#drink tea and read in silence

[camerarchives]

I miss her.

It was a long time ago...

L.

[charonean]

In case anyone cared, I made an ambience video for Casimir and his son-figure, Alastair (credit to @freckleshine007)

[girlscience]

BUT WHEN WILL I EXPERIENCE AN ANCIENT CALLING THE REQUIRES ME TO GIVE UP MY LIFE AND GO ON A LIFELONG QUEST FOR KNOWLEDGE AND PROTECTING INNOCENTS

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Parties were NOT Simon Riley's cup of tea. Not only did they drain his social battery, but he was the type of man that much preferred the comfort of a good book and his bed over that of social interaction.

But today was New Year’s Eve, and not only had Soap practically threatened him to come, you would be there. Seeing you would make attending the shitty party worth it. Seeing you always made anything worth it.

Simon walked into the mess hall, his heart racing slightly as he realized just how many people were here. All of the soldiers still on duty were gathered, eating, drinking, joking. Just the sheer amount of chaos that was ensuing made Simon want to run back to his room.

Until he saw you.

He found you watching TV, nursing on some concoction of drink, a languid smile on your lips as you saw him approach.

“Sergeant.” Simon nodded in your direction as he came to stand by you, thankful you couldn’t see the crimson forming in his cheeks.

“Lieutenant.” You smiled up at him, before letting your eyes fall back to the TV in front of you. "Surprised to see you here tonight."

Simon grunted in reply, his eyes scanning the crowded mess hall, finding his Scottish friend laughing with a group of recruits. "Johnny forced me. Plus, the company isn't so bad."

You turned your face slightly, a blush reaching your cheeks at his admission. "Glad to know my company is suitable for you."

You both stood watching the party for a while as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. This was one of the things Simon adored about you. You never forced him to talk, which frankly, made him all the more eager to do so with you.

“Y/N-.” He began, but Johnny had cut him off with a tap of his glass.

"Alright everyone, begin the count down! It’s ten seconds to midnight!” Johnny called out, grabbing everyone's attention, prompting nearly everyone in the mess hall began to shout out the countdown.

"Ten!"

You couldn't help but look over at your lieutenant, your breath hitching slightly as you saw he was already looking at you, his soft brown eyes softening as they locked on you.

All of the noise in the background, the cheers, the conversations, the sound of the TV, all vanished in that moment. The only thing mattering to you was the way that Simon Riley was looking at you.

"Nine!"

Your many years alongside him began to swirl in your head, all the long missions, the close calls, all those times he risked his life for you, and you for him. All those times he'd let you in to see the man behind the mask, the man that was Simon Riley.

Your feelings for him had only grown in all the time you'd been alongside him, and you found yourself utterly and completely in love with your superior.

"Eight!"

Simon took a step closer to you, his eyes remaining as stoic as ever as they stayed locked on yours. You always hated how you could never tell what he was thinking, could never read what he was feeling by his looking in his eyes.

God, what you would give to be able to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his right now.

If only you fucking knew.

"Seven!"

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as his he now stood almost chest to chest with you, his frame towering over yours as he looked down at you. You blinked a few times, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. "Hi."

"Hi." He replied, his tone quieter than usual. His hands began to shake slightly as he slowly began to move one of them toward the base of his balaclava.

"Six!"

You watched as he pulled his mask up, revealing a handsome jaw, lined with stubble. His lips were littered with scars, and you couldn't help but stare at them. From what little you could see of his face, you realized just how fucking pretty he was. As if there was any doubt.

"S-Simon." You breathed out, the intensity of his gaze sending a heat coursing throughout the entirety of your body. You couldn’t help yourself, you let your hand grip lightly at his arm, prompting him to chuckle softly.

"Five!"

Simon leaned toward you, his finger lightly touching your chin as he tilted your face up towards his. You found yourself leaning up toward him, your heels leaving the ground slightly.

His touch was so gentle against your chin despite the rough texture of his fingers, and it took everything in you not to moan at the tenderness of his touch.

"Four!"

“You want this?” He asked, his voice holding a nervousness you’d never been on the receiving end of before. “With me?”

All you could do was nod up at him, not trusting yourself to speak. You don't think you'd ever been this nervous in your life, your mouth running dry in anticipation.

"Three!"

This was it, wasn’t it? After all these years, after all those long nights, those deep talks, those longing glances… was this really about to happen?

"Two!"

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you felt his breath on your mouth, his lips being just a hair away from your own. You could hear him inhale sharply, and watched as his eyes darted toward your mouth.

"One!"

It was as if time stopped when his lips finally met yours. They slotted against yours so effortlessly, almost as if they were made to be kissed by you.

After years of loving Simon Riley, he was finally, finally kissing you. And it was everything you could ever have hoped it would be.

He pulled away a moment later, the smile on his lips now reaching his beautiful brown eyes. “Happy New Year, sergeant.”

A Happy New Year indeed.

[loveraging]

𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐚

𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘦𝘪𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Summary: you always drink tea in the evenings. Spencer always watches you, admiring from a distance until he finds the courage to admit what he knows to be true. For now, though, he's content in the serenity you bring, in the shape of teacups and late-night reading. Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, tea with milk (don't knock it..!), reference to a vaguely depressing book. W/C: 1.2K A/N: first fic, massively exciting! Even more nerve-wracking! Time to stop lurking though, and share a bit of my own work. :)

━━━━━━━━━･❪ 🥀 ❫ ･━━━━━━━━━

Spencer glances over the edge of his book, down the aisle of the jet, seeing you all the way in the back. You’re leaning against the wall beside the kitchenette, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you wait for the hot water, in which you’ve just put your teabag, to turn the right brown colour. He knows this dance, he’s watched it countless times. You always stare at the teacup with a crease on your forehead, watching the water like a hawk until it’s the right colour, after which you pull out the teabag. You let it rest against the edge of the cup, just above the hot water, letting it leak out most of its contents. Then you add a splash of milk, which is also done with meticulous focus. Morgan had once said you seemed like a scientist when you made your tea. Your reply had been simple: “Tea is to the body as music is to the soul, darling.”

At the end of the day, such as right now, it’s always Earl Grey, and you let the teabag steep for a while, allowing the tea to become so strong it’s nearly bitter. The milk balances it out, according to you. Spencer has never felt brave enough to try that particular brew, even though you always offer it. In the morning, however, as he now knows so well, it’s always chamomile. It soothes you, apparently, and helps you start your day. He remembers ranting on and on about the medicinal benefits chamomile has the first time he watched you make it in the kitchenette in the BAU, and you had listened to all of it, only to, by the end of his long rant, simply say: “Why d’you think I drink it?”

You’ve finally finished your brew, leisurely making your way over to where he is and sitting down in the chair beside him, the one by the window. That’s your spot, he knows now. His spot is beside wherever you sit, but he’d never admit to that out loud. You offer your cup to him, to which he shakes his head with a small smile, and you shrug as you bring it to your own lips—it’s what the two of you always do. You always offer, and he always declines. It’s a nice little ritual. The other part of that ritual is that you finish your tea in complete silence, and over the months, he’s learned to keep quiet during that. You’ve never outright told him to shut up, but you don’t really reply to him when he talks. You hum and nod, but it’s not a real conversation. Eventually, he learned that it was because, to you, that cup of Earl Grey at the end of the day was a moment of tranquillity—complete serenity, your whole body in restful repose. A moment to let the day wash away and to gather your thoughts. Now, he enjoys it with you, whenever he can.

When you’ve finished your cup, you put it down on the table, which is Spencer’s sign to shuffle in his seat until he’s in the perfect position for you to rest your head on his shoulder—it took him a while to perfect that one, but he’s got it down pat now. His elbow is on the armrest so that his shoulder is at a slope, and his legs are crossed so he doesn’t unconsciously bounce them up and down and accidentally disturb you.

Normally, when you rest your head on his shoulder, you cross your arms in front of your chest before closing your eyes. This time, however, you do something different. Slowly, your hand moves behind his elbow until your forearm is hooked around it as if you’re about to walk arm-in-arm. It stays like that for a moment as you ask, “What are you reading today, then?”, which is the question you always ask. It’s another part of this ritual: you ask what he’s reading, which is his sign to explain the book, to which you always tell him to read a bit to you, and as he does, you fall asleep. 

“East of Eden, by John Steinbeck,” he says, and you nod despite your head resting against his shoulder. He’s about to explain the plot of the book when you suddenly move your hand and start drawing small circles on his skin, languidly brushing your fingers on the inside of his forearm. He, quite phenomenally, instantly loses all train of thought and can only stare at the way your hand caresses his arm where his sleeves are rolled up.

“What’s it about?” You ask, quietly, which only adds to the intimacy of the situation.

“You’re making it a bit difficult to focus,” he murmurs and your hand pauses. He immediately regrets ever saying anything.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. No, definitely not,” he says, before clearing his throat as he tries his best to summarise the book through the haze in his mind, while your hand resumes its dance. “It’s—it’s about this dangerous rivalry between two generations of brothers, similar to Abel and Cain from the bible. It’s mostly about the endless contest between good and evil.”

“Cheery,” you mumble, making him laugh softly. “Read it to me, would you, sweetheart?”

As if he’d ever say no. “The cemetery was deserted and the dark crooning of the wind bowed the heavy cypress trees…”

Your fingers keep drawing circles, slowly but decisively, as he reads from the admittedly depressing chapter. As the minutes drag on and Spencer realises he can’t remember a single thing he’s just read to you, your hand draws lower and lower, until your fingers are tracing the lines in his palm. He keeps glancing over as if he can barely believe what he’s seeing. And then, like the grand finale to a beautifully slow buildup, you push your fingers between his until your hands are fully intertwined.

