeded. Being in Formula 1 cost the Canadian a lot, as he constantly felt like he didn't belong there. Even in the paddock, despite rarely facing personal comments, he knew many saw him as the boy with his daddy's big money. Lance often felt lonely, so he deeply appreciated every moment he could spend with Y/N. No one was as important to him as she was.

However, Y/N focused on being an ordinary teenager after giving up her motorsport career. She finished high school, got into college, even found a job and rented an apartment. Although her life didn't unfold exactly as she wanted, she stayed connected to motorsport through Lance, whom she supported as much as she could. Now things were getting complicated again as the season was about to begin, meaning she could only cheer for him from her couch. But for Lance, there were no such limitations. If he could solve a problem with money, he would. Furthermore, Lance found immense joy in showering Y/N with various gifts. Giving her presents was his love language, something that Y/N had no clue about.

"There she is."

Lance smiled at the sight of his friend, who stepped out of the taxi in front of one of the Bahrain hotels. She returned the smile, hugging him.

"I was talking about the bag, but it's nice to see you too," he teased, pointing to the Birkin she was holding, prompting her to playfully nudge him. Lance chuckled and embraced her, taking her suitcase and leading her inside the hotel.

"I hope the flight was okay and you're full of energy because we're going to a team dinner tonight."

"So, basically your dad is inviting us to dinner?"

She asked jokingly, looking at him as they entered the elevator.

"Technically, yes, my dad is inviting us to dinner."

Y/N laughed, "Well, Lawrence Stroll can't be refused."

Shortly afterward, they were on the right floor where both of them had their rooms. Lance handed her the key card and when she entered her room, she noticed a bouquet of roses and a small package on the bed.

"Lance..."

Turning around, she saw him biting his lip, trying to hide his smile.

"Yes, yes, I know, we had a deal. But these roses were practically free and the little gift next to it is, let's say, a shared one."

He explained, putting aside her suitcase. She also placed her bag down and approached the bed, picking up the bouquet of white roses. She smelled one and smiled, feeling their pleasant fragrance. Lance smiled too.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Open the gift."

He encouraged her, leaning against the wall.

She smelled the flowers once more and put them aside, taking the small package wrapped in black ribbon. As she untied it and unwrapped the light-colored paper, she discovered the familiar shade of green. It was a long, satin dress with thin straps, in the characteristic color of Aston Martin. She smiled to herself.

"I guess this is for tonight's dinner?"

Lance nodded, "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," she ran her fingers over the fabric, "I hope you have a shirt in the same color."

He chuckled.

"Don't worry, I won't disappoint you."

Indeed, at the agreed-upon time, Lance showed up at her door, wearing a shirt in the same color, black jeans, and matching shoes. He smiled at the sight of his friend, who opened the door ready to go.

"You look gorgeous. The color suits you."

Y/N laughed and closed the door behind her.

"That's good because otherwise, I would have to wear the white dress I brought with me, and someone might think I'm supporting Haas."

Lance laughed at her words, pleased to spend these few days with his friend. Honestly, he only stopped feeling lonely when she was around or when they had the chance to talk on FaceTime. Of course, it wasn't the same as having her physically by his side.

The evening passed in a pleasant atmosphere and time flowed effortlessly. Lawrence invited everyone who had arrived with Aston Martin to Bahrain, so instead of reserving a specific number of tables, Lance's father rented the entire restaurant for the evening.

Celebrating the team's excellent work during the winter months, the tables were adorned with champagne and white wine. Y/N had forgotten how weak her head could be, so after two glasses of wine during dinner, a slight buzz started to occupy her mind. Apologizing to Lance under the pretext of going to the bathroom, she stepped outside, sitting on the balcony. Despite being February, Bahrain offered pleasant temperatures, and even after the dark, a warm breeze caressed her exposed arms.

"Here you are."

The girl jumped, hearing his voice.

"You weren't around for half an hour, and I had the waitress check if something happened to you in the bathroom."

"I needed some fresh air."

Y/N replied, smiling at him. She noticed Lance's steps were a bit unsteady and a blush adorned his cheeks. When he sat next to her, she giggled.

"I can't believe we got tipsy."

Lance chuckled and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I won't lie, I'm feeling a bit dizzy."

Still giggling, the girl rested her head on his shoulder. Lance wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his cheek on her head.

"I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad you invited me."

"I'd give you the whole world if I only knew its price."

Hearing his words, Y/N raised her head and looked at his face. His brown, gentle eyes gazed at her affectionately and a faint smile played on the corners of his lips. Lance tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"I hate that I can't give you anything in return."

Lance smiled, "Actually, there's something you could give me in return."

The girl raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"You could be my girlfriend."

Y/N blinked several times, unsure if her slightly intoxicated mind was playing tricks on her or if she understood Lance correctly.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

"Oh, God, you have no idea how much."

The girl smiled and, without saying a word, cupped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. Lance hugged her even tighter, returning the kiss, feeling a burst of fireworks in his stomach. He could bring her joy with money, and she could do it in just one way.

"I love you, Lance."

With love.

[funficwriter]

Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!

A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!

Warnings; None, really.

Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)

Lyney

First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!

If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.

(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)

Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.

He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.

If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.

"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."

Lynette

It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.

She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.

She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.

Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.

"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".

She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".

Neuvillette

You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.

For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.

First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.

He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.

(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)

If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.

While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...

"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".

Navia

She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!

If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.

Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.

Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.

She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.

With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.

"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".

Furina

"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"

Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.

She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!

One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.

She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.

"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"

If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3

Wriothesley

"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".

Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.

Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".

So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.

"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".

I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜

[strangersteddierthings]

Daily Ficlet

I'm challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today's prompt is coffee smell.

-

Eddie wakes to the smell of coffee.

That's not unusual for him. Wayne drinks coffee like water, has it both to wake up and go to bed. It's just that, usually, the coffee smell is fainter, having to make its way from the kitchen and through the door to his bedroom.

Did he leave the door open last night? That'd have been a bad idea, given what Steve and he got up to-

Oh. Oh shit! Steve and he-

Eddie cracks his eyes open finally. He's where he usually is when he wakes up; on the side of the bed closest to the door, on his stomach, arm hanging off the bed and face turned towards the door. The door, which is open, and Eddie knows he closed it because he remembers Steve pinning him against it as soon as Eddie had turned back around. Steve crowding into his space, one hand braced on the door beside Eddie's head, the other curling possessively on Eddie's hip. Steve dipping his head to nibble at his shoulder, before kissing and nibbling his way up Eddie's neck, jaw line, capturing Eddie's bottom lip between his teeth before kissing him properly, like Eddie has been wanting him to do since- well, forever probably.

He does a quick scan of the room, but Steve's shirt isn't on the floor by the door where Eddie had ripped it off him. And that. It's fine. Eddie's used to not getting the guy at the end of the story. There were no expectations, they didn't- well, there were promises whispered, but that's just. It's just the kind of words that slip out when wrapped up in the heat of the moment, yeah?

("God, you're so beautiful, Stevie. Beautiful and perfect for me." "Yes, yes, perfect for you. Wanna be. Wanna be perfect for you. Just you. Yours." "Mine. Just mine. You're mine, and I'm yours." "Yes yes yes yes!")

Just words said in the dark of night. Even if Eddie wants them to be real now. Wants to be Steve's and wants Steve to be his. If he just lays here, he can pretend a bit more. He can pretend that Steve's still asleep on the other side of the bed. That the door is open for any other reason than Steve slipping out while Eddie slept.

His other arm, the one trapped beneath him, is starting to get pins and needles, though, so he has to move. He heaves a sigh and digs his elbow into the mattress, using it as leverage to roll onto his back and away from the edge of the bed and-

"You awake babe?"

Eddie doesn't yelp. He'll deny it happening to the end of his days, but he wasn't expecting to hear a voice. Wasn't expecting- "Stevie."

"That's me," Steve says with a laugh. Steve, who has, apparently this whole time, been sitting up on the other side of the bed, Eddie's well-loved copy of The Hobbit in his hands, his shirt tragically back on. He tosses it softly towards the foot of the bed before shifting to drape himself across Eddie, propping himself up with an elbow near Eddie's head. Steve's other hand comes up to brush the hair from Eddie's face before trailing down his neck, across his shoulder, and down his whole arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before Steve tangles their fingers together and gives Eddie's hand a light squeeze that he reciprocates on instinct. It's the right thing to do, Eddie decides, because the smile the spreads across Steve's face is soft and so fond before disappearing from view because Steve lowers himself down to press sweet and gentle kisses to Eddie's lips, once, twice, thrice, before peppering kisses to every inch of Eddie's face he can. Eddie is expecting morning breath, but Steve smells of coffee.

A smile spreads across Eddie's own lips, and laughter follows, because this is so sweet, so fond, makes him feel so safe and loved that the joy Eddie feels has to break free from his body somehow. He chases Steve's mouth down again to kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth to chase the coffee taste. The kisses turn lazy and eventually Steve pulls back, a dopey smile on his face that Eddie is sure is also on his own face. "Good morning."

"Good morning indeed," Eddie says, his thumb rubbing softly against Steve's where they're still holding hands. "Why're you wearing your shirt?"

Steve gives a one shoulder shrug. "Didn't think Wayne would appreciate the view as much as you do."

Eddie blinks up at him. "Wayne's up?"

"He made the coffee that lured me from your bed," Steve says, and his tone is teasing but there's something in his eyes, in the way Eddie feels him tense just the slightest that makes Eddie think 'Oh!' again.

Eddie had been so sure early, that Steve would rather slink away before Eddie woke, but he thinks Steve has the fear of being kicked out now that he's awake. Of having overstayed his welcome, or pushed at a boundary he didn't know Eddie set. Can't have him thinking that. "Well, you're probably right, he wouldn't enjoy the view as much as I. You let me know if that ever changes. I'll not have an old man trying to steal my boyfriend."

That's the right thing to say, Eddie knows immediately. Steve settles completely against him in a way Eddie hadn't known was possible. It's not that Steve gets heavier as he lays across him more, but Eddie feels him press more into him somehow. Clutches tighter at their joined hands and leans back down to rubs his nose against Eddie's cheek. "Worry not, babe. There's only one Munson I want to call boyfriend."

And that. Well. How is Eddie supposed to not kiss Steve -his boyfriend- silly after that?

[seobinghard]

how to fix a broken heart in one day;

pairing: best friend!mingi x fem!reader ✫ wc: 1.5k ✫ genres: fluff, romcom, feel-good, non-idol!au, best friend!au ✫ warnings: none ✫ note: mingi's rich (duh). p1h's keeho mentioned ✫ synopsis: your failed situationship has left your heart shattered into pieces but lucky for you, mingi's good at fixing things.

when you told mingi you ended things with keeho last week, he hears angels sing; a celestial choir celebrating the demise of your situationship. is it evil of him, he thinks, to not feel sympathy for your situation? is it morally wrong that he even feels relief at the news of your failed romantic ventures? for it only means one thing; you're single again. and your broken heart? he'll be the one to fix it.

“mingi, you’re not listening to me. i just told you we broke up,” you bite back a sob, grabbing another tissue from the half-empty box on the coffee table.

‘how to lose a guy in ten days’ plays faintly on the your living room tv, volume on low. 

“oh, come here, you big crybaby” mingi coos, opening his arms for you. you're finally mine.

sniffling, you crawl into your best friend’s arms and sink into his embrace, basking in the warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his laundry softener mixed with his cologne; fresh rain and green tea; clean and woody. mingi wraps his arms around you like you’re his most prized possession, his hold gentle and firm. there’s a heartbeat against you, a steady rhythm only you can hear through the wool of his grey sweater. for a while, the morning feels less cold and the world far away.

mingi sighs, placing his chin on your head. “you know, for a situationship that only lasted two weeks, do you think you're over-reacting?”

you pull away. “are you calling me dramatic?” 

“i thought you said he's a walking red flag?"

“but you see, that's the thing about me. i'm kinda blind, mings,” you sniffle, burying your face in mingi’s chest, “and he just has go and break my heart like that.”

mingi feels his chest tighten at your muffled sobs. does he think you’re overreacting? maybe. but above all else, he hates to see you like this; blue and hopeless. you’re his sparkle bubble and some keeho guy came and popped it. what’s so special about this mf anyway, mingi thinks. sure, he’s very good-looking and successful, but can keeho make you laugh like he can? can keeho list the big three signs in your birth chart? does keeho know your gp's name off the top of his head? as if.

no one knows you better than him. and if no one loves you, mingi's dead. 

“hey," mingi mutters, “you wanna go shopping?”

your eyes light up like the lights on christmas day. “now?”

“get dressed, we’ll leave in thirty."

if you were crying over a man an hour ago, that wasn't you.

mingi watches you with a smile as you bounce through sephora with stars in your eyes. he trails closely by your side, a mini basket in his right hand, his left—a canvas for your shade swipes. dior, rare beauty, two-faced; he's got it all on his skin.

"oh my god, they restocked my favourite shade, mingi!" you bounce in joy, holding up the mac lip liner.

"anything you want," mingi smirks coolly.

"for real?"

"did i stutter?"

say less.

cha-ching! two-hundred and ten dollars at sephora. a hundred and ten dollars at aesop. thirteen dollars at crumbl cookie. seventeen-hundred fifty at acne studios. seventy-nine dollars, eighteen cents at barney's. twenty dollars at heytea. fifteen-hundred and ninety dollars at miu miu.

you thought you might've murdered mingi's credit card at this point but he only gives your hair a cute lil ruffle and says, "let's go have a look at the bracelets in tiffany."

you may be clueless but one thing you know for sure is; you don't just buy tiffany for anyone.

"y/n, come here," mingi calls.

there's a foreign tenderness in his voice when he says your name and it makes your heart flutter in anticipation. you've never felt like this about your best friend before.

as you make your way to mingi, you can't help but notice his height, towering over everyone else in the store, broad shoulders visible beneath the fitted black shirt he's wearing. his jet black hair is effortlessly swept back, rimless glasses—the ones he wears while gaming—perched his nose. he balances all your shopping bags in one hand, the other beckoning you to come over. you spot the chrome hearts ring you gifted him for his twenty-third birthday on his middle finger, and your heart skips a beat. rose-pink dusts your cheeks like the first cherry blossom of spring. has mingi always looked this good?

you're starting to wonder, maybe your heart isn't broken to begin with. maybe it's been crying out for attention from the wrong person, when, all along it should've been calling out to...mingi.

oh my god.

the world blurs, and you feel dizzy. mingi's speaking to you but his words only drift around you like smoke, your mind a storm of thoughts. it's only when his hand brushes against your waist that you're hauled back to reality.