He knows he stutters over a few words, he knows his breathing audibly hitched, but you don’t comment on any of it. You simply keep your hand where it is and wait for him to react: for him to reject or accept it. He accepts it wholeheartedly, he’s more excited about this than anything that’s ever happened to him, and the only way he knows how to tell you is to squeeze your hand as decisively as he can. 

You squeeze back, and he continues softly reading to you.

Fifteen minutes later, he knows you’re fast asleep. Your grip in his hand has gone a bit slack and your breathing is rhythmic and even. He’s not reading anymore, now just staring at your intertwined hands and marvelling at the fact that this is happening. Finally, finally, he’s getting somewhere with this. All that patience, all that waiting for you, that admiration that he had from the sidelines, it has finally cultivated in this. He only hopes that it will continue to grow. 

And if Emily tries to slyly take a picture and Morgan nudges JJ with a sly look, Spencer pretends not to notice any of it. He’s too busy staring at you anyway. 

[rowdyluv]

needed you - qh43

summary: y/n has an intense fear of storms, particularly the incessantly loud rumbling thunder.

word count: 3.4k

notes: @sweetestdesire request for a a quinny fic. “You’re really scared of some thunder? C’mere.” turned out to be angsty but soft quinn

warnings: use of y/n, tense, angst, may induce stress, soft quinn,

"See ya, guys! Thanks for the fun night in," Y/n called out to her friends as they filed out the door, their laughter and chatter echoing down the hallway. She waved goodbye, feeling a bit relieved that the party had wound down. The quiet was a welcome change from the earlier clamor of games and gossip. The apartment was left in a gentle mess, but the warm glow of friendship lingered in the air.

Y/n stretched while she yawned and began to clean up, her mind wandering to Quinn. She knew he was out with the team, but she had hoped he'd be home sooner. The thought of his strong arms around her, calming her raging thoughts through the impending storm, brought a smile to her face and a bit of ease to the sickness winding in her stomach. As she packed away the last of the snacks, she glanced out the window. The night was still, the moon casting a serene light over the cityscape. She couldn't wait to crawl into bed and cuddle up with him, sharing stories about their respective evenings.

Meanwhile, at the bar, Quinn sat in the middle of a booth between Brock and Petey, his shoulders slumped and his eyes glazed over from the beers. The laughter of his teammates washed over him, but he couldn't find the energy to join in. He checked his phone again, noticing it was already 12:30 AM. He had promised Y/n he'd be home early tonight, but the guys had talked him into a few more drinks. He felt a twinge of guilt, but he never truly goes out so maybe just this once it should be okay to be selfish.

“Huggy put your phone down! We’re here to have fun.” Garland slurs from the other end of the table.

Quinn nodded and slid his phone into his pocket. He knew he had to stop checking it every few minutes. It was getting late and Y/n was probably worried, but he didn’t want to dampen the mood with his own anxieties. He took a deep breath and tried to push the feeling aside, focusing instead on the raucous laughter around him. The bass of the music pounded through the bar, making the floor vibrate beneath his feet. It was the kind of music that demanded you to either get up and dance or get lost in the rhythm, and for a brief moment, he let it consume him.

Back at the apartment, Y/n stood in their kitchen with shaking hands, the weather gradually getting worse was setting her nerves on edge. The wind had picked up outside, whipping against the windows like a crazed lover. Rain had started to patter down, a prelude to the storm that had her heart racing. She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself that Quinn was just stuck in traffic or had lost track of time. He'd be home soon, she thought, trying to reassure herself. But the silence of his unanswered texts and calls was deafening.

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something to do, anything to distract her from the storm brewing outside and the one building inside her chest. She settled on making a cup of tea, her hands trembling as she filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. The gentle hiss of the gas flame igniting filled the room, but it did little to calm her nerves. As the water heated, she checked her phone again, willing it to buzz with a message from Quinn. Nothing. The wind howled, and the rain grew heavier, now pounding against the windows.

“Maybe if I call him?” She thought out loud. The clock read 1:10 AM as she dialed the number she knew by heart.

“Hey, you’ve reached Quinn, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” His voice, though much younger and recorded, brought a bit of comfort, but not enough to ease the two storms brewing. The one in her and the one outside. She took a deep breath and began to leave a voicemail, her voice shaky but steady.

“Hey, Quinny, it’s me. Hope you’re having fun with the guys. Uhm just wanted to let you know that the storm is starting to get pretty intense out there... I’m sure you guys are fine and just having a good time. Call me when you get this, okay? I…just mi—want to know you’re okay. I love you, bye!” She hung up before she could say anything else that might betray her fear.

1:30 AM.

The bar was getting louder, the air thick with the scent of stale beer and sweat. Quinn leaned back in the booth, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The music was a cacophony of beats and shouts that didn't quite drown out the thunderous pounding of his own thoughts. His eyes scanned the table, finding his teammates passed out, their heads resting in a pool of spilled drinks and crumbs. He had never felt more out of place, yet he stayed to make sure these morons made it home.

If Quinn knew anything in that moment it was for sure that he’d be getting them back at practice this week.

Back at the apartment, Y/n's trembling grew more pronounced with each passing minute. She couldn't ignore the storm anymore. It had started as a gentle whisper, a hint of rain against the windows, but had escalated into a full-blown symphony of thunder and lightning. Her heart hammered in her chest, each peal of thunder sending shockwaves through her body. She curled up on Quinn's side of the bed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, the cold screen a stark contrast to her clammy palms. The scent of his cologne still lingered on the pillow, faint but comforting. She buried her face in it, breathing him in, willing him to appear through the door.

‘One more call? No that’s to creepy clingy girlfriendy.. But he likes clingy girlfriendy y/n..’

Her thoughts swirled in a tornado of doubt and fear. Finally, she gave in, hitting the call button with trembling fingers. The line rang once, twice, three times, before she heard his voice, a recorded message that didn’t ease the ache in her chest this time. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic from seeping into her voice.

“Quinn, it’s me again. The storm is really bad out here. The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared. I know you’re busy, but I need you. I know you said you’d be home early, and I trusted you. Please, come home soon. I’m not okay without you here with me, especially when it’s like this. I love you so much, and I just want to be safe with you. Call me, text me, anything. I need to know you’re okay. I’m just—I’m really scared, Quinn. I’m sorry, I know I sound desperate, but I can’t help it. I need you right now. Please come home soon. Uhm bye,” she whispered into the void, the weight of her words hanging in the silent apartment like the eye of the storm.

The phone remained eerily silent, the screen a cold, unyielding barrier to the warmth she craved. She sent one more text, a simple heart emoji, and hoped that somehow, it would be enough to break through the barrier holding him hostage from his phone.

With each flash of lightning, the shadows from the windows grew more menacing, reaching in like skeletal fingers to pluck at her already frazzled nerves. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her fleece blanket and bolted from the bedroom, her bare feet slapping against the cool hardwood floor, and dashed into the ensuite bathroom. The only room in the apartment that didn't have windows and hopefully wouldn’t make her feel claustrophobic. The bathroom was a small sanctuary of porcelain and tile, the scent of mint and the hum of the extractor fan a stark contrast to the tempest outside. She locked the door behind her, creating a barrier between her and the storm, but it didn't help. She could still hear the thunder rumbling like a displeased giant, each boom echoing through the walls and reverberating the foundation of the building.

Her phone, now a silent sentinel of her fear, remained in her hand. She checked it again, hoping against hope that she had missed a call or a text. The screen remained dark, cold, and unchanged. Her heart sank, the weight of loneliness pressing down on her chest like a lead blanket. 'Why isn’t he answering?' Her thoughts screamed. She knew he wasn’t the type to ignore her, especially when she was scared. Maybe his phone died, or maybe he was too busy, but the doubt was eating her alive.

Quinn's head snapped up, the sound of his ringtone piercing through the buzz of the bar dwindling down. He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone to see Y/n's name flashing on the screen. He had missed a couple calls and quite a few texts from her, each one more frantic than the last. His heart sank as he saw the time, 2 AM. He quickly stood up, knocking over Petey, who fell into Dak, in his haste. Which worked out in his favor as he had to walk over them. The room filled with fuzzy stars for a moment, a reminder of the drinks he too had consumed. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He wasn’t driving, so he ordered up an Uber home.

As he waited, Quinn felt his stomach twist into knots. He knew how much Y/n hated storms and here he was, leaving her alone to face it. He had promised to be there for her, and now she was probably terrified out of her mind. He scrolled through the texts, each one a silent plea for him to come home. He read the last one, her voice echoing in his mind. "I'm really scared, Quinn." He cringed, feeling like a complete asshole for not being there for her.

The Uber pulled up, and Quinn practically threw himself into the backseat, slamming the door shut behind him. The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror, the concern clear in his eyes. "You okay, buddy?"

Quinn nodded, trying to ignore the guilt that clawed at him. He fumbled with his phone, finally managing to play the voicemails. Y/n's voice filled his ear, each word a dagger to his heart. "The storm is really bad out here," she whispered, and he could almost feel the tremble in her voice. "The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared." The sound of her sobs grew louder, the thunder outside seeming to sync with her cries. Quinn wasn’t afraid of much, so he didn’t quite understand his girlfriend’s fear over storms. It could be because she didn’t care to say why she’s scared, and he wasn’t going to press her. It’s evident they bother her, and it’s enough for him to be the support she needs.