"y/n, you alright?" mingi asks, concerned.

his hand is still on your waist. you're about to combust.

"miss, would you like to try it on?"

the sales assistant brings out a bracelet on a turquoise tray. it's a return to tiffany heart bracelet; the one you've always wanted since you were little.

you gasp in awe, "it's so pretty."

you're prettier, mingi thinks. especially when you're your truest self.

"you like it?" he asks.

you nod, smiling, "i do."

your smile. fuck. he wouldn't trade anything in the world for the ability to make you smile like that. money isn't an issue. and if it ever becomes an issue, he's got two kidneys for a reason.

when night falls and it's just the two of you in his car, you finally muster up the courage to ask, "mingi, what are we doing?"

your best friend chuckles, "what do you mean?"

"i know we're best friends but why are you doing all this for me?"

mingi almost chokes on his spit but manages to play it cool, "'cause you're my homeboy, duh. what kinda stupid question is that?"

"mingi, you don't just buy someone a tiffany bracelet," you comment calmly.

you notice the faintest tension in his jaw. mingi is quiet, his focus fixed on the road ahead, the familiar route back to your apartment just five minutes away. silence hangs in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts. you're glad you live downtown because if you had stayed in an enclosed space any longer with mingi, you don't know what you would've done.

mingi stops outside your apartment building and shifts the car into park.

you take this as a sign to leave, unbuckling your seatbelt. "i'll see you—"

"y/n, wait."

mingi swiftly takes off his glasses and pulls you in for a kiss. you blink, swept away by the sudden contact of his lips against yours—soft and sweet like a midsummer's dream. you can hear your heart pounding in your ears as he slowly pulls away, his chest heaving, breath mingling with yours. warmth floods through you in a million butterflies, pooling in your stomach as you regain your breath. the surprise in your eyes mirrors his as you both process what just happened.

"i didn't want it to be like this," mingi finally breaks the silence. his voice is husky, face flushed, eyes wide and glossy like brown boba pearls. "fuck."

your heart is about to leap out of your chest.

mingi takes your hand in his. "y/n, i know it's selfish of me to tell you this now and you can say 'no' anytime if you feel uncomfortable—"

"mingi, please," you whimper. you think you know what he's going to say and it's driving you insane.

"i love you," mingi confesses, his words weighted with confidence and truth. his gaze holds yours as if searching for a four-syllable answer to his sacred declaration.

"like in a homeboy way?"

mingi's face shatters. "are you really asking me this right now? really, y/n?"

"i'm joking!" you burst into fits of giggles before placing a kiss on his cheek. "i think i really, really like you too, mingi bunny!"

though you can't see it, mingi is over the moon at your answer—he'll take 'i really, really like you' any day and pray for the best that one day, 'like' becomes 'love'. but until then, he's fully content to just be in your presence. he's waited this long, what's a few more weeks, month, or years, going to do to him?

"sooooo, can we make out?"

"mingi, get the bags."

"yes, my love."

[nescaveckwriter]

Heyy! Can I request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship where they have to deal with a case for which they have to dress up all nice, and reader usually wear baggy clothes or clothing that hides most of her body and for the first time, he sees reader in a tight fitting dress and he's just

😍 "shit, that's my woman?!"

And he's just over the moon even more for reader (if that's even possible)

😱💓🥰... Awww sweetheart this is such a cute idea, I just simply love it, also thanks for asking, I really do hope you like, this little drabble, I've written is what you had in mind💓 anywayz I hope you have an epic day, love ... 🐞💓🥰

A/N: I love receiving requests, so keep em coming 😅

Warnings: 18+Only, Some mention of violence, and intimacy, but nothing to much, light foul language. And Pure FLUFF 🥳😘💕

Pictures used: Pinterest

Copyright: Please do not copy, my work.

Words: 1189 😘

Lady in Red 💕

His husky voice lingers in the air, oh how I loved the sound of his voice, we have been together for a few years now, and somehow hearing him, looking at him, never got old. His green eyes caught mine, helding it captive, because I mean who wouldn't drown in those emerald green orbs, mouthing with his plum lips across the table, "I love you" as Sam discussed the plan with us. Mouthing back "I love you too Dean". Looking at each other as if we were the only people in the room.

"Really you two?" Sam looked at the two of them, "we need to focus, the two of you need to pose as a high end, couple, for this charity event, so I need both of you too listen" Dean and I looked a little guilty, but then Dean smirked "bite me" I chuckled a little, the way Sam's face has irritation written all over..

Sam looked at me, eyeing the oversized clothing I always wear, oh he didn't want to say it out loud but, I knew what he was thinking, how am I going to look the part?. I barely even wear makeup or do my hair, but like who would not want to be comfortable when you're fighting monsters and ghosts. I smile, "Don't worry boys, I'll dress the part" Dean gave me this surprised almost scolding look sounding sincere, "You are beautiful sweetheart, I don't care what you wear, your beautiful" he walked up to me, and without hesitation he pulled me into an endearing kiss, his hands resting on my hips, I heard Sam, mumbling "Oh! Give me a break" and walk out, leaving the two of us, I could feel the way Dean smiled, against my lips. After a few more seconds, we came up for air, sounding breathy ,"Babe you should stop terrorising your brother so much" he simply smirked "Not my fault Sammy is so easily annoyed" I laugh, starting to turn away from him, "I need to go and get ready for tonight's event, you too mister" he grabbed my wrist, "Come here sweetheart" he pulled me close to him, looking into my eyes, "you know I love you right, more than anything in this world?" I smiled, looking at this gorgeous man in front of me, his freckles, my damn weakness, "Mhmm you see I know that's not true" surprised he looks at me "what?" Chuckling a bit "what about baby?" Referencing the love for his Chevrolet Impala, standing in the garage, he burst into laughter "You are driving me crazy woman, now go get ready" giving me a playful slap on the rear. I walk away, smiling, my heart bursting with love and joy.

He smiles as he watches her walk away, wearing loose fitting jeans one of his t-shirts and some flannel, hair in a messy bun, it's true he didn't care what she wore, she's so beautiful for him, but he would be lying, if he said he wasn't curious what she'll look like all dressed up, for some reason that's beyond him, she always thinks she's not pretty, but oh how far that could be from the truth, he knows every single inch of her body, every little spot that makes her tickle, every Little sensitive part, that makes her moan in pleasure, he loves her, even more than his car, but he'll never admit it.

Checking himself in the mirror, mumbling "I hate these monkey suits" as he struggled with his bow tie. He walks around the bunker searching for Sam, of course he finds his little brother's nose buried in those damn books, "Sammy help a man out?" Sam looks up, "you can hunt some of the most dangerous creatures, but you can't fix a tie?" The glare Dean gives him shows he isn't happy at the remark, he gets up, helping his big brother fix the tie.

Sam's eyes widens, his mouth falls open, Dean looks at him "What's your problem?" Sam could barely utter a single word he was stunned to say the least, Dean followed his eyes and when Dean turned around, his breathing hitched, his heart rate went up, he slightly gasped for air, taking in the beauty before him, his eyes wandered over her. Her hair draped over her shoulders, her eyes glistening, her smile could light up the darkest of rooms, wearing a red tight fitting dress. The high cut slit in her dress, exposing her right leg, the crystal like heels, making her seem taller, her legs leaner, the low halter cut, just exposing enough of her collar bone, to leave something for the imagination.

Without saying a word, Dean gestured for her to turn, the back of the dress, totally exposed, just covered her lower back. He bit his lower lip, and with the back of his hand, hitting against Sam's chest, his voice sounding a bit more husky, "shit, that's my woman?!" She laughed and her voice rang, "Last time I checked, I was all yours"

All the way to the event Dean could barely keep his eyes on the road.

When he led her through the doors, his hand rested on the curve of her back, so many eyes were on her, and he slightly chuckled when she whispered "why are they all looking at me?" As if she doesn't know she's beautiful! So he just smiled, took her hand, and asked "do me the honour and dance with me?" She did a little playful dip, "the honour would be all mine" before he pulled her close, he gave her a once over. He never saw the highlights in your hair, that caught your eyes, or the dress you're wearing tonight, he pulls you close. Dancing cheek to cheek, the way she feels this close to him, her small hands on his shoulders, his calloused hands, in the small of her back, sending electric shocks through her spine, swaying with the music, maybe Dean's caught up in the moment, but there's a question weighing on him for months, but now, now it feels like the right moment, he's voice sounded deeper than normal as he whispered, hot air brushing against her neck "Sweetheart?"

Slightly breathy, "Yes?" He cleared his throat, "make me the happiest man alive, and be my wife?"

Her swaying body came to a stop , "A...are you asking me" he cut her off, pulled back looking in her eyes, "yes, will you marry me?" I couldn't believe it, he just asked me to be forever his, without further due, I planted a kiss on his plum lips, soft tears rolling down my cheeks, he smiled against her soft lips, "is that a yes?" I break the kiss, smiling widely, "yes a million times yes" he laughed, picked her up, gave a twirl, and placed her down, his fingers intertwined with hers. Giving me that signature smirk, "What do you, say Mrs Winchester let's go catch that shifter, then we celebrate with some pie and beer?" I laughed, nodding, as happy as can be, "lead the way Mr Winchester".

@k-slla @jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @angelbabyyy99 @pia-bartolini

[dittolicous]

hear me out

stealth black!sanji where sanji does indeed start losing his emotions and word makes it way back to judge, so he has him kidnapped/his death faked and uses science to rush the removal of emotions along with wiping a good chunk of his memories to make him easier to control... the focus however was high-key placed on emotions such as empathy, humility, kindness, joy, etc. since judge wanted to ensure to an absolute degree that sanji's 'flaws' were wiped clean, leaving only the perfected stealth black he was always meant to be

but judge makes a mistake

in his hurry to eradicate the humanity, he didnt consider the consequences of leaving even an inkling of negative emotions within an abused, aching shell - smattering of disjointed memories, blurry faces in sporatic dreams, voices that are just outside his grasp, a longing for something but yet lacking a name...

injured, raw, bloody from unknown wounds he may be, but stupid, sanji is not

he's stealth black, espionage is his specialty, he knows how the human mind works, how words can be twisted, the ways a tide can be turned with the right leverage. all people, with the right tools, are malleable. he also knows the range of his 'father's' skills, knows how far judge would go to secure a victory, how little he fears damaging his own to get the right outcome...

sanji knows

there is a hole where his heart ahould be, deep, dark, and endless. he cannot feel love, but he knows its absence. there is no sympathy for the innocent lives ravaged in the vinsmoke name, yet its mention brings bile to his throat. he sees the sunrise across the sea with blank eyes and watches it set on the corpses of kingdoms with growing repulsion

his brothers laugh, they were taught how despite it having little meaning to them. they echo the teachings of their father.

sanji had that ripped away. he can recognize a hole when he sees it even if he doesnt know what once filled it. there are no empty laughs. no fake smiles. no uncaring boasts. he cannot, there was no reason for him to (were even the echos of joy a risk?)

instead he burns

hot loathing makes a home in his chest. contemp and fury settle in his lungs, growing with every breath he takes, fueled by the embers of despair settling in his stomach

sanji knows despair, knows how deep their roots take in humanity, that to be human is to suffer... but without the other half, the joy of human connection which makes it all worthwhile, the act of living, he cannot conceptualize the value of being alive in the face of such suffering

instead he stands back and watches. unbalanced, unchecked, and under-estimated, stealth black plans. he'll rid the world of their filth, finishing the job blackleg sanji was too weak to do

for in his hurry, judge forgot about sanji's rage, about the depths of his grief and the ferocity of his burning passion. so afraid of one little boys generosity, he brushes off the dangers of unbridled resentment, that malice cannot always be reigned in by an iron fist alone

and where once, there were certain teachings of honor and integrity, of love and belief to temper this flame, judge left nothing. he took away the soft words of a kind mother, the sharp kicks of a caring father (his real father), the unabashed voices of true nakama...

is it really all that surprising that once loving flames would turn into a blazing inferno, one which burns the world indiscriminately?

judge doesnt realize he didnt defang the wolf, no, he removed the muzzle

tl;dr - if a person is made of burning passion and you remove their kindness, wouldnt that just leaving burning? judge focuses only on getting rid of sanji's soft traits not considering that he'd never actually be able to control a sanji that rages indiscriminately, which eventually comes to bite him in the ass as stealth black sets the world on fire out of self-loathing

[vashs-turtleneck]

Deep Breath.

✧ Vash the Stampede fluff

Rating: G Summary: Surprising Vash with his birthday cake(s) on his special day. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader Word Count: 1.5k Content: fluff, slight angst. Song Rec: Before We Drift Away - Nothing But Thieves

“Happy birthday to you~”

Your soft voice fills the air as you set a large, fluffy cake on the table in front of him before he hears you scurry back to the dainty little kitchen. In the days leading up to Vash's birthday, you had told him over and over again how excited you were to see him celebrate the date properly. You helped plan out your travels to ensure the two of you were settled in a comfortable, quiet town where he would hopefully not be chased out before his special day. While he admittedly wasn't too fond of the idea of taking a whole day to celebrate himself, and he especially didn't like that you were using up your time worrying about him, he didn't have the heart to shoot down your enthusiasm. Not when he saw you beaming with joy at the prospect of being able to celebrate with him. He'll do it for you, he told himself. To make you happy.

So here he is, sat in an old inn, on a rickety chair, in front of the cake you so lovingly prepared for him. The entire surface is covered in dozens upon dozens of mismatched candles, save for the parts where you wrote in crimson icing. Through all the flames (which he deems must be some sort of fire hazard), he makes out the two words you wrote:

‘Happy’ along the top.

‘Vash’ along the bottom.

Uh– he's a bit confused. Happy, of course, but confused, though he doesn't have much time to dwell on it before he hears your little sing-song voice again.

“Happy birthday to you~”

And he's certainly surprised when you set another cake down in front of him, another one completely stacked with candles, and he's starting to think about how dry and old the walls of the inn are as he reads the writing on this one too.

‘Birth’ at the top, ‘The’ at the bottom.

He sees where you're going with this, and your silly idea makes him snicker.