Until he’s not.

The bathroom door rattled in its frame as the storm outside reached a crescendo. Lightning flashing under the space between the door and the floor. Y/n had never thought that lightning was the scary part of storms, it has always been the thunder that had driven her to seek refuge in someone, something, someplace. She wasn’t quite sure why the deep, resonating booms always managed to succeed in getting her so worked up.

Maybe when she was younger it was because she had always associated them with crawling in bed with her parents or if the power went out they would gather in the living room to play games in the candle light. Until the day every thing just up and changed. No one was there to help her weather the storm, figuratively or literally.

Maybe now it’s because she has grown accustomed to associating thunderstorms with Quinn's soothing touch and whispers, telling her that everything would be okay. That with him, he would never let anything happen to her. He, who had become her anchor in the storm, was nowhere to be found.

The Uber ride home was a blur of neon lights and puddles reflecting the chaos of the storm. Quinn's mind was racing, his thoughts tangled with guilt and fear for Y/n. He had never been the one to break a promise, especially not one so important to her. He had to get home, had to hold her and tell her it was okay, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The car pulled up to the apartment complex, and Quinn dashed out into the rain. The cold droplets stung his skin, sobering him up as he sprinted towards the building. The lights in the hallway flickered as he panted up the stairs, the thunder now a constant drumroll in his ears. His hand shook as he inserted the key into the lock, the sound of the tumblers clicking into place echoing through the empty corridor.

He burst into the apartment, the door slamming against the wall. "Y/n!" he called out, his voice strained with worry. The living room was dark, except for the TV screen flickering with a muted news broadcast. Rainwater dripped from his hair, tracing a path down his forehead and into his eyes. He wiped it away, his heart racing as if he had just played a full hockey game. Quinn let out a heavy breath before he hurried upstairs towards their bedroom.

Reaching the bedroom door, he carefully pushed it open. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. The bed, usually a bastion of order and comfort, was a writhing mess of blankets and pillows. It was clear she had been restless, her fear probably keeping her from finding any semblance of peace. But she wasn’t there. The room was empty except for the ghosts of his guilt and her fear. He flipped on the lights, the sudden brightness piercing the gloom, revealing the chaos of his side of their now empty bed.

Quinn's eyes searched the room, looking for any clue as to where she could be. That’s when he heard it. A muffled sound, faint but unmistakable. Sniffles, coming from the bathroom. He approached the closed door, the thunder outside giving way to the quiet that follows, as if the storm was holding its breath. He placed his hand on the cool wood, feeling the vibration of the storm's power through it. "Y/n?" he called out as softly as possible.

The sniffles grew quieter, almost as if she was trying to control her cries. She stepped out of her place of refuge enough to unlock the door, she then quickly retreated back to her previous position. She was curled up in the bathtub, her knees to her chest, her chin perched on her knees, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

Quinn’s heart broke when he saw her like this. He had never seen her so scared, so vulnerable. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her further. "Hey," he said softly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. But she jerked away from his touch, her body stiff and face showing no emotion.

He dropped to his knees, the one desperate for her attention now.

"Y/n, baby, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I had no idea it was this bad." He took a step closer, the scent of rain and alcohol mingling with the faint minty scent of their bathroom. He wished he could take away her fear, absorb it into himself so she didn't have to feel it anymore.

"You promised me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You promised me, I would never be alone again with no warning, no explanation beforehand. You promised you’d be home early." She choked back a cry on the last part, her eyes glued to the faucet, watching the droplets of water fall into the tub. Quinn shattered into a trillion pieces. He had promised all of that. No apology will be enough to make any of this better, he accepted that, but he had to at least try.

"I know," he began, his voice thick with regret. "I fucked up, Y/n. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I didn't mean to leave you like this." He paused, willing her to look at him, to see the pain in his eyes that mirrored hers. "You're my entire world, you're everything to me. I'd never want to cause you pain, especially not when you're already scared." He tried reaching for her again, this time to push her hair back and combing his fingers through her hair. He left his hand cradling her head.

"Garland told me to put my phone away," he murmured, his voice low and tight. "And before I knew it, Brock was pretty drunk and Petey was extremely wasted. I had a few myself. The music was so loud that the bass kept me from feeling the vibrations of my phone, and I lost track of time. With them so wasted, I felt I needed to make sure they got home okay, but when I finally checked my phone.” Quinn paused swallowing down the knot in his throat “and I discovered your calls and all the messages I left." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his guilt. "I know it doesn’t account for the fact I should have checked my phone way before, I should have come home earlier like I had promised."

Y/n felt the anger and fear melt away with each of his words. She knew the guys could be a handful. What group of hockey players weren’t a handful? She didn’t want to add anymore to his burden of guilt. She leaned into his hand, the warmth of his touch sending waves of comfort through her. "Can we go cuddle now?" She asked him shyly, her voice still shaky. The storm outside was slowly calming down, but the tempest in her chest raged on. She needed him, needed his warmth and his words of comfort to soothe her. Quinn quickly wiped the shocked look from his that was slapped on the moment cuddle now fell from her lips.

“C’mere pretty girl.” Quinn grins as he lifts her from her bathtub refuge. “I will never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with you.” He softly places her down on her side of the bed, walking to his dresser to grab himself a set of dry clothes, finally. “I’ll be right back to you.”

Y/n nods into his chest, watching him retreat back into the bathroom. She takes a deep breath, the fear of losing him subsiding more and more with his touch. She grabs the first t-shirt she can find from his drawer, pulls it over her head and wraps it around herself like a cocoon. She crawls into bed, able to relax this time around when lying down.

When Quinn returns, freshly changed into a dry shirt and sweatpants, the sight of her in his shirt brings a warm smile to his face. He slides into bed next to her, pulling her close so that they are face to face. Fitting together as if they were made for each other. She feels the warmth of his body seep into hers, the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm as she lays her hand flat on his chest. The rhythm of it soothing her like a lullaby.

"I could feel and listen to your heart all day, just to know you’re okay," she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, her voice muffled but clear enough for him to hear. He pulls her in tighter, a silent acknowledgement. A low rumble of thunder in the distance happens and he rubs his hand soothingly over the back of her head.

Quinn whispers, "I’m making you a new promise, pretty girl. I promise from here on out I will not be going out when storms are predicted. Only exceptions of course are those to do with work. Unless it’s just the guys wanting to go out, that is not work related.” Y/n didn’t speak, to exhausted to form words just nodded her head in acknowledgment before dozing off.

He watched her for a few minutes, grateful to be holding her in his arms. The thought of her curled up in the tub, terrified, was a knife in his chest. He had never meant to cause her this much pain. He kissed the top of her head reveling in her soft breaths as she slept before whispering what’s been on his mind since his shower to her sleeping form. “I noticed you didn’t end your second voicemail with an ‘i love you’ or now before falling asleep…we’ve always made a point to make sure the other knows, regardless of how bad the argument was. I know you aren’t hearing this because you’re asleep but it’s easier to say it now than looking in your eyes tomorrow and watching tonight all over. I just really hope you know how much I love you.”

“Good gracious, you forget and he gets all sappy. Yes Quinny I love you. I love you. I love you.” In between each ‘I love you’ was a peck on the lips.

Quinn couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm, like a quiet summer night. He pulled her closer, the storm outside now just a faint memory, the rain had turned to a gentle pitter-patter. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally her lips, feeling the tension of the night slip away with each touch.

"You know you're going to have to repeat that when I’m fully awake, right?" She mumbled falling right back asleep.

“That is perfectly fine, I’ll be right here next to you whenever you’re ready.” Quinn closed his eyes and was soon asleep as well.

A night of two tales, Quinn is lucky it worked out for him and happy he’s able to keep his girl.

[urmomisunderme2]

False god

Warnings: manipulation, implied stalking, mama/mommy wanda, tiny bit smut, mean wanda, dyslexic😭😭 bad writing and it’s short

Wanda saves you one day in the forest and stuff happens ig

You had meet your mommy…you don’t even know how long ago but you remember you where wondering through the woods upset and ready to end it all, tears streaming down your pink cheeks, you couldn’t keep going anymore, you couldn’t even walk around any more. You dropped down to the ground closing your eyes hoping you would never open them again.

“Oh my sweetie are you okay?” You hear this voice over you and a warm hand rubbing your arm “oh honey your so so cold” you squeeze your eyes open to see who this mystery person is but it’s far to bright for your little eyes. You feel the woman lifting you up into her arms holding you close “can you open your eyes for me baby girl” she doesn’t really ask she’s more telling you but you still shake your head to tell her no “yes you will, you can do it” you squeeze them open seeing a beautiful middle aged woman with auburn hair in front of you and you can’t help the whisper of a woah escape your lips “someone’s feeling a little better I see” the beautiful woman chuckles and you nod your head yes.

“Maybe you need a warm drink to heat you up…would you like to come and get one at mine?” You can’t help but get excited by the idea of getting to spend more time with her “YES PLEASEEE!!!” She smiles and gives you a kiss on the cheek. The mystery woman carries you for a while until you arrive at a cozy well built cabin, the woman opens the door and brings you to the sofa before a fire place and putting you under what seems a home knitted pink blanket “mmm so cozyyyy”

“I’m glad, here’s some green tea detka it should make you feel all better” the woman kisses your head and sits down next to you, you take a sip of the hot tea forgetting all the things that happened before she found you, they where crap memories anyway. Once you swallow your sip of tea you realise you don’t know her name “oh I forgot to tell you my name…I’m Wanda” she smiles like she could read your mind “I’m y/n” for a while you both sit in a comfortable silence while you finish your tea. Later that night Wanda puts on a movie, you end up cuddling into her and by the time the movie ends it’s dark outside and you never want to leave.

“Can I stay please?” You ask praying that she will say yes “of course pretty girl” Wanda smiles, you had never left since except for the walks you and Wanda sometimes go though the woods.

Over time you had gradually started calling her by mommy/mama, you couldn’t really help it, your brain had become all fuzzy and it was all to hard but mama was always there to take care of you. Forever.

———

“Mommy- I please” you moan was wanda’s fingers rut into you “so tight sweet girl, so good for mommy” it was all so much, no one had ever touched so nicely before mommy.

“God you look so cute when mommy plays with you baby” wanda moaned, she had a vibrater against her clit “mommy mommy please” wanda went faster as you begged making you cum, her cumming only a few seconds later. That was the first time she touched you like that and definitely not the last. It was one of your favourite things to do with your mama and luckily your other favourite things always lead it to sex, movie nights, bath time, colouring.

Today you woke up before her, that had never happened before mama was always up first and every so often she would wake you up with breakfast in bed.

You decided you where going to do the same for her, you sneak out of bed and out the front door to the outside, you hadn’t been outside by yourself since before you came here, you didn’t remember it at all but mommy told you she found you sad in the Forrest.

You walk around a bit looking for raspberries and blueberries that mommy always comes home with when suddenly someone pushes you against a near by tree wrapping their hands around your throat, you look up to see your mama but she looked different, not as happy as normal, you try to speak but you can’t when she’s holding your throat the way she is.

“You little brat, running away from me” she spat as you look at her confused “oh don’t look at me like an innocent little baby, I know your not, I watched you for months before you came here and you want to go back to THAT?!” Wanda’s hands get tighter around your throat “I can’t believe it after all I have done for you, the life I have given you out here as my baby free from stress and worry and now you do this to me?” You’d never seen her so mad before. You where starting to struggle to breathe trying to take in breath’s but none of them giving you enough air “mama- can’t breathe” you manage to choke out but she doesn’t listen as a sinister smile creeps up her face “good” Wanda whispers in your ear.

You start to kick her trying to get away, you weren’t running away from mommy but she wouldn’t listen and now you had too. You keep kicking but you can’t get out of her grasp only frustrating her more and more “you little bitch” she tightens her hands and everything goes black. Wanda carries you home changing your clothes and tucking you into bed “your mine baby girl, you can’t go anywhere” she whispers giving your head a little kiss.

You wake up a few hours later, hearing Wanda humming in the kitchen, you carefully get up and slowly walk through to the kitchen, Wanda turns around to greet you “oh look who’s finally, you where having nightmares my pretty baby” she holds you close, “but they where real” you mumble and wanda stiffens “tell mama and mama will tell you if it happened or not” she tells you hoping to find the reason why you’d run away without you having to know what she did to you “went to get berries to make mommy breakfast in bed and and… mommy was so mean to me… it hurt” Wanda’s fake smile flatters before going back into place, you had went to get berries for her and she had physical assaulted you.

“That never happened baby girl” she shush you, she could never let you know what had happened.

—///-

Tag list- @idkwhatever580

[vrystalius]

Where and how did Sanemi and Tomioka meet their wives?

How did Sanemi and Giyu meet their wives?

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He still thinks a lot about how he first met you. Sanemi was bloodied and covered in his own and demon’s blood, his wounds are deep and exhaustion threatened to make him faint.

He needed some kind of medical attention, desperately. So, he stormed into the first house be came across. To his luck, it was your humble abode.

The first time you saw him, you screamed in horror. There is a bloodied, injured man, in the middle of the night, standing in front of your door, equipped with a katana and a threatening expression. This man was just staring there, menacingly. But after that scary man collapsed on your front poach, your fear was overcome by the need to help this man.

You dragged his heavy body all across your livingroom and hallways, and dragged him onto your futon. You got a bucket of cold water, a whole lot of bandages and medicinal herbs, and then got to work.

You cleansed every single wound of his, minor scratches and cuts to slashes and open flesh wounds. You disinfected them with alcohol and washed the dirt off, before applying an ointment and wrapping bandages all around him.

While inspecting his body, you noticed how many scars this man has… he must be a fighter or something.

After Sanemi woke up, his head was spinning from the blood loss and confusion. He stared at you. The light from the sun peeking in illuminated you perfectly.

“Am I in heaven?”

Giyu Tomioka

You were just an owner of a restaurant that recently moved near Giyu’s estate, and you just so happen to be selling his favourite dish: Syake-Daikon. He found out through Kyojuro that you were selling that dish, otherwise he would have never went to your restaurant on his own.

Every day, or at least everyday he’s free, Giyu would walk to your local and order the same thing every day. Syake-Daikon with some macha tea.

You started to recognise this pattern. This black haired, quiet man would always come around the same time, so you’d prepare his dish beforehand so you could give it to him right away. You noticed how he was quiet and never conversed with anyone in the local, or ever brought a friend along. So, you didn’t want to bother him by striking up a conversation.

But after around two weeks after not coming around, Giyu came back to eat his comfort dish. That day you decided to talk to him.

“Ah, Sir! You’re back! I’ve been starting to miss seeing you every day. Barely anyone else orders your signature dish!” You greeted him with a big, warm smile and gestured him to sit in his usual spot.

Giyu was incredibly taken back about you talking to him and even remembering him. He had a faint smile on his face.

“Thank you. I’ll write a letter next time, so you don’t have to prepare the dish beforehand. Sorry for the inconvenience.” Giyu sat down across you while you prepared his Syake-Daikon. You two sat in silence again, but this time it was more pleasant.

💠

Thank you for reading <3 Hope you enjoyed! I’m experimenting with the aesthetics of my works, so please leave some feedback on what you’d like to see visually. My requests are open and I’m happy to receive asks, thrists and requests~

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[daenysx]

i was thinking of remus and this is how i like to imagine him in a modern au i guess <33 requests are open if you wanna share with me, angels

remus lupin who's a night owl because apparently the silence is perfect for focusing on his books

remus lupin who ate too much chocolate once, he got sick

remus lupin who keeps eating chocolate because you can't possibly think he'll give up on his serotonin source

remus lupin who smokes in the early mornings as he watches sunrise

remus lupin who looks like a literal angel as he leans from window with his soft lips exhaling the smoke

remus lupin who has sensitive hands, he has to apply a hand cream every night to keep them from drying

remus lupin who takes his coffee black with no sugar

remus lupin who sometimes tries special drinks at a cafe (like pumpkin spice latte?) just because james insists

remus lupin who wears oversized sweaters

remus lupin who sleeps naked

remus lupin who likes long cuddling sessions in the morning

remus lupin who loves having his long legs tangled in yours

remus lupin who gives you sleepy kisses on your warm skin

remus lupin who adores counting the marks you left on his neck and chest

remus lupin who is responsible for making coffee in the morning

remus lupin who likes drinking red wine straight from the bottle with you on his bedroom floor in the evenings

remus lupin who gets quiet and cuddly when he's upset

remus lupin who likes getting his hair played with

remus lupin who uses the word 'dove' far too many times in a conversation with you

remus lupin who has classical pieces and rock songs in the same playlist

remus lupin who likes making love to you for hours

remus lupin who also likes getting rough when you're both in the mood

remus lupin who likes putting his head on the crook of your neck

remus lupin who has a messy handwriting

remus lupin who doesn't tidy up his room unless he really has to because he can't seem to find anything without a search party

remus lupin who needs to use reading glasses but he doesn't like the way they sit on his nose so he's being neglectful a lot

remus lupin who likes wearing mismatched socks when he's alone

remus lupin who has a home that smells like old books and orange cookies

remus lupin who eats all the chocolate before every time you try a new recipe just to see you flustered (also because- well, it's chocolate)

remus lupin who trusts james and sirius with his life

remus lupin who still uses wired headphones

remus lupin who likes sleeping with a background music

remus lupin who gives the best back rubs with his huge hands

remus lupin who likes midday naps

remus lupin who gets obsessed with herbal teas once in a while

remus lupin who can watch three movies in a row

remus lupin who has the comfiest couch you've ever seen

remus lupin who keeps you on the couch until you go lax in his arms as he cuddles you like it's his last day on world

[thinkingabprice]

helping you fall asleep <3

john price x reader, hair brushing

-

you had been tossing and turning all night, flipping sides in bed every couple of minutes. no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't fall asleep. john lies next to you peacefully, surprisingly not snoring for once and you couldn't help but envy his ability to fall asleep quickly.

you turn over once again before huffing and frustratingly sitting up, rubbing your eyes out of annoyance. you get out of bed and walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, searching for anything that might help you fall asleep faster. unfortunately for you, you ran out of tea and you were meant to head to the grocery store tomorrow, well, really today, as you glance at the clock on the stove reading 3:25am and you can feel the life draining out of you. you and john said goodnight before midnight, how had you not fallen asleep by then?

you close the fridge after a minute of looking over its contents and open it once again, just making sure you didn't miss anything. you didn't. you decide to just drink a cup of water and convince yourself that the water will help you sleep.

soon enough, you make your way back up to bed and lay down but you find yourself tossing and turning once again. you lay on your back as you stare at the ceiling, tears pricking your eyes as you grow more frustrated, a soft sniffle accompanying them.

john shifts against you and you worry that you woke him up somehow and you still for a moment. you think you're in the clear when all of the sudden a deep voice breaks the silence.