“Happy birthday, dear Vash.”

A third cake, just as aflame as the first two, and this time he can't hold back the laugh that leaves him, almost blowing out a few of the tiny flames as he does, and his chest is warm as he thinks about how long it must've taken you to set and light up all these candles.

‘Day’ written at the top, and of course, ‘Stampede’ etched beneath, the word barely legible from how you had to smush all the letters together to get it to fit along the bottom of the cake.

“Happy birthday to you!”

This is definitely different from the last time he celebrated his birthday, when there was just one little candle to share between him and his brother, and Rem's face was hidden behind a camera. He can feel the emotions these memories well up inside him, and he does his best to bury them back down. For your sake. He doesn't want to ruin this special moment you've worked so hard to give him, after all.

Your soothing presence stands behind him with one of your hands resting on his shoulder while the other traces the lines of his cheek and jaw, the gesture absentminded, but heartwarming all the same, like loving him comes so naturally to you. You dip your head down to his level, resting your chin on his shoulder and your breath tickling his ear as you speak,

“It’s supposed to say ‘Happy birthday, Vash the Stampede.’”

“I can read, mayfly,” he chuckles, tilting his head towards you and pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek.

“Just checking. Making sure you're not going senile on me in your old age.”

“Mhmm. Touché,” he says with a smile tugging at his lips, his cerulean eyes fixed on the hellfire in front of him, and the sight makes him snort a laugh again. “But mayfly, you didn't have to spend all this money buying me three cakes. One would have been more than enough.”

“Firstly, I'll have you know I made the cakes, thank you very much.” You stand up by his side, bringing a hand to your hip. “Secondly, even if I did buy them, it would be worth every double dollar. You deserve to blow out all your candles, and I couldn't fit them all on one cake.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, a sly smirk on his face. “Or two cakes, apparently.”

“Do you know how old you are!? The candles were actually the most expensive part! I bled this town dry of birthday candles,” you retort, a little pout forming on your lips that he just wants to kiss away. You swat his shoulder, and he huffs out an ‘oof’ in mock pain just to see you smile at his dramatics.

“Enough about all that. You have to make a wish, sweetheart.” 

Oh. Right. You're supposed to make a wish and blow out all your candles on your birthday. Something he only got to experience once all those years ago.

Two human lifespans ago, really.

A wish, though? What's he supposed to wish for? You've given him so much more than he ever thought possible, and now he's supposed to ask for even more? Maybe he should keep it vague and simple and wish for love and peace? Ah, but that feels like the easy way out, and you clearly used too much of your valuable time on these cakes for him to cop out like that.

He's spent his long life with so little, trekked through valleys of sands all on his lonesome for so long, seen far too many people come and go for him to count, but he can remember the names and faces of each and every person he's had the pleasure (or displeasure) of meeting, all while his face has stayed the same.

Time has always been an enemy of Vash the Stampede. A human lifespan could never compare to that of a plant's, and humans are so much more… fragile. So, if he could just get more time with you. To hold you in his arms for just a while longer. A few more moments like this. A few months. A few years.

Would it be selfish to ask for a few decades together?

Would it be too much to ask for the rest of your time? 

Even if it means standing by as he watches himself lose everything, watching as you get swallowed up by the sands of time, all while his face stays the same?

“You know, I don't mean to rush you on your special day or anything, but I think this might be some kind of fire hazard.” Your words cut through the thick fog clouding his tumultuous mind, and he quickly shakes himself from his thoughts.

“Right, right. Sorry. Just thinking.”

“Nothing dumb, I hope?” you hum in response, and he chuckles out a little laugh. He hasn't laughed this much on a July 21st in a long, long time.

“Maybe a little bit dumb.”

“I'll allow it only because it's your birthday,” you say back, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Now, deep breath, angel. Show these candles why they call you the humanoid typhoon.”

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him. Three cakes, all covered in a comical amount of candles, and he doesn't doubt that you counted out exactly as many as you needed. As absurd as it all is, you did this. And you did this all for him.

He thinks about how this would've been a lot easier 50-something years ago, but he's going to give it his best regardless, because he really, really wants his wish to have a chance. Taking in the deepest breath his lungs can hold, until his chest is puffing out, Vash blows out each and every one of the dozens of candles you've so lovingly inlaid into his three cakes, until every last one bleeds out thin lines of smoke in the air, and for once he's thankful this inn is so cheap that they didn't bother with a smoke detector.

At his side, you clap enthusiastically at his rather impressive display. “You did make a wish, right?” you ask, and your head is back on his shoulder.

“I did. Don't worry.”

‘For many more birthdays with you,’ but if he says that aloud, it won't come true now will it?

“Good. You deserve it,” you say as you give him a hard, wet kiss to his face that smushes his cheek, and Vash feels his heart squeeze tight. “I'll cut you a slice, and maybe next year I'll make four cakes to spread out all the candles better. Hope you're okay with eating cake for three meals a day for a while, by the way.”

“You know there's candles with just numbers, right? Just use those next time.” And oh, does he hope for a next time.

“Nah, that's not as fun.”

A ridiculous idea, but he'll go along with it. For your sake, of course.

divider.

[honeyhotteoks]

i genuinely can't stop thinking about yunho as a fallen angel... like...

yunho’s catholic confirmation name is stefano, which is i believe a reference to saint stephen. saint stephen is the patron saint of several different things, but the one that caught my eye was the patron saint of coffin makers. ive had that knowledge churning around in my brain for a long time, especially after watching the kdrama doom at your service, but after seeing these pictures my mind is absolutely spinning with fallen angel soulmate yunho brain rot……… so come along with me

•

fallen angel yunho. he's been wandering the earth for years, passing through life and people and history and he's never known the reason that he was cast out until he meets her, you. he hears you first, a distant voice in the back of his mind, a prayer to his saintly name, a name he hasn't heard in what feels like a millennia. a whisper to saint stephen, the man he used to be, many years and many bodies ago.

no one prays to him anymore, not really. certainly not a voice like yours, ringing clearly and angrily in his ear, a bitter request for a coffin to be ready in early spring. he thinks about the way it's almost winter now, the air turning crisp, and he wonders what in your life has you so angry and yet so practical about death.

he thinks of you for days, weeks, idlily waiting to hear the voice again. he dreams of it, sometimes wakes from a stone sleep to your bitter tenor, the clear catch of tears in your throat, but it's always a memory. he finds himself wandering the city for you, searching through churches, reverent houses of worship that you might be hiding away in. he doesn't expect to find your voice ringing out clear as day across the crowded room of a museum, full of life and joy and the picture of health.

he finds a way to speak to you, he's practiced in the art of conversation, of seduction even when the end goal isn't sex. he just wants to know you, to hear your pretty prayer in person, to understand your voice just a little and why in the world you were praying to him and not god himself like everyone else. in the midst of many, he makes a space for you both alone, the connection and the pull immediate and essential.

for a while, you make him smile, laugh, relax, he feels more at ease and more like a person than he ever would have expected. he doesn't understand you or your prayer though, not until you cough painfully, fitfully into your sleeve and he sees the bright kiss of blood at the corner of your lips. he never imagined you sick, but he supposes it makes sense. in all the versions of meeting you he imagined, this outcome wasn’t one he ever entertained.

he's never watched someone he's loved die before, at least not since his first life, and shamefully he barely remembers the names of his family from then. but somehow he knows he'll remember yours, the way he aches is altogether new and even though he knows it would be better to watch over you from afar, he just can't. and it doesn't help that you keeps finding your way to him around every corner of the city, coincidence after coincidence. so easy to joke about how it must be fate when it is in fact fate, pulling you tightly together and tying the knot tight.

he allows himself to love you then, and you allow yourself one last, good thing. he never lies about who and what he is, and you never really believe him, for all you know he's just a figment of your imagination. a hallucination from one of your tumors like the doctor warned you about. you think if cancer can give you one gift before dying, at least it's him.

for a little while yunho thinks his purpose in falling from grace was to love you, after all you prayed to him, no matter how bitterly. but he understands the truth the moment he meets your daughter, the moment he realizes his purpose for you is much more than momentary, final happiness.

and so he carries you forward through those final months, easing your pain and your giving you one last chance at real, lasting love. and he helps ease you into the other side, his promises whispered tearfully into your hair, that he'll see you again but only after he stays by her side. your child's own guardian angel, happy to watch over her and guide her until it's her time to come home too.

and of course, that means he has to wait. you both do, but he's already waited, even when he didn't know what he was waiting for.

[lunarmoves]

your couch pillows are missing.

you noticed practically immediately after stepping foot into the living room, hair still damp from the shower you'd taken not too long ago. your couch looks so bare without them—a skeleton of the fluffy, comfortable glory it used to be. you find yourself frowning as you walk up to it and place your hands on your hips in suspicion. you're sure they were there before you'd taken your shower.

"hey sun?" you call out, knowing he's somewhere around your apartment doing who-knows-what. tidying, probably. he'll hear you no matter how far away he is. "where are the couch pillows?"

you don't have to wait long to get a response. "what did you say, dearest?" his voice calls back merrily from the kitchen. you hear some shuffling that gets a bit louder, coming from the open archway to your right. one of your eyebrows raises at his words, but you oblige and repeat yourself.

"i said, where are the couch pillows??" you say louder, then look up when a tall figure suddenly steps into your line of sight. you bite your lip to hold back an abrupt, sharp laugh.

"whatever do you mean?" sun asks innocently as he shuffles into the living room. grey sweats long enough to cover his lanky legs and an orange hoodie neatly cover his body. his arms are stuck out slightly at his sides as he waddles closer to you.

you eye his torso—the strange lumps that it consists of that you know had not been there before. "i think you know exactly what i mean."

"we don't," sun responds with all the sweetness of an angel. "care to enlighten us?"

you roll your eyes and take the two steps towards him until you're standing right in front of him. you have to crane your head back to be able to look up at his faceplate, making direct eye contact with pale, white eyes as you reach a hand out to poke at one of the lumps. your finger sinks into it.

sun lets out a gasp and gently swats your finger away. "rude!"

you finally let out that laugh you've been holding back. sun's rays do a delighted little spin around his head at it. "uh huh. say, what's that you've got under your hoodie?"

"i'm afraid i don't know what you're talking about," sun tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as best as he can. he feigns an indignant look. "there isn't anything under my hoodie apart from little ol' me!"

"suuure," you say, unconvinced. after watching him for a careful moment—exaggerating your observation with loud 'hm's and 'huh's, finger tapping at your chin—you eventually hold out your arms widely at your sides. an innocuous look plasters itself across your face. "can i have a hug?"

sun practically leaps in joy, white eyes upturning. "we thought you'd never ask!"

you're immediately scooped up into eager arms, your entire body pressed against the soft plushness of his torso as he swings you around and around. you laugh loudly and hold onto him for dear life, feeling the way his hands and arms have carefully wrapped themselves around your back. you can hear the gentle whirr of his servos and a steady click-click-click that you know is from his rays spinning about. a fuzzy feeling ignites itself in your belly that grows warmly with each passing minute.

you're dizzy and rumpled when he finally sets you down after what feels like hours, and you have just enough awareness in you to reach a sneaky hand under his hoodie to pull one of your missing couch pillows free.

sun immediately squawks and covers himself with his hands. his grin is wide, offended tilt to his voice as he says "why i never! at least take a robot out to dinner first!"

you smirk at him and hold the pillow up as though to say gotcha! "we have dinner together practically every night. admit it, the jig is up!"

sun cocks his head at you, then lets out the most dramatic sigh you've ever heard. one of his hands raises to press the back of it against his forehead. "alas, i am no match for you, my love. but! in my defense— it was moon's idea."

you let out a snort when one of his arms twitches in offense. "somehow i doubt that."

sun chuckles and gives your head a little pat. it makes you grin lopsidedly up at him. "yes, yes, too smart for your own good."

"what spurred this on anyways?" you ask as you toss the pillow in your hold back onto the couch. "feeling silly goofy tonight? hm?"

sun shrugs and reaches under his hoodie to pull the remaining pillows free. he makes haste to organize them properly on your couch—including the one you'd haphazardly tossed atop it. whoops. "i suppose! just wanted to add in some more comfort to our hugs! robots aren't exactly squeezable material, you know."

you pause and find yourself staring at the back of his head, gaze softening at his quiet admission. "aw bud, you're plenty squeezable, don't worry!"

"if you say so!" sun hums and spins around once he's done nitpicking your couch to his metal heart's desire.

"hey! none of that!" you wag a finger at him, and after a moment, spread your arms out wide again, bracing yourself for the incoming onslaught. sun perks up, looking at you with a steadily widening smile. "come on, i'll prove it!"

[softspace-fics]

His to cherish.

A/N - I saw this tiktok sound and immediately wrote this up, it's been a day on my end but I hope you guys get a smile out of this <3

Masterlist - All my work!

Warnings ⚠️: None! All fluff, bucky being in love.

_______

Bucky cherishes the days where him and Steve stay home with you. When you woke up small today, they were so excited to be able to finally have a day to be caregivers together.

After a long few weeks of them being stuck in either the tower or on a mission, they finally had a day where they were both home and you could have both of your caregivers.

Steve had let you sleep in their bed the night before because he was just so excited to be able to spend all day with you. This included wanting to wake up and hold you close to him.

Steve who normally would drop everything if someone in the tower needed him or at least respond because he always had a objective to be a responder completely turned off his work phone and even his personal phone. He wanted no interruption from the others that weren't you and Bucky.

Days like this Bucky knows hes about to die if absolute cuteness overload because the days you have both of your cgs is the days your littlest side comes out and your able to be as free as you need because one of them will always be there.

When Steve gets into "Nothing but my babys" mode, he knows you will get practically anything you want, and bucky will get unlimited kisses (not like he doesn't get that anyways, but they just feel so different when Steve's overflowing with joy).

Bucky realized soon after breakfast that he needed to go out to the store and get some new things for dinner. He loved to cook for you and Steve, and seeing as Steve would burn anything he touched, it was a good thing he loved to cook.

"Hey, I have to head out to go get a few things from the store, do you need anything?" Bucky steps into the living room where Steve has you on his lap facing him while you were holding his face.

Steve's laugh filled Bucky's ears as you squished your Papa's face and were trying to imitate fish noises.

"Steve, do you need anything from the store?" Bucky asked again, leaning against the kitchens door frame, admiring how happy you both looked.