"you alright, sweetheart?"

"yea i'm fine just can't sleep is all" you speak quietly and you can hear your voice shake towards the end, the fatigue and frustration catching up to you.

john moves again and you can feel him turn to face you and you turn to him with a frown on your face.

"poor thing come here," he says softly, opening his arms to pull you close.

you allow yourself to be pulled in, and you rest your head comfortably on his chest and his arm wraps around you, his warmth enveloping you whole. his other arm reaches up to your hair, brushing through it softly and the feeling spreads throughout your body, you couldn't feel more peaceful.

you hadn't even noticed how your eyes grew more tired and soon enough your soft snores filled the room and john smiled to himself as he realized you had fallen asleep. he holds you even tighter to him and he doesn't stop stroking your hair, even though he knows you don't need it anymore.

you wake up the next morning expecting to be met with an empty bed, john always started his day before you, but you were surprised to feel his arms around you still, his position almost completely unchanged from when you fell asleep hours earlier. you move against him and he rubs your arm gently, turning to you with a smile.

"slept well?"

"mhm," you smile up at him snuggling even closer to him than before and he happily holds you tighter as you close your eyes again.

john noticed your watery eyes the night before and at that moment he knew he was staying with you no matter what. you shouldn't be crying over something so trivial like not being able to sleep and he was determined to make sure you didn't wake up until you were ready.

it didn't matter if he woke up a few hours before you, he was content with you just laying comfortably by his side and it melted his heart even more knowing that he was able to help you so easily.

the next night when you two got into bed john was quick to hold you in his arms, making sure to brush your hair softly. he wasn't going to let you stay up trying to fall asleep again.

[figsnpassionfruits]

Black Coffee

word count: 1k tags: logan howlett x fem!reader (can be read as gn!), fluff, established rs warnings: implication of nightmares dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

He looked so peaceful.

The sound of the chirping birds travelled through the open windows, entering your home and filling your bedroom with it. It was the reason you were awake, along with fresh slight winds of the clear forest air, the curtains dancing to its flow.

You were facing Logan, a hand of yours on his bearded cheek, your thumb grazing his skin back and forth. It was not often that he got to sleep and rest like he was now. You had just moved into this house a few days ago. But you could already tell that for him, this was his safe place. Not only because it was in the middle of the pine tree forest, but also because of you.

He looked so peaceful.

Careful to not wake him, you scooped your legs up, lifting the covers only enough for you to wiggle out of bed silently. Glancing back at him with your lips in a tight line, you placed your feet one by one on the cool wooden planks, getting up slowly in order to not make the floor creak. Once up, you started tiptoeing out of your shared bedroom, heading to the bathroom to freshen up before going to the kitchen.

Logan loved black coffee. You did not understand how anyone could drink it that bitter but for him it was more of a functional drink than something to enjoy. Not that he needed it to wake up; that man was practically a unit anyway. It just made him feel more human to share coffee or tea with you in the morning. Besides, he was too proud to allow himself to add some milk or sugar. No matter how he was behind closed doors, a contrast to how strangers would see him, this was the one thing he would not change: The drinks stay bitter. Any time of the day where he is able to spend time with you is a blessing. So if he has to drink black coffee to have it; he will.

After pouring his coffee into his favourite mug, you tenderly walked up the stairs, trying to remain quiet in order to not wake him. No matter how at peace he seemed to be right now, Logan was used to be on edge his whole life. Any sound too noisy was able to wake him up right away, possibly with his claws out and adrenaline pumping through his veins, ready to get rid of the threat. It hurt your heart every time he had wake up like that. Therefore, being as quiet as possible was the way to go.

Once back upstairs in your bedroom you leaned on the doorframe, not able to hide the corners of your lips quirking up as you took another look at him.

He looked so peaceful.

As you walked cautiously to his side of the bed you placed the white mug on his nightstand, creating a small sound that made you cringe. You sat down next to his frame, slowly letting your hips sink into the mattress. Leaning over to him, you delivered small kisses over his nose and cheeks, resting a hand on his chest and the other on his cheek once you noticed him flinching awake.

“Good morning to you, too.” He mumbled, his voice raw and gravelly. Logan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his exposed chest, his grip around your back tightening each second, making you giggle.

When trying to fight back and sit up, he only held on more, making you burst out a soft laugh. “Stop it!”

Logan grinned, his eyes crinkling as he let out a soft chuckle before finally letting go.

Once you sat up and rested your forearms on him, you took a good look at him, the eye contact filled with love and warmth.

He looked so peaceful.

Logan tucked a lose strand of your hair behind your ear, a large hand of his running up and down your back.

“I brought you coffee.” You smile, running your fingers through his dark and messy hair.

“Can smell it.”

A moment of silence passes where you continue to look at each other. It seemed like he was just taking you in, analyzing your face in detail with a gentle curl of his lips.

“I already watered the plants.” You informed him, your fingers now travelling downwards to roam over his chest.

Logan raised his eyebrows, clearly playfully mocking you. “Did you now?”

As a response you lightly tapped his chest before reminding him that he had promised you to go on a morning run with you.

“Just a few more minutes.” He grumbled, placing both hands back on your back to embrace your warmth. The skin-to-skin contact put him at ease. Made him feel safe. Made him feel peaceful.

“I love you.”

Logan smiled at you, leaning his upper body up to give you a small yet rather long kiss. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Managing to get him up was a story for itself. It included a lot of pulling and tugging at his arm. Obviously, he just gave in and given you what you wanted. How would you be able to singlehandedly pull up a man whose bones consisted of adamantium?

Once at the front door, already dressed and hair put up to your liking, you were tying your shoes, waiting for you lover to join. You looked up when you heard the creaking of the stairs only to see him in shorts and a tank top, making you smile. “There you are. I almost thought I’d have to go alone.”

Logan clicked his tongue, “You won’t ever go alone if I’m here.” He said. He took advantage of you being bent over and gave your behind a small smack, grinning once you stood up straight.

“Perv.” You giggled, smiling into another kiss.

🍯

[urfriendlywriter]

25 things that gets me flushed when I'm reading:

( this list has gestures, actions, scenarios, and words that are expressible for the actions! / @urfriendlywriter ) ( tag me when yall write IMP the 12th, 13th, 14th and 15th!! )

cuddles and hugs during rain

kisses on the brow, eyes, jawline >>>

moans. whimpers. whispers.

smiling into your hair during hugs

brushing their lips against yours

heat creeping over their neck

touching, teasing, leaning in

smiling shyly, biting lips with a shameless smile

raising an eyebrow with a grin, head thrown back

impatient, feverish kisses or touches. hands around their neck, or in their hair, cupping their cheeks, touching their nape, grazing their jaw

quiet hugs, breathing uneven, warmth spreading from their body to yours

hearts beating a little faster, lips failing so hard not to curve up in their presence

stolen glances, faint brushes of their fingers over yours

fingers tipping one's jaw, caressing the bottom of their lips, behind of their ears, or nape of their neck (ughh sucker for these)

hands gliding down the other's body

them lying at your lap, reading to you or listening to you

holding hands, visiting each other's parents, baking in the kitchen together

hugs that lasts a little longer

eye contacts remaining unbroken until a third person clears their throat

drinking tea together. company in comfortably silences

coming over to pick you up for a date

^ eyes scanning your outfit with amuse

holding the car door for you, draping a coat over your shoulders, tugging your waist closer to theirs >>>>

feeling giddy in love, hot in their fingers, warm near their body, shy under the sheets

giggling together, laughing together, being so at ease with one another.

[another-lost-mc]

Feel the Heat (Royals Edition) DIAVOLO & BARBATOS 2k words | NSFW | afab!Reader | Shameless Smut Content warnings: Poly!Reader, demon heats (vaguely mentioned), demon forms mentioned (Diavolo, Barbatos), threesome, oral sex (afab! and m! receiving), cockwarming, rough sex, voyeurism. A/N: Read the other Feel the Heat fics: The Demon Brothers | Newspaper Club Edition.

When Diavolo and Barbatos go into their heats - synced together almost perfectly - they invite you to the Demon Lord’s Castle for a tea party. No matter how many times you insist that isn’t necessary, they insist that it is. It’s charming that they try to maintain a semblance of decorum, even though you can see their heat symptoms slowly overwhelm them.

Diavolo visibly sweats through his RAD uniform, and his eyes are black pools of desire that stare at you hungrily across the small table on his private balcony. He has difficulty speaking and he’s breathing heavily. Eventually he stops trying to form words at all and replies only with sharp nods of his head or low grunts.

Barbatos doesn’t pour him tea, and Diavolo wouldn’t drink it if he did. He’s unspeakably hungry for you, but he reminds himself that he needs to prove he’s not a mindless beast that only wants you for your body. He crosses his legs and grips his chair when the urge to lunge across the table and claim you grows unbearable.

During his heat, Barbatos can't maintain his composure for long and you can tell he's not faring much better than Diavolo is. Like his master, his skin is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. There’s a tremor in his hands when he pours your tea. He murmurs apologies when some spills over the rim of the cup, an unusual occurrence when he’s normally so controlled and meticulous.

On a typical day, he stands by Diavolo’s side, or behind him. During his heat, he hovers behind you instead; you can hear his sharp intake of breath whenever he dares to lean forward and scent you. He is usually more discreet, but today his nose is nearly against your skin; his warm puffs of breath tickle your neck.