"Huh? Oh uh, no I don't think so?" Steve glances up at Bucky before returning his attention to you.

Bucky figures he'll get you and Steve a surprise at the store while he's there but if Steve needs anything, he'll text him.

Bucky gathers his items to leave the house and puts on his shoes before he turns back to the living room where you and Steve still were.

"Okay I love you guys I'll be back" Bucky's voice echos loud enough to be heard but not to startle you or Steve.

"Love you!" Is all he hears back.

Maybe he heard wrong?

Bucky walks over to you and Steve when have transitioned into laying on the couch next to eachother, the tv playing your favorite cartoons.

"What?" Bucky asks.

"What?" Steve looks up at him confused.

"I love you." Bucky repeats, looking at Steve with a eyebrow raise.

"...Love you too?" Steve continues to look at Bucky, unsure of what Bucky's getting at.

"I love you"

"Love you too??"

"Who loves me??"

Steve finally puts two and two together and looks at Bucky before laughing slightly and looking at buck with a humored apologetic face.

" We love you, buck." Steve smiles at Bucky before he glaces down at your droopy eyes. He begins to play with your hair before looking back at Bucky.

"Thank you." Bucky smiles before he walks over to the couch and kisses your basically asleep head.

Bucky goes to walk away before Steve catches his hand and pulls him into a kiss, them both smiling into it.

Bucky eventually pulls away, and kissed Steve's nose before heading out to the store. The moment making him smiley the entire way.

The days where neither of them have to hear anything about the bad parts of the world and they're able to just absolutely bathe in eachothers plus your love are the days they remind themselves they can do anything.

Bucky cherishes the days where him and Steve stay home with you, because this meant that the two most important people to him were around to love him, but most importantly, he was around to love you guys.

____

[chainelunaire]

how you know they love you

shigaraki

- he takes your side in any argument, even if he personally doesn’t agree with you. when you’re in public, he’s always on your side. which is big, since he is the leader. if you’ve made a mistake, he’ll made up a thousand excuses for you, even when you’re not really fond of the idea of not taking any responsibility. he expects same behaviour in return.

- often brings you with him, when he takes his long long walks through the night city. that’s where he can usually be somewhat affectionate in public, by taking your hand carefully. 

- he lets you do basically anything in his room, including bothering him directly. he doesn’t get annoyed in the slightest, you can clearly see how he’s pretending to be, but he’s really not. you are always welcomed in his room. prefferered even. 

- he encourages you in a very subtle ways, like sharing your hobbies, learning more abouth them, providing you with materials and therefore suggesting you to tell him more. he can get really invested and he just likes to listen to your ramblings. they soothe him and he has better sleep later.

- lets you win when you play videogames. he does this very discreetly, it actually looks like you’ve beat him, so you don’t get offended that he wasn’t even trying. he does this just to see you beaming with joy. it warms his heart.

- usually he’s sitting near you at the diner table. and before your relationship he never really ate with others. he was always alone.

- if asked well enough and if it’s really important for you, he might change his final decisions. and we’re talking big, like some serious stuff, where no one but him decides. it’s a big deal for him, for his reputation, he’s also very stubborn, so don’t overdo it or he might blame you later. he loves you almost as equally as being petty.

dabi

- he’s very brash and blunt by nature, so he tries to tone it down quite a bit. he knows he has the tendency saying things he doesn’t really mean, and it’s not to say he still won’t say them. he just really tries to be more gentle.

- turns out, he’s pretty touchstarved. good luck with that.

- he’s much more open with you. actually he’s really talkative, when the right topic, to the point that he talks so much you might think he just loves the sound of his own voice (which partly is true since in his childhood he was rarely heard and it all translates into his now present behaviour, he can’t get enough attention, ever). so he introduces you to all of his favourite books and tv shows and everything he loves, and he can’t just stop talking. he knows you like to hear about everything, so he delivers. also, great partner to gossip.  

- cleans your room for you, sometimes even cooks. all while scolding you for being so nasty and helpless. fascinating.

- if you fuck up, he’ll be the first who tells you you fucked up. he’ll be very honest and straightforward about almost everything. he also will help you fixing anything. 

- he brings you with him on his night outs and he’s keeping an eye on you at all times. he’ll always pick you up after party, no matter how much he whines about it. he'll put you in bed if you drunk and passed out. he’ll curse the life out of you, but he’ll still do it. 

- since he has great memory, remembers everything you’ve said to him, ever. sometimes it’s nice, sometimes it’s annoying. depends on a matter. usually it’s the most convinient to him, of course, he can tease you endlessly, but every once in a blue moon it’s actually useful.

- he’s actually not the easiest guy to make laugh, again, not humorous by nature, but he genuinely loves your jokes. the dorkier, the better. he laughs a lot with you.

hawks

- he’ll try his best to make time for you. he’s very busy and he puts his soul into his work, so appreciate it. it’s very big for him.

- one of his love languages is gift giving, and he’ll always bring you one after returning from a long mission. they’re not always fancy, most of them just simple stuff which reminded him of you when he was away. but, if it’s fancy, it’s usually jewellry. he likes shiny things a lot.

- he becomes much more quiet in your presence, letting you shine and all. but mostly it’s because he doesn’t feel pressured when near you. he can become himself, not the hero hawks.

- the more time he spends at home, the less he feels the need to cut off his sharp talons. he rarely wears his gloves. he takes off his lenses, which make his pupils more human-like, since he has very intense stare (because yk, he’s a bird of prey). 

- he talks about his future with you. what you both would want and all, what you’d do after war. like, you’ll definitely know he’s planning on spending his life with you.

- he’ll eat basically anything you’ve served him. he doesn’t care. he’ll compliment you anyway.

- he’ll let you touch his wings and take care of them. another big one, because one, he’s not touchy at all, two, he hates when others touch his wings in particular. he never gave anyone permission to do that, and he kinda gave up. he sort of takes his power back, when it’s so openly consensual.

- tries to be more open with you. he’s very secretitive and reserved, it’s hard for him to open up. at some point you’ll probably hear that he loves you out loud, but don’t rush it. the fact that he told you that he ‘was slightly injured at mission but it’s okay now don’t worry!’ is already a lot. because before you won’t even notice, he’s a great liar when he wants to be. with gentle encouragment, he’ll lean on you more and more.

[ilycove]

A pair of arms wraps around your ribs and holds you tight. Xyx buries his head in your collarbones and takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent and your familiarity.

The rain's been coming down for a while, you assume, because his hair is wet and making you laugh softly as it glides up and down your neck. A hand reaches up to mess his hair up and he stops breathing entirely, for a moment at best, like your touch scared him to the core. You frowned at the thought and turned (to the best of your abilities) towards him. "Hi, love. Is everything alright?"

He doesn't reply and that's more of an answer than anything to you.

"Ah," you chuckle a bit and keep note of how his attention is purely focused on breathing in your scent and you wordlessly persuade him off of you, becoming face to face with him. "Rough day?"

Xyx sighs and runs a hand through his hair then proceeds to wipe his hand on his suits blazer. "Sorry, but I'd really rather not talking about it."

"That's alright too." You hum and grab his dryer hand, wiping your thumb over his knuckles and you barely see how his eyes go from mildly annoyed to something soft; relief or maybe a watered down version of joy. "Would... you like to join me in the bathroom?"

He stares at you for a second before processing a response, a voice that's barely there. As quiet as a willow tree and wavering ever so slightly, shaky almost. "Please."

His grip on you is almost bone crushing, like you'll leave him at any given moment, while yours is certain he'll stay. You guide him to the bathroom and close the door as he begins undressing. You help him with the little things, undoing his tie and unbuttoning the ends of his shirt. When he's bare in front of you, you press a kiss in the center on his tattoo and he just shivers.

He watches as you light a candle and make sure the water in the bathtub is a suitable temperature for him, and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion when he sees you only roll up your sleeves. "Are you not joining me?"

"No," You smile at him and gently help place him into the bathtub, kissing his cheeks and brushing hair out of his eyes. "I just wanted to help you relax, that's all."

"Oh."

Xyx sighs in contentment as you cup water into his water and massage shampoo on his scalp, and if you see tears in his eyes you don't comment on it and he doesn't recognize them. His heart beat feels like it's going insane, like he can't breathe properly with it pounding pounding pounding on his ribs. He's certain you can hear it.

Xyx once felt he was falling, someone unable to save like Icarus, and you caught him. He once believed he would never find someone who loved him again, he once believed he would spend the rest of life atoning for sins he does not remember committing and he found you instead. You bless him with your presence and for that, he's forever grateful.

You're humming and it's a song he knows you like, a song he's come to like because of you. He hums along with you and your humming becomes less of a modern tune and more of a hymn of laughter he finds himself addicted to.

You pour conditioner on his scalp and he relishes in the attention your fingers give him again, the sour look that was once previously on your face replaced with a smile.

You wash off the soap on once of your hands and hold one of his, the hand washing his hair becoming increasingly slower as time moved on. You two in the moment just felt timeless.

Xyx squeezes your hand and you squeeze back instantly, in sync. He kisses your knuckles and you kiss his, in sync. He leans over to kiss your head and you do the same, only wiping your mouth off afterwards. "I think I just got soap in my mouth."

He laughs and it's something beautiful and you smile because of him, and vice versa. He's only Xyx when he's with you.

You dry off his hair and brush it out for him, and you guide him to your shared bed and he follows you like a blind mouse. You say him down and kissed him softly, a tender moment that lingered for a second. He pouts and looks at you with doe eyes. "Doll, that was awful, you barely even kissed me. I think you need to try again."

A laughter escapes out of you and your fingers find his face once more that evening, pulling him closer to you. You kiss him again and again, like a broken record and he comes back, again and again. "You're so greedy. That's a deadly sin, you know."

Xyx smiles against your lips, finding the nape of your neck. You half-expected him to be looking at you with something devilish in his eyes, but you found nothing short of an angel sitting in front of you. "I'm well aware," He pulls your hand up to his lips again, kissing each knuckle separately. "And I would spend the rest of my afterlife in Hell if it means I got to be with you for as long as I can breathe."

[kolyubov]

Hi! Can I request Nikolai with a reader who achieved HIS goals? Like (maybe almost) not feeling emotions at all, but she still thinks she's not free. So she pretends to have emotions and much more goofier than him... But when she gets serious she really gets serious!

Sfw! I would love to see how Nikolai would act towards her! :)

Hiii, you're my first request and I'm so excited! I hope I met your expectations<3

Well, I think even if you pretend to be all silly around Nikolai, he'll notice sooner or later. After all, he knows how to pretend to be someone he isn't (like when he pretended to be a secretary or a police officer). And when he confronts you about it… things don't go as expected…

He wouldn't want you to lose your sparkle :((

✧ contents. angst?, Nikolai is a bit ooc and obsessive if you squint.

Nikolai decided to take you out today— The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, it's the perfect day for a date, he thinks.

The spot was far from the city, you weren't even sure where this park was situated but that didn't matter since Nikolai’s coat could bring you back home in an instant.

You two set a blanket down, along with some food and even board games to pass the time before sitting down.

Just the two of you.

“Dove, Look!”

Nikolai points at something behind you, but when you turn around you only meet with the scenery of the park— leaves rustling with the wind, birds chirping, the sound of water from a nearby lake…

The sight alone was almost mesmerizing.

Almost.

You didn't feel happy even if you were smiling slightly; which was only to pretend how much you were supposed to enjoy it. You rather feel melancholic.

When you turned back to Nikolai, he was holding a bouquet of white flowers; lilies of the valley, tulips, roses.

You had to force a bigger smile as you looked down at the flowers, trying to avoid his gaze as the melancholic feeling grew bigger inside you.

The gift itself was incapable of bringing you any sort of joy, rather you felt cherished by him because he intended to make you happy with the white bouquet.

“Oh… Kolya, dear. You didn't need to!” You giggle, reaching for the bouquet, but before you do he pushes the bouquet away from your hands and tilts your chin up.

The smile on your face falls when you meet his heterochromatic eyes, his right one is uncovered. A soft smile across his lips.

He's vulnerable in front of you.

“Darl’, if you want it, I need you to do something for me, please.”

You stay silent for a few seconds before putting on your mask again and chuckling.

Arms wrapping around his neck, making him drop the bouquet and instinctively resting his hands on your waist.

“Want me to smooch you all over your face? paint your nails? try new hairstyles on your hair? help you to bother Sigma? or—”

“I need you to be honest with me, dove.” His voice turns a bit more stern as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

The way his softness falters makes you realize he's serious, so you stop smiling too.

“Why are you lying to me, hm?” He almost sounds like a father grounding his child. “I'm not mad at you, I just wanna help you because I care about you. I know something's wrong.”

A long sigh escapes your lips. Nikolai would know exactly how you feel; what you wish for… because he's feeling the same too.

To get rid of any complicated emotions that always get in the way of everything.

To be free.

“I don't wanna feel anything anymore…”

Nikolai could feel how his system completely stopped for a brief second after your words. His eyes widened, his hands went numb to your hips, and his stomach twisted.

His darling… not feeling anything?

That'll mean not hearing your sweet laugh when he says something silly, not seeing how your eyes open wide in excitement each time he shows you some random trick, not seeing those pretty cheeks getting red as you cry or get embarrassed.

Does it mean not loving him anymore?

Nikolai's large hands cup your cheeks, and you swear you could feel his fingers trembling.

“Love, don’t— don't do it, nonono.” His voice cracks slightly. He's getting desperate.

Of course, you still love him with your heart and soul, it's impossible to get rid of the love you feel for him, plus, you don't want to even if that means not being completely free.

“I think it's already a bit late… don't you also want to—”

Before you could finish speaking, he pushed you down on the blanket, locking his fingers with yours to pin you down.

“It's not the same, dove. You don't understand.”

A nervous chuckle emerges from his lips. He doesn't want to lose you, because losing your emotions means losing your love for him too.

And he wasn't going to let you leave him caged alone with his complex feelings.

“It's not fair that I'll be the only one who's stuck with his emotions, isn't it?”

There's a large grin on his face that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You can't leave me alone… You won't leave me alone. We'll both be suffering from these emotions if it means being together...”

Nikolai giggles, sealing his promise with a tender kiss on your lips as his hands tighten around yours— Making sure you know you're stuck with him as long as you keep breathing.

© 2024 pinklacydovey