You tell yourself you’ll eat something - a small, delicate pastry prepared by Barbatos himself - and then drag them both to bed before they completely lose control of their senses. You don’t want to risk having to fuck them on the balcony (again). There might be enough privacy so you won’t be seen, but there’s nothing to silence their feral noises or your own pleasured cries.

There was one previous visit when the onset of their heats blindsided all of you with its intensity. They took you right there on the balcony instead of the cozy bed inside. Barbatos swiped the table clear of his expensive, beautiful china and ripped down your pants and bent you over. He fisted your hair while he fucked you with fast, punishing thrusts; Diavolo jerked himself off as he watched, muttering filthy praise for you under his breath.

After Barbatos was temporarily satiated, Diavolo pulled you down onto his lap and urged you to ride him too. He laid on the uncomfortable ground himself and shielded your delicate body from the rough stone, the way any proper mate would. After he came, Diavolo held you while Barbatos licked the sloppy mess from between your thighs, then his master carried you inside before the next wave of their heats took hold.

(They were both entirely smug about that little tryst afterwards. The scratches on their backs and knees lingered for days which constantly reminded them of you.)

Your demon hosts are already restless when they wait for you to choose a dessert, so you pick the closest pastry to avoid testing their patience. You bite into the flaky turnover and panic when sweet whipped filling spills across your mouth. Your lips are covered with powdered sugar and cream, and you wonder if Barbatos hoped this would happen all along. There's a quiet rumbling emanating from his chest behind you, and across the table, Diavolo clenches the arm of his chair so tightly that you can hear the wood splinter and crack.

This is ridiculous.

You wipe your mouth quickly with the back of your hand and stand up knowing that they’ll follow. Diavolo slowly rises from his seat across from you, and his body shakes with anticipation and poorly-disguised lust.

Barbatos holds out his gloved hand to you and you place your palm in his. You think he means to lead you inside, but he brings your hand to his mouth and licks away the traces of sticky sweetness left behind. His tongue flicks across your skin far longer than needed - he’s chasing your taste now too.

Two pairs of dark eyes snap to yours when you whimper. You can only withstand so much attention and overwhelming desire from them before you feel yourself unraveling too. Diavolo takes your other hand and drags you off the balcony with Barbatos close behind.

They lead you into the bedroom where they can finally have you all to themselves. Your hands are shaking with anticipation, but thankfully Barbatos helps strip off your clothes so you don't have to fumble with the buttons of your shirt. He’s gentle with you, but he can’t resist the urge to brush his lips against your skin - and nip at the unmarked flesh with his teeth - as his nimble fingers undress you.

Diavolo stands behind you and tilts your chin back so he can kiss you, and he groans at the lingering sweetness he tastes on your lips. His impatient hands explore the bare skin Barbatos reveals to him: your bare shoulders, your breasts, the dips and curves of your belly and hips. 

During most of their previous heats, Barbatos fucked you first. I need to prepare you for the future demon king’s cock, he whispered in your ear when you wondered why he was allowed to stretch you with is fingers - and his cock - while Diavolo watched you both with dark, hungry eyes.

But today, it seems they have something different in mind. “I want to prepare you myself,” Diavolo’s rough voice growls into your ear. He clasps his arms around your body and grinds his cock against your ass. He’s in his demonic form behind you; you can hear the restless stirring of his wings. His horned silhouette on the wall is monstrous, but you know there’s nowhere safer than the greedy embrace of the demon prince that loves you. 

Barbatos is in his demonic form too, but he’s positioned himself flat on the bed and only the topmost buttons of his shirt are undone. He palms the staining bulge in his pants. He meets your half-lidded gaze with his own and licks his lips expectantly.

Diavolo rests his hands on the small of your back and nudges you towards the bed. You kneel on the edge of the mattress, and Barbatos crooks his finger at you. You crawl on your knees and he shivers when you slide your hands up his thighs and spread them apart to give you more space. Diavolo settles on the bed behind you, and he peppers kisses along your back while his hands squeeze at the soft, jiggly skin of your ass. 

Barbatos unzips his pants for you, and he tilts his head back against the pillow when you pull out his cock. He’s been leaking inside his pants and the tip is already wet and glistening with traces of his arousal. You swallow his cock down with one smooth glide of your lips wrapped around him, while Diavolo buries his face between your thighs and licks greedily at your slit. You moan around Barbatos’s cock, and he echoes you with a soft groan of his own.

After a few minutes of clenching the bedsheets while you drag your lips along his shaft, Barbatos snarls and rips off his gloves with his teeth. It surprises you to see him do something so uncouth. You drool pathetically from the corner of your slack-jawed mouth onto his cock, but that seems to rile him up even more. He smooths his bare hands over the sides of your face and he cradles your jaw. He helps guide your movements, up and down, over and over again in a sensual glide of your spit-slicked lips around his cock. He doesn’t push your head down faster or deeper than he knows you like. Your mouth is warm and wet around him, and you flick his cock tip with little kitten licks before you swallow him back down.

Barbatos knows he’s going to come first. His tail’s been thumping restlessly against the mattress, and the forked ends wrap around your wrist in an effort to ground himself. A grunt and a few shallow thrusts of his hips are your only warnings before he pumps his cum into your mouth. It flows hot and sticky across your tongue and down your throat when you swallow.

He needs longer to recuperate than his master does and he’s already softening in your mouth. You hold him like that gently, enjoying the sensation of him, hot and heavy, on your tongue. You squirm when he murmurs that you’re being such a good cockwarmer for him. He lets you enjoy it a little longer and he only pulls away when he becomes too sensitive.

Diavolo growls possessively deep within his chest when the air continues to thicken with his butler’s scent. He’s nearing the edge of his own self-control and needs to fuck you, but he needs you to come for him first. He’s three thick fingers deep inside you, massaging your walls and teasing the spongy spot hidden within. He laps at your slick with his tongue and sucks on your clit. Your body trembles and you undulate your hips to meet the greedy movements of his tongue and fingers. 

When you approach your own release, you’re whimpering and moaning both their names, an endless siren’s song that threatens to overwhelm them both. You rest your head on Barbatos’s belly and close your eyes while the sensations between your legs start to overwhelm you. Barbatos whispers sweet praise as he strokes your neck and shoulders - he tells you how good you are, how beautiful you look, how delicious you smell and taste.

The combination of Barbatos’s honeyed filth pouring from his mouth, and Diavolo’s lips and fingers plundering your body for pleasure, finally drives you over the edge. You try to muffle your cries, but Diavolo slaps your ass; he wants all of your noises for himself, and he’s going to have them. Your head shoots up in surprise, even though his hand startles you more than it hurts you. He’s finally satisfied that he can hear your gorgeous whimpers and moans unobstructed. His fingers are drenched with your slick, and he sucks them into his mouth while he waits for you to catch your breath.

Barbatos helps you maneuver more comfortably onto your side, then he tucks his cock into his pants before he rolls off the bed. His young master is already crawling up the bed to lay beside you, and Barbatos smiles when Diavolo curls his wings and arms around you protectively. This is a rare moment of peace and clarity that the young prince has to spoil you with sweet words and loving affirmations. Soon enough, his heat will rob him of his words, and he’ll become a touch-starved, primitive beast once more. 

Barbatos watches from the shadows when the prince's gentle kisses and touches become rougher and more purposeful. When Diavolo finally mounts you and starts fucking you in earnest, Barbatos sneaks from the room.

He hurries to retrieve some basic necessities that the three of you will need by the end of the night: water, snacks, and some healing and rejuvenation potions for you. You helped him break through the haze of his own heat - temporarily, at least - and it’s enough for him to be quick and efficient gathering supplies from the castle kitchen. He has to be quiet when he returns, although he doubts either of you will notice. As he approaches Diavolo's room, he can hear the muffled bang of the headboard hitting the wall punctuated by his young master’s grunts and your breathy moans. 

When Barbatos slips back inside the bedroom, the cloyingly thick scent of your sweat and cum starts to cloud his mind and his heat starts to build again. He grows hard in his pants when your cries to be filled and bred become more desperate. Barbatos watches his young master fuck you senseless, and he licks his lips as he eagerly awaits his turn.

[todoriin]

now he's in your bed, laying on my chest. | reo mikage, 18+

no explicit nsfw but still mdni, aged up characters, reo down bad, not very realistic s3x but alas, reader's feelings are ambiguous but they eventually get their hesitation fked out, no pronouns or specific body parts mentioned, not beta read sorry.

It's 10pm and there's a purple-haired, billionaire athlete on your doorstep, knocking a little too eagerly on the door.

"There's no one in there." You interrupt, spinning your keys on your finger and Reo turns around, shocked to see you in front of him. "So banging on my door like a madman won't be productive, I'm afraid."

To your dismay, all he says is an apology when you wanted him to explain why on earth he was here.

"Are you looking for Nagi? Try somewhere else, don't think he'll ever come around again," you murmur before pushing in front of him to unlock the door. The key enters, as it always does, your door hinges creak when you open it, as it always does, and you turn around to face Reo, who has never looked as frazzled as he does now.

"I'm not looking for Nagi," the athlete mutters, running a hand through his hair. "I'm looking for you."

"Well, here I am. Aren't you supposed to be on a flight across the world right now?"

"I'm flying tomorrow morning."

Such dry and icy responses, what's up with him this evening? Reo's always so talkative but you wonder where his words and usual mannerisms have wandered off to tonight. Perhaps he's holding a grudge against you on behalf of Nagi after your breakup.

"Have a safe flight. I'm gonna go now, see you-"

"-Can I come in?"

You narrow your eyes at him, alarms blaring in your head, flashing vibrant hues of red. Still, you step aside and let him inside your humble abode. He takes off his shoes at the entrance, letting you turn on the heaters and boil some water for tea.

He takes a seat on your couch, watching you in the kitchen that's adjacent. The loud noises from the kettle fill the silence that would otherwise be too awkward, giving you time to think about why Mikage Reo would seek you out at a time like this.

It's not like you were close friends. You were only friendly with him due to his position as Nagi's best friend, and you had barely spent any time together alone before. Even now, it feels like there should be a third presence, spread out and lounging on the exact couch that Reo sits on.

"Green tea," you mutter when you place his mug in front of him. The purple-haired thanks you silently, bringing the cup to his mouth and you two remain sitting in silence.

Are you going to have to carry this conversation when he's the one that intruded?

"Why are you here, Mikage?" You question.

"Why did you really break up with Nagi?"

Count on Reo to always be so brash and straight to the point. Time is money and there is no time like the present.

"I... didn't," you explain. "He's the one that broke up with me. Just... called me one morning and decided it was best for us to go our separate ways and that was it."

"That's all?"

"Yeah. I was surprised too, I thought things were going well between us. Guess not."

"Do you resent him?"

"No."

"Aren't you going to ask me how he is?"

"Life is bigger than being curious against people who come and go. I just hope he is well and happy with where he is."

"But you aren't happy."

You meet Reo's eyes with a bewildered stare, taken aback by his boldness to assume something and speak it outright as a guest in your own home. You fear you don't have anything nice to say, so you don't speak at all, opting to drink your tea instead.

"Did you come all this way just to interrogate me about Nagi and I's breakup?" You ask.

"No, I wanted to come and check on how you were. He didn't tell me much about it, didn't even tell me how you reacted, all he said was that 'you broke up' and that was it..."

Humiliation settles itself deep in your gut. You know of Nagi's infamous nonchalance, but after everything you did and experienced together, you'd like for him to show at least a little bit of sadness. But it seems like that is still too much to ask for.

Rubbing your eyes, you will yourself not to cry. You haven't shed any tears for him yet, not wanting to do so over someone who can't even break up with you in person. In fact, you thought you were beginning to get over it, going out with a few friends tonight for dinner to try and relieve your mind of overthinking too much. Why did Reo have to come by and ruin it?

"I thought he loved you, said he wanted to marry you too," Reo murmured.

That was your breaking point and you clench the pillow in your hands to stop yourself from throwing it at him. "Yeah, well, he didn't love me enough to stay," you spit with venom dripping from your tone, rushing to the kitchen with your now empty mug.

After a moment, you hear Reo's footsteps follow you and he places his empty mug next to the sink. You don't look at him when he leans against the counter with his arms crossed.

"Do you resent me?"

"Why should I?"

"By proxy. Just 'cause ya know, I'm his best friend."

"I don't resent you Mikage, if I did then I would not have let you in my home."

Two beats of silence pass before he speaks again. "I didn't come by just to check up on you."

The sink screeches when you turn it off and the newfound silence envelopes the atmosphere like a blanket of snow. "Go on."

"Don't tell him I said this but you've always been too good for him. You deserve someone better."

You scoff. "Like?"

He steps closer and you have to crane your neck to look at him properly. You don't back down, trying your best to breathe through the heavy air as he scans your expression for any hint of rebellion.

"Me," Reo's voice is unwavering, firm with his declaration. Determination sets his indigo eyes ablaze and his hair falls to frame his face perfectly, the light of your kitchen hitting his skin in all the right places.

Then you realise just how built he is. Broad shoulders, wide chest, and he towers over you so easily, all features that come from years of athleticism. You could fall for his trap, line, hook, and sinker, but whatever little integrity you had remaining keeps you on your feet, reluctant to fall.

His thumb comes to brush your cheek and your knees buckle instantaneously. "Isn't this against 'bro code'?"

"Nagi doesn't have to know."

Oh, but it's been so lonely recently and Reo is so warm, the fabric of his sweater feels so soft, and you just want someone to take care of you, but letting that person be Reo is too risky.

Still, you trail your hands up to rest on his shoulders. "This isn't smart."

"I'm just followin' my heart, pretty."

You're the one who kisses him, pulling him towards you with a tug and his hands slam onto the counter on either side of you. It's sweet, but so short that you don't even give him a moment to close his eyes and savour the feeling. Now you're pulling away and Reo is desperate to keep you close.

With the inch you've given, Reo steals the mile, sealing your lips with his again. It gets heated too fast and now he's everywhere, hands leisurely exploring your sides as his leg settles between yours, effectively trapping you against your kitchen counter.

"Reo," you whisper weakly as he's pressing kisses against your nape, but he stops as soon as his name slips past your lips, head retracting so he can look you in the eye. "Bedroom, please."

After Nagi broke you the way he did, you felt unlovable. As if the reason he left you so suddenly was because there wasn't anything good left about you for him to continue loving. Yet, Reo clings to you like an oath, hurried hands grabbing and squeezing everything and anything he could touch.

Where Nagi was lazy and unrushed, Reo acts like you could slip away from his touch any second, but he doesn't hurt you. He never grips hard enough to leave bruises no matter how much you want him to, and he never strays too far.

Slowly, he strips you of your clothes, taking the time to appreciate you as if he'll never get the chance to see it again. His pupils dilate with every piece he gets to remove and he hovers over you before leaning down to kiss every inch of your bare skin.

Gratitude oozes off him like honey, like he's thankful that you're granting him the luxury of the sight before him, like he's the lucky one out of you two.

Reo presses into you in all the right places and doesn't suffocate you with his weight. It's mind-numbing, he's making you feel so good and you curse yourself for choosing the wrong one and losing the time you could have had with Reo instead.

Every part of you erupts with bliss when he's finally inside. It's warm everywhere, he fits so perfectly that you wonder if you were meant to find heartbreak first so you can appreciate this blissfulness even more. When you arch your body moulds perfectly to his chest, and you can't remember what you were even worried about at the beginning of the night.

The more you kiss him, the more of him you feel deep inside is like a chip to your armour.

Pure euphoria flows through your veins, intoxicatingly slow. You never want this to end, even as you gasp for air, even as your throat turns dry and scratchy and your legs lose feeling, every climax causes you to pray that he won't leave. That just because you're spent doesn't mean it is the end of the night.

As if he can hear your wishes, Reo's craving is insatiable and his warmth never strays from you.

The clock strikes 02:30 and on a normal day, perhaps you would have been asleep, preparing for the day ahead. Except tonight there is a purple-haired athlete splayed on your chest, bodies coming down from the multiple highs you've experienced together. Oddly enough, this feels like the most intimate part of the night as his chest moves in unison with yours, idle chatter filling up the space as both of you drift off.

Reo tells you something before you fall asleep but you’re too close to unconsciousness to remember, eyelids heavy and senses dulling. “My flight is early in the morning tomorrow. I’ll be gone before you wake up.” 

True to his word, he isn’t there beside you. There’s a noticeable dent in the sheets that traces his silhouette but excluding that, there’s hardly any evidence of his presence at all and if it weren’t for your sore muscles, the flicker of doubt in your mind wouldn’t have been extinguished so quickly. Then your eye catches sight of the exact sweater he wore last night, the same one that you tugged off him impatiently, it feels like a promise that he will return.

© todoriin 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site

[lucysarah-c]

“Then Lauren said—”

“Stop eating my carrots!” Levi slapped her hand away from the bowl.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, pouting at him as she remained seated on the countertop. She caressed her hand, but the pain wasn't real. “Why?” she complained, playfully pretending to be hurt.

“Because I’m trying to make myself dinner,” he replied, continuing to slice up the vegetables. He momentarily pointed with his knife toward the boiling stew on the stove. “And when I asked if you were hungry, you said no,” Levi added, pushing the chopped vegetables into the bowl.

His stern gaze was quick to return when she grabbed another carrot slice. “I’m not hungry,” she insisted with her mouth full.

Levi maintained his stoic expression, one hand resting on his hip. “Is this going to be one of those times where I ask if you want something to eat, you say you’re not hungry, and then you end up eating half of my meal?”

There was a brief, intense silence until she swallowed her food and replied, “I never do that.”

Levi simply sighed and bent to pick up an extra batch of ingredients.

“Where’s your squad?” Y/N asked as she swung her legs on the countertop. Levi kept cooking, both of them enveloped in the dim light of the almost deserted kitchen.

“No idea,” Levi replied quickly. “Until tomorrow’s morning practice at 6, they’re not my responsibility.”

His girlfriend chuckled. “I bet they’re getting drunk downtown.”

“Good for them. As long as they don’t break anything that belongs to me and they’re on time tomorrow, they can get as shit-faced as they please.”

“What if they break something in the barracks?” she insisted playfully.

“Those budget issues are Erwin’s problems,” Levi said.

She laughed softly, her laughter echoing in the empty, massive room meant to hold many more soldiers than just the two of them. “I went downtown. I met up with friends from other divisions, had lunch, went shopping, had tea, saw a theater presentation, and then had dinner. What did you do all day?”

“I did a deep cleaning of our chambers,” Levi replied, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Something you were obviously not going to do. I did laundry, cleaned everything—even the clothes I was wearing. So, I lounged in my boxers in my desk chair, catching up with a book and drinking tea. When it got dark, I turned on a light, swapped the tea for whiskey, and kept reading. I spent my free day reading, having zero human interactions, and not dealing with anyone’s shitty problems. Best free day I’ve had in months.”

“Does that mean you’re done with your tasks for the day?” she asked playfully, giving him a sly look despite him being engrossed in his cooking.

Levi quickly replied, “Don’t worry, I still have plenty of time to do you, girly.” The words didn’t match his uninterested tone and expression.

But it made her chuckle anyway, mostly out of embarrassment. She softly hit his arm and complained, “Levi! A cadet might hear you.”

A subtle smirk appeared on his face, but not much more. There was a brief, comfortable silence as he put the ingredients into the boiling water and stirred them around.

“You know, I want your opinion about something Juliet told me. So I want you to be honest, be yourself,” Y/N commented. Levi simply hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on his upcoming dinner. “But be nice,” she warned him.

Levi stopped stirring his meal, looked up at her, and said, “I can’t be both.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. She’s dating a new guy… and I don’t think he’s good for her.”

“Like the last ten guys,” he interrupted her, “in the last eight months?”

Levi wasn’t a social person, but he was certainly up to date with his girlfriend’s gossip.

“Hey! Are you slut-shaming my friend?”

“No, your friend can sleep with the entire male population of the walls if she pleases,” Levi said casually as he moved around the kitchen. “But she has this tendency to think each one is the love of her life, and they last two weeks.”

Y/N couldn’t deny it. She sighed loudly. “She’s… a hopeless romantic.”

“Daddy issues.”

She snorted and then chuckled. “Hey! She’s my friend!” Y/N tried to defend her, but there was no conviction in her words. “…She used to have a crush on Erwin, remember?”

“Exactly. Having a crush on Erwin is the definition of daddy issues,” Levi said with a playful smile as his girlfriend burst into laughter. “Am I wrong?”

“No, no.”

Returning to stirring before heading back to the kitchen board to cut the potatoes, Levi asked, “So?”

“Oh yes,” Y/N caught herself and continued, “Well… she’s seeing this new guy. He’s in his mid-thirties, and the way she described him made me realize he’s a fuckboy and—”

“A fuckboy?” Levi quickly snapped, looking at his girlfriend, who simply hummed back, not understanding his reaction. “God,” Levi raised his hand to press on the bridge of his nose and slightly shook his head. “Your friend really has a radar for choosing the worst dudes out there.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” she complained. “Let me finish!”

“There’s nothing to finish,” he said. “A fuckboy, for fuck’s sake,” Levi repeated under his breath, almost cursing at the idea.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“A fuckboy, Y/N, really?” He repeated, louder this time, as if trying to make her see reason. Not sensing her understanding, he sighed loudly. “I was a fuckboy when I was 18, maybe even into my mid 20s. Yeah, maybe I fought the MPs in the underground, smoked around, got drunk, had a bunch of casual sex, and got high with Farlan. But I was 18!”

“What does that have to do with any of this—”

Levi quickly interrupted, “18! You can be a fuckboy at 18, maybe until your mid-20s,” he said. “You can’t be a shitty fuckboy in your mid-thirties! That’s not a fuckboy, that’s an unstable, immature, stupid dude,” Levi explained as his girlfriend burst into laughter, with him continuing to curse under his breath. “At this rate, he’s having a fucking midlife crisis, not being a fuckboy.”

Her girlfriend kept laughing, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "So. What is the fucking issue? Don't tell me your shitty friend got knocked up by that idiot."

Y/N kept laughing, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to calm down. “No,” she whispered out of breath between laughs, “it’s the opposite.”

Levi raised an eyebrow silently, questioning what she meant.

“He couldn’t get it up.”

It was Levi’s turn to chuckle. “Well… you definitely can’t be a fuckboy if you can’t get it hard… that’s for sure.”

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[hello-xiao]

cold mornings ᯓ 🌫️

featuring.. aventurine. veritas ratio. caelus. dan heng (il).

cold mornings with your favorite characters.

part one.

tags/warnings!! not proof read! pure fluff. established relationship (aventurine, dr. ratio, dan heng (il)). post-penacony (aventurine). you can imagine whether dr. ratio leans up or down on his part. spoilers for character story (dr.ratio). dr. ratio and reader lives in a house together. fwb (not.. those types of benefits) (caelus). post-xianzhou luofu (dan heng il). dan heng hates hates the thought of being "one" with dan feng. gender neutral reader.

authors note!! hiiiii, this was a work in early may which i never actually did hehe.. if you couldn't already tell, english is not my first language so forgive me if it looks messy/unintelligible because most definitely i forgot words and i couldn't even search them up because i didn't know how to explain them..

rating: thirteen ++

Aventurine ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Aventurine laid on the bed, his arm slung around your waist as he breathed in your scent. It was a quiet, cold morning, the shuffling of the bed sheets, the soft sound emitting from the humidifier and soft breathing being the only noises heard throughout the room.

The soft smell of hydrangea and citrus filled the room as Aventurine let out a small groan, he blinked open his eyes, letting out a yawn as he looked down at you, your head resting on his chest, he couldn't help but smile and mess with your hair.

He couldn't help but notice the room was a tad bit chilly, "Oh? Are you cold, Pilea?" "Oh, pray tell, how could you tell?"

He chuckled as he cuddled into you. "Now now, come, I'll warm you up." You couldn't help but smile as you held him close to you, letting a soft sigh leave your lips. You ran a hand through his hair. "Aven.." You could tell he was close to falling asleep. It had been a long month for him, he had just returned from Penacony. He didn't seem to want to talk about anything that happened, and you were just glad he was back in your arms.

Your hand rested on his head, gently running your hand through his hair as you rested your cheek atop his head, his head resting on your chest. "Sleep well, Aven.."

Veritas Ratio ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

You awoke in bed, all alone. Which was the usual in your shared home. After all, Veritas often awoke early, often leaving you alone in bed whilst he was in another room, either reading or researching.

You got out of the bed, grabbing the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around you as your feet met with the cold ground. You moved around before opening the door to his studies and taking a peek inside.

"Veri?" You smiled as you walked inside, finding him buried in his work. Papers worth of years of research surrounding him as his gaze moved to look at you. "Morning, dearest." He greeted you, before his attention moved back to his papers.

He pushed the chair back a little, giving you access to sit on his lap and rest your head on his chest. You noticed his glum expression, you were unsure if he wanted to talk about it. "Veri? Is something.. Wrong?" A silence filled the gap, he let out a grim sigh before a small self-depricating laugh followed.

He simply smiled at you - something rarely seen on the man's expression, yet here it was. He leaned to bury his face into the crook of your neck. "Everything.. Is fine." With pursed lips, you bregudingly accepted that answer, knowing full well he wouldn't say any more than that. But as your eyes made way to his research, you saw it. "--test-firing of the anti-planetary weapon was a success."

Yes.. Perhaps it was better not to push him to answer.

Caelus ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

It was an early morning on the express. You sat on the lush red couch as you watched the conductor sweep the floors. It wasn't shocking that it was practically freezing on the express. Your hands were wrapped around a mug filled with hot tea, blowing on your drink just lightly as you took small sips, careful not to burn your tongue.

You looked over at the door as Caelus comes out, he stretched his arms, you could only chuckle, feeling a bit bad for him as he had just returned from his adventure in the Xianzhou. From what you could tell, from the rambling of March 7th.. You were lucky to not have joined them.

You watched as he sat down next to you, sighing as he rested his head on your shoulder. "Tired?" He only nodded, wrapping his arms around you.

"Want a drink?" You wanted to laugh, he truly was no different than a raccoon, not to say it was bad. It was adorable. "No." His answer was short but quick.

You allowed him to rest his head on your shoulder as you placed the cup down onto the table. This was nice. Mornings like these.. Were always ones you look forward to.

Dan Heng (IL) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Dan Heng looked at the data bank, looking at what needed more editing and which didn't. He was lost in thought when he continued working, his eyes flicking back and forth to multiple different datas.

When he suddenly thought back to the events prior of returning to the express after their adventure in the Xianzhou. How much he was reminded of him. Dan Feng might be Dan Heng. But Dan Heng will never be him. But, in the same time.. Nothing could ever be his, could it? For Dan Feng haunted him, and probably, always will.

He wasn't fully paying attention to his surroundings when he let out a surprised noise at the sudden tug on his tail.

He turned around, only to find you, your arms wrapped around his tail. "Did I scare you?" You chuckled as he let out a sigh of relief. "[Name].. No. Just surprised." He smiled a bit.

"It's quite cold.. Aren't you usually in bed at this hour?" It was true, whether you choose to sleep-in or too cold to leave the comforts of your bed.

"Yeahhhhhh, but.." You rested your cheek on his tail, your fingers gliding across his scales as red hued his cheeks, a chill running up his spine at the sensation. "I decided to get up a bit earlier.." You smiled. "To see.. You."

Dan Heng looked away, his cheeks hueing red as he covered his face, clearing his throat as he glanced back at you. "I.. See."

You got up and stretched your arms. "It's so cold.." Dan Heng nodded his head, agreeing with you as he paid attention towards the data bank. "You don't mind me using your tail to help heat me up, right?" You grinned, hugging his tail, it was a comfortable pillow.

"No.. Feel free to use my tail as you please.."

And.. Just in this moment, Dan Heng couldn't help but smile. Nothing in the world belongs to him, for it belonged to Dan Feng. But you? In this moment.. Your love was his. Not Dan Feng's. But Dan Heng's